Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,30
mouth to dismiss his feelings, as he always did. He was mildly surprised she’d noticed the strain. But he shouldn’t have been. April was more sensitive than many other people and he knew he had to respect that by being honest with her, even when it was painful.
“We’ve had some trouble connecting,” he admitted. “Especially since my mother died.”
“She passed away just before you retired from racing, didn’t she?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Is that the reason?”
His throat began to burn, but for the second time he fought the impulse to dodge her. “Yes. At that point, racing didn’t hold the same appeal for me.” But he hadn’t known where to focus his attention after that and it felt like he’d been wandering around lost ever since.
“I’m sorry, Gunner.” April’s voice was soft and warm, completely sincere. “I can tell you were very close to her.”
“She was—” Suddenly he wanted to talk but found it difficult to get the words out. He rarely spoke of his mother, hadn’t allowed himself to cry over her death. He didn’t feel he had any right to self-pity when his life had been so good. But now the loss felt new and raw, like a giant hole blown through his chest, and he couldn’t fight the tears that blurred his vision. “She was a good woman.”
“She’ll never really be gone, Gunner, you know that, don’t you? Not as long as you carry her in your heart.”
He closed his eyes, almost certain April had found her way into his heart, too. “I know.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t go fishing today,” she said. “I’ll say I’m not feeling well, and we can lie around the beach for hours and make out. I’m pretty sure I need a refresher course.”
He chuckled, feeling strange, different…more at peace somehow. “Don’t cancel the fishing. I’m fine.”
“Want me to come to your room so we can talk? I can swing by the vending machine first.”
“No. I need to call my father back. I’ll see you in the lobby in a little while.”
WALT GLANCED LONGINGLY at the array of foods at the breakfast buffet. Omelettes, Mexican entrées, waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, sausages, bacon, biscuits and gravy, cheese blintzes and more. It smelled like heaven. But he passed up all those fat- and cholesterol-laden foods and followed Claire to the fruit island, where he loaded up on watermelon, cantaloupe and grapes, adding only a poached egg to the fruit.
She found them a small table in the corner, and he joined her a moment later.
“You’re not having any of the Mexican food? Or an omelette?” she said, eyeing his plate as he sat down.
He glanced at the short line in front of the omelette station but refused to weaken. “No.”
“Why not? You love omelettes.”
He loved sausage, too. But knowing he had open-heart surgery in a couple of weeks had a way of taking the fun out of a poor diet. “I’m trying to lose a few pounds,” he said, because he didn’t want to broach the subject of the triple bypass just yet. They had several more days in Cabo and plenty of other things to work through first.
“You look good to me.” She smiled meaningfully, and he couldn’t help grinning in return because he knew she was referring to last night. He hadn’t been that excited in a long time. But it was more than the sexual high that had made the night unique. Being with Claire was somehow richer and more meaningful for the familiarity, trust and trials of the past thirty-three years.
“I’m glad you came to Cabo,” he said, knowing he might never have realized the truth if she hadn’t.
She accepted some freshly squeezed orange juice from the waitress, but her smile disappeared as she set her glass on the table. “I’m glad, too, Walt,” she said. “Last night was…extraordinary. Something I really wanted. But we should probably talk now, instead of pretending we can simply step back into our old lives. A lot has changed.”
Did they have to talk? Walt didn’t want to face what might have changed a lot any more than he wanted to face that he could no longer risk clogging up his arteries.
“I owe you an apology, Claire,” he said. “I know that.”
“We’ve both been acting like fools.”
“But it’s mostly my fault. I took you for granted over the years, got too caught up in the business.”
“I’ve always been patient about the business.” She took a sip of her orange juice. “I want to hear what you have