AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Isobel!" She turned, eyes widening in surprise as I jogged toward her, heart in my throat.
When I stopped in front of her, though, I was suddenly lost. "I, uh-" I'm not sure why it occurred to me then, more than any of the other moments leading up to it, but it hit me that I'm way too old for this woman. I had no business asking for her number. What the hell was I thinking, chasing her down to get her phone number? I'm probably bothering her-
But apparently, I wasn't. Isobel's eyes crinkled, and she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. "Maybe you should give me your number. I'll text you so you have mine. Since we're married and all. I might need to get in touch with you for tax season."
It was just a god-damn joke, but fuck me if I didn't like those words on her lips. Maybe it's yet another sign that I'm getting old, but I don't remember ever feeling this burning, possessive attraction to a woman, never mind one I barely know. All it took was one look at her, and my whole soulwoke up.
Shedidtext me, before I'd even made it ten steps back to the lobby, making my chest swell with smug, male pride when I glanced back and caught her watching me walk away.
"I'll call you," I called, and she turned back toward the bungalows, casting me one last look over her shoulder with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
Our entire time together couldn't have been longer than twenty minutes, and yet I haven't stopped thinking about her in the four hours since I got here, turning over every second of our interaction in my mind. Every time I've halfheartedly managed to rationalize away the whole thing as sexual frustration or a midlife crisis orsomething, catching sight of those fine cracks over my phone screen is all it takes to be back to square one.
She'syoung, almost certainly younger than my own son, and I'm a little appalled athow little I give a damn. I'm not the sort of man who chases pretty young women in a feeble attempt to escape my own mortality. On the rare occasion I break out of my routine enough to go on a few dates, the women I see are self-assured, successful, and age-appropriate. The sex is satisfying but rarely repeated.
They aren't sweet little twenty-somethings with wide eyes and mischievous smiles which make me want to handcuff her to my bed and throw away the key. Isobel is very much the exception, not the rule, but an exception I intend to pursue.
That is, if I can manage to find a few spare hours in the schedule my future daughter-in-law emailed me.
I've only met Reuben's fiancée a handful of times, but I did my obstetrics fellowship at the same hospital where both of her parents work, and while I wouldn't call us friends, we run in the same circles. Evie seems a lot like her mother, intelligent and dignified if a bit tightly wound.
I'm just about to leave for the first event of the week, dinner with the Bradley's, my ex-wife, her husband, and their son when there's a knock on my bungalow's door.
"Hey, old man." Reuben greets me, grinning from behind aviator sunglasses when I open it.
I smile too, hugging him tightly. We've gotten closer the last few years since he graduated from medical school, he understands a little more of my struggle when he was young, and any lingering resentment for missed t-ball games or school plays has long since been put to rest. He was always a good kid, but he's grown into a great man, and I consider myself lucky. Incredibly lucky.
"When did you get in?" I ask, stepping back to allow him into the spacious living room.
"Last night. Evie wanted a chance to scope everything out, she hasn't been here since she was a kid, and it's changed a lot." He leans against the kitchen island, looking around appraisingly. "Quite a place, right?"
It really is. My bungalow includes a great room, spacious bathroom, and bedroom, but the most breathtaking part of the place is the back deck which sprawls out over the crystal clear ocean. When I bought a pair of swim trunks in DC, I wasn't particularly looking forward to using them, but maybe with the right company-
"Dad?" I blink, looking back at Reuben, who stares at me questioningly.
"Sorry." I shake my head, trying to clear away thoughts of what Isobel might look like in a bikini. "Jet lag."
Reuben nods sympathetically. "Me too. Well, on the bright side, I just heard from Mom. She and Tom were delayed and missed their connecting flight, so we won't see them until tomorrow afternoon. It'll just be us and the Bradleys for dinner."
"Sounds good." I grab my phone from the table, running my thumb over the hairline cracks on the screen as I slip it into my pocket. Truthfully, I'm glad of a few hours to spend with Reuben and Evie before my ex-wife claims most of their attention. Kennedy has always been the life of the party, a great partner to a man like her husband, Tom, who owns a luxury real estate brokerage. They're far better suited to each other than Kennedy and I could ever have been, and our marriage was so short-lived it feels like another life now. Her second son, Reuben's half-brother Nolan, is a great kid too.
Reuben and I chat about his residency and the upcoming wedding as we stroll over the boardwalk, which connects the bungalows to the main resort area. I'm determined to be present for this and give my future in-laws my full attention, but I can't help scanning the pool area, tennis courts, and lobby, hoping in vain for a glimpse of Isobel.
We find Evie waiting on the patio of the resort's seafood restaurant, wearing a white silk dress and standing with her parents.
"Judah!" John chuckles as we approach, holding out a hand to shake mine enthusiastically. "Isn't life funny? The last time we saw you was at that conference in Aspen. When was that, Caroline?" He looks to his wife, who smiles as she leans forward to kiss my cheek.
"Four years ago. Well before the kids started dating." She beams, moving over to embrace Reuben. "When is your mother getting in, Reu?"
"Not until late." He tells her obligingly, wrapping an arm around Evie's waist. "They'll join us for sailing tomorrow, though."
"You know how to sail, now?" I chuckle, raising my eyebrows at my son. "When you were eight, you begged me toforgetto sign your permission form for canoeing with your boy scout troop."
Everyone laughs, and Reuben rolls his eyes, huffing. "Save the embarrassing jokes for after the wedding when she's stuck with me."
"Sailing is a Bradley family pastime." John boasts, nodding toward the stunning strip of beach beyond the restaurant patio. "Evie was always a natural."
"Let's sit," I suggest, gesturing to the neatly set table behind our group. "I need a drink after that flight. Dinner is my treat, everyone."
