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“Do you bring them out here?”
It was a simple question, but sweat broke out on my forehead. “Sometimes.”
She stared out the window. “Do they surf?”
"They try, but they prefer building sandcastles."
She chuckled. “Do you prefer playing in the sand or surfing?”
I swallowed. “I surf. It's hard not to when you grow up in a beach town.”
She stared at me intently, then a pretty blush covered her cheeks. Was she picturing me shirtless, riding the waves? Well, now she understood my agony when she mentioned running along the beach with friends. Bile rose in my throat at the thought of Eric, the stalker, being one of those friends. Well, that was the last thing the bastard would ever do with her. Once we got home, I'd call my lawyer and find out what could be done about him. Violet would be finally be free.
She went on to ask more questions about what the boys liked to do, but somehow, it always came back to me. Like she was trying to pick my brain but not to be obvious about it at the same time. I settled into the conversation. The more we spoke, the more I was sure. I would keep her safe at any cost.
Chapter7
Violet
The next week proved I could never quite figure Shawn out. After the afternoon I poured out my heart to him, and compassion shone in his blue eyes, I thought we could be a bit more friendly with one another. Once that day passed, however, we were back to square one. Shawn went back to keeping a stern face and only asking me kids-related questions. In the morning, he'd give a curt nod to my cheerful ‘good morning’ and for the rest of the day, he’d ignore me. Despite not paying me any attention, he wasn't sending me packing. That must count for something. After my attempts to strike up a conversation and the embarrassing failures I suffered, I kept my head down and minded my business.
Still, when I went to bed at night, the person I pictured while I snuggled into my blanket was Shawn, the man who wouldn't let a random dude in the restaurant hit on me. Almost like I waswithhim, on a date. The man whose eyes narrowed when I explained what boundaries my ex crossed and vowed to protect and keep me safe. That was the Shawn I kept with me.
And I wasn't moping around all day pining over my boss. The boys and I doubled down on our fun times. We found activities to keep us busy outside of their school work. And I always blushed with pride when I caught Shawn looking at us with a slight smile on his face. When he'd catch me looking, he'd straighten up and walk away, but I kept those moments tucked away in my heart. I had no idea why he was so closed off, but the moments he let go cemented my opinion of him. He was a good man underneath his tough exterior.
Today, though, I didn't have the kids to distract me from thoughts about their dad. It was the weekend, and they'd gone to their grandparents' home an hour outside the city. I was left alone in the house. No, not alone. Shawn was here somewhere. But considering I hardly saw him, and when I did, he disappeared almost immediately, I was essentially alone.
Tired of lounging around in my bed binging reality TV, I picked up a weathered paperback I had on my nightstand. It was one of the things I brought with me when moving to Cape Worth. It was like comfort food. I'd read it so many times that the pages and words now felt like a familiar friend.
I slipped on a casual sundress and hopped down the stairs. Not surprisingly, Shawn wasn't in the living room. The knot in my tummy felt a lot like disappointment, but I wasn't about to address that. I sat by the window, folded my legs beneath me, and threw a blanket over my body. With my head on the window, I cracked open the book and read.
I'd been reading for a while when the steady drumming of rain against the window drew my eyes up. I gazed out, watching the droplets wiggle down the glass. A smile curved my lips. Lovely.
A door shut somewhere inside the apartment, and I turned just in time to see Shawn emerge from the hallway that lead to his office. A grey T-shirt stretched across his broad chest, and black sweatpants hung low on his waist. I allowed myself to stare at him for a few seconds before bringing my eyes down to my book, seeing the words but not comprehending them. I was too aware of Shawn moving around.
I heard him uncork a bottle of wine and the sound of it flowing into a glass. Then the same sound again, into a second glass. I tucked my hair behind my ear and tried to read. After going over one sentence five times, I gave up and looked to find Shawn walking toward me, both wine glasses in hand.
“May I sit?” He gestured to the empty couch close to me.
I took him in, dark hair slightly mussed, blue eyes a little dark. Something was on his mind. “Sure.”
He extended the glass in his left hand to me. An open invite to join him.
I started to shake my head before the words left my lips. “I don't think I should.”
“The kids are away. It's the weekend.” He shrugged like sharing a drink with him was the most natural thing to do.
Since he didn't mind, I collected the glass, biting my inner cheek as our fingers brushed. I quickly took a mouthful to calm my nerves. The sweet liquid immediately put me at ease, and I turned to my boss.
Shawn plopped onto the couch adjacent to me and drained half his glass, but I doubted nervousness was the reason he indulged.
“What's wrong?” I heard myself ask.
Over the past week, I learned not to talk to Shawn until he spoke to me if I wanted to get a response from the tight-lipped man. I almost knocked myself upside the head for forgetting that, but then he spoke quietly.
“Just a small hitch with my colleague, Phillip.” He shrugged.
He said nothing for a long time, so I charged ahead. "What about him?"
