“Oh my god yes. I just wish I’d woken up and left sooner.”
“I’m sorry. It’s hard to see through the fog when you don’t realize that’s not all there is.”
The ache that had brought her here returned, turning her legs to thick mush. “Especially when it seems mild at first, and before you know it, you’re suffocating in it.”
He scowled and shoved his hands on his hips, walking halfway up the beach and stopping again. “Or everyone seems to think you’re lost in it, but you find it a refreshing mist.”
Moving up the beach, Haley grabbed her jacket and stopped in front of Finn. “I like your metaphors,” she said with a grin, beyond tempted to wrap her arms around his waist and bury herself against him, knowing the connection might settle them both.
He rubbed his hand over his hair, flashing her that easy smile again. “Same. Are the rocks more to your liking now?”
She nodded, unable to look away. “Much more even. I think I’ll head home and see if my head’s clear enough to finish my latest post. What about you? Better?”
His hands rested on his hips again, his gaze searching the other side of the river. “I will be.” As she strolled away, he added, “Haley?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ve got a new IPA you should try. Good one that bites you back.”
Grinning, she said, “Can’t wait to try it. You work tonight?”
“Tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
6
Offside
Beamingathersuccess,Haley closed the file and snapped shut her computer. Vlogger extraordinaire. Look out Chip and Joanna… without Chip. Now she had to work up the courage to post it.
Changing into fresh jeans and a breezy blouse, she found her favorite heeled boots and even touched up her eyeliner, reapplying her strawberry guava lip gloss. Not that she was dressing up to have dinner alone, sort of. Again. She wasn’t sure if flirting with the bartender counted as a dinner date.
Divorce was a lonely business. She’d already roped Grady and Claire into inviting her for dinner several times since returning. Patricia was busy six nights of the week, of course, as her neurosurgical practice and philanthropic efforts came first.
Not to mention, Haley was still recovering from their girls’ trip. There had been several attempts at praise, which were awkwardly delivered but well meant. Whatever weirdness she’d had with her mother over the years, she could tell the uptight woman was trying, and almost felt sorry for her. Patricia continually seemed to trip over herself, reeling as she recalled how to dethrone herself.
She dropped her keys in her purse and swung open the door to the garage. It was oddly relieving to come and go as she pleased. No husband to question her, as he couldn’t possibly fathom why she would want to take a walk in the park on a drizzly day. No staff to inquire after the menu for the week or if Mr. Salsborough’s suit was pressed to her liking.
And no one to ask how Haley Salsborough had become a regular at the pub and why she grinned the whole way out the door.
Her phone buzzed with a call from a number she didn’t recognize. San Francisco number. Could be her lawyer. Or the bank. Or… well, not a friend, as those had all slept with Nate and should know they’d better piss off or she’d bite their heads off.
Fine. Picking up the phone, she answered, “Hello?”
“Please don’t hang up.” His grating tone set her teeth on edge.
“Nate. You can’t call me. Don’t make me put something in writing.”
“Hear me out. I miss you. This new house is bleak without your creative touch.”
“Fuck off.” She pulled the phone from her ear to end it.
“Wait. There’s an offer on our house.”
Dammit, she’d been waiting on that. “That’s great.” She wanted every last tie to that despicable man severed.
“Actually, we have a bidding war. The realtors included samples of your blog in the pamphlet.”
