“I don’t know. Watch YouTube? Not start up a correspondence with the girl who broke my heart!”
She tosses her head. “Oh, go on, it was high school. And just remember, you were the one who left for the soldier’s life. You could not and should not have expected a smart lass like that to remain waiting for you, especially without a ring. What is she, then? Odysseus’s dog? You reckon she should have stayed pining for you by the sea while you traipsed all over.”
“If by traipsed all over, you mean defended my country as a Marine—”
“I mean going off to Jim knows where without any calls. Leaving her to wonder if she’d ever be hearing from you again.”
Declan jerks, like his tiny mother punched him. “She said that?” he asks.
But before she can answer, he shakes his head and says, “She shouldn’t be talking to you about me. About us.”
“But who else would she talk to about it?” Declan’s mother asks. “Those parents of hers still aren’t talking to her since her divorce from that insurance broker she never should’ve married in the first place. They’re still strict Catholics, you know, even after all the boy touching. And her other same-age friends have children and lives of their own—”
“What the hell, Ma. How long have you been talking to her behind my back?” Declan demands.
Maeve folds her arms over her ample bosom. “If me talking to her bothers you so much, you should ring her yourself as I told her you would.”
“I’m not calling her! You should have never said I would because that’s not happening in a thousand years.”
“Fine!” Maeve answers, dropping the tray onto the buffet with a clattering bang. “If you are unwilling to call Siobhan, a lass you never had any business letting go in the first place, then I’m not going to the doctor with you tomorrow.”
“You’re blackmailing me now?” Declan explodes. “I got Rodge to agree to clear the old access road just so we could make it to the clinic to get the referral.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have bothered. Do you think I have anything to live for if my only son refuses to give me grandchildren?”
“Ma, stop talking crazy!” Declan shouts. I notice several veins on his neck straining as he points out, “I came all the way out here on my boss’s jet. With a friggin’ elf!”
Maeve sniffs and turns to Hayato and me. “I am very sorry for wasting your time, dearies,” she says. “Perhaps if my son weren’t so stubborn—”
“If I wasn’t so stubborn!” Declan yells, his face redder than Santa’s leather jacket.
“Guys, guys, please stop yelling,” I say, holding up both of my hands. “It’s okay. You didn’t waste our time. In fact, if Santa were here, he’d say we only have to put our heads together to come up with a good solution. Right, Hayato?”
I look to Hayato for a little backup. But instead of answering. He walks away. Just walks away.
Leaving me there to deal with Declan and his mom alone.
20
Let’s Go Away For Awhile
I find Hayato out on the snow-covered beach an hour later, his black hair whipping in the opposite direction of the crashing winter waves.
I stop beside him and stare at the sea. So different from the beach in San Francisco. There, people gather to play and surf any day it’s not raining. But it’s desolate out here. A blanket of white being rebuffed by an angry sea.
I glance sideways at Hayato. The worst of the Nor’easter has passed after howling angrily through the night. But his face is still a cold storm, shadowed and angry.
“Are you all right?” I ask the simple question first. Holding back on all the more complicated ones. Like, what the heck was that? Why did you just up and leave without any explanation? Were you triggered or something? If so, by what?
“I am sorry I left without an explanation.” His voice is polite but as cold as the snow underneath my moon boots. “It was…too noisy in there.”
Hmm, too noisy. Again this explanation doesn’t quite sit right. The waves out here are even noisier than Declan’s and Maeve’s argument inside, I think, as the icy wind cuts through the warmth of my coat. Like it’s made out of knives.
Nonetheless, I have to confess, “I tried to get them to stop, but they’re still arguing. I’m not sure how Declan’s going to get her to the doctor without giving in to her demand.”
I trail off when he looks at me sharply. My heart somersaults alarmingly. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You are worried about Declan and his mother, yet you have come to stand with me out here. I am trying to sort out why,” he answers.
I tilt my head. “Because you left, and you were obviously upset.”
“Yes, but…”
He trails off, and I know I’m only an escort, but I can’t let him.
“But what?” I ask, my tone just shy of demanding.
He hesitates, then pushes a hand through his hair even though it’s already blown back in the wind. “I was taught to leave a room when I was upset and not come back until I had calmed down.”
“Oh…”
“I am guessing your parents were much more nurturing,” he says, with a rueful half-smile.
“My mom was,” I answer. Then I shiver. “It’s freezing out here. Don’t you want to go back inside?”
He glances over at me. Then he turns to face me fully.
I turn to face him, too. And for a moment, our hair whips in the same direction.
“You’re the first,” he tells me, his eyes hollow, his expression annoyed.
“The first,” I repeat. Not understanding.
Again his tone is harsh. “The first to care when I’m upset. The first and only to come find me while I make myself return to reason. That’s not what I pay women for.”
Oh. My heart sinks as I figure out, “You don’t want me to care. You’re upset that I came to find you. That’s not how an escort is supposed to act.”
He nods. “That is not how an escort is supposed to act.”
I look away, feeling stupid. Not to mention clingy.
But then he curls a hand around my neck and pulls me forward. And just as I’m thinking that I shouldn’t assume he’s going in for a kiss again, his lips find mine. His mouth grazing, then tasting, then consuming.
The needle drops down, and “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” comes blaring back into my head. In stereo, not mono.
I forget the cold. Forget the wind. Forget the arguments raging inside the inn and my heart. In these moments, there are only Hayato’s lips on mine and the sensation of letting go of the ledge I was holding onto to prevent my fall.
Eventually, the kiss comes to an end. “Thank you,” he says, pressing his forehead into mine.
He releases a shaky breath against my lips, swirling and warm. And even though our mouths are no longer touching, it feels more intimate than a kiss. “Thank you for coming to find me.”
“No worries,” I answer, my voice little more than a whisper.
He lets out a small chuff. “You make me laugh, Kristal. You really do.”