“Why is it rude? I’m just asking her age. I’m almost six,” she says, raising five fingers up. I lean back to extend an extra one off the other hand.
“You’re right, it’s fine. I’m twenty-eight.”
Xavier looks at me with wary eyes while Zoe’s brows bunch. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re almost Daddy’s age, but you’re young and Daddy’s old.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eli mutters under his breath while flashing for his next turn. Louder, he says, “Nowthat’s rude.”
I can’t hold my laughter in. Even Xavier joins in. “Careful. You’re practically geriatric,” I say.
“You know what, kids? Cassie’s too busy for a beach day.”
I bump his shoulder, and he laughs.
Zoe whines, not understanding the sarcasm, so I turn and say, “Don’t worry.” Then, to Eli, I add, “I’mdefinitelystaying.”
Moody Beach actuallyisthe best beach around. It’s wide and usually less crowded, and it’s a great spot for surfing. I don’t do it myself—never saw the appeal, and I have terrible balance—but I love watching people floating on their boards, waiting for the perfect wave. I find it soothing.
After arriving at the beach, Zoe immediately bolts toward the water, and Eli follows, leaving Xavier with me. He stands next to the cooler and bodyboards, a foot tracing lines in the sand.
“Do you want to get the shovels out?” I ask. I don’t need to look to know Eli brought some—along with a million other things—in his giant beach bags. He looks nothing but prepared.
Xavier doesn’t answer for such a long time, I think maybe he’s decided to ignore me. Then, in a low voice, he asks, “If you’re mommy’s sister, why haven’t I seen you before?” He doesn’t quite meet my eyes, which only heightens the blow. Like I’m a person his mother taught him not to trust. Has that question been sitting on his mind since Friday? Or has Keira talked to him about me since?
I crouch so we’re at eye level. “Because I was away for a long time.”
I don’t know when this guilt will ever stop gnawing at my insides.
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t ask more questions either, instead settling a little farther away. I get the shovels and buckets out and hand them to him, then return to my chair to watch him play. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.
When Eli and Zoe get out of the water, they join him and add more towers to the sandcastle he started building. I take the opportunity to slip away and dip my feet in the water. When I can’t feel my toes anymore, I go back to my chair, and this time, it’s not Xavier that I have to stop myself from staring at.
He’s not yours to study anymore.
But that’s easier said than done. The chest that used to be lean and tall is now bulky, muscled without being chiseled, like he doesn’t waste time lifting weights but his life working in kitchens and taking care of his daughter has made him strong. Seeing Eli like this during the summer used to be my catnip, and I fear I may not have spent long enough away to get rid of that vice.
When he gets up and leaves the kids alone with their massive sandcastle, I force my gaze to remain on his face.
He unfolds a chair next to mine, then drops into it like his body is too heavy for him to carry.
“Drink?” I ask, holding out a juice pouch I grabbed from his cooler. He lifts a brow, to which I say, “Made myself at home.”
“I put adult drinks in there, too,” he says.
“Is there an age-limit on Caprisuns?” I take another sip that tastes like all of my best summer days.
“Guess not,” he says with a chuckle, then sits and drains half of it. He makes a face, then shivers. “God, I’d forgotten how sweet that was.”
“Nothing like a drink that’s so sweet, it makes you more dehydrated than before.”
His chair is close enough to mine that I can smell him, his usual sweet scent mixed with that of salt water and clean sweat. His skin is a gorgeous golden, the shade it always turned to during summer.
He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, then releases the deepest, longest sigh I’ve ever heard.
“I feel like today’s the only time I’ve seen you having a day off,” I say. I’ve barely seen his car in the driveway over the week. Not that I looked or anything. One time, though, I saw a white truck withGRANT CATERINGwritten across it, which answered my question about what he does for work.
