She glanced away. “What do you want?”
He dropped his hand to his side. “I want a do-over. I want to be there when Tyler’s born and watch him grow up.”
There was raw honesty in his expression and anguish in his tone. Her chest tightened.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said softly. “More sorry than I can tell you.”
“I know.”
Two little words that usually didn’t mean much. But this time, spoken by him, they were the world.
“We can make this work,” she reiterated. “I want you and Tyler to spend as much time together as possible.”
“Hard to do when you live in San Francisco.”
She wanted to say that if this was so damned important, he could be the one to move. He could run his businesses from there. Only she knew that wasn’t possible or practical. That most people would say she should be the one to compromise. To turn her life upside down and move back to Fool’s Gold. Because it would be better for everyone.
Everyone but her.
“I need to get back,” she concluded. “I have to work before the kids get home from camp.”
They walked to the parking lot together. Liz tried to think of something to say—another compromise that they could both live with. But it didn’t exist.
When she pulled out the keys to her small SUV, Ethan grabbed her arm. He pulled her around and there, in the middle of the afternoon, in an open parking lot, on a Thursday, he kissed her.
His mouth claimed hers with a combination of need, anger and determination she could relate to. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into him, kissing him back just as passionately, letting her emotions flow through her. Their lips clung, their bodies strained. He wrapped one arm around her waist, she put her free hand on his shoulder.
For a single moment, there was nothing but the heat of the sun and the man who held her. There was wanting and promise and in that space of time, anything was possible. Then sanity returned in the sharp honk of a horn, the sounds of traffic and the realization that this problem was bigger than a kiss.
Ethan released her. She stepped back. Without saying a word, they each got in their own car and drove away.
LIZ ARRIVED HOME KNOWING THAT if she wasn’t expecting three children to walk in the front door in the next hour or so, she would give in to the theory that it was five o’clock somewhere and pour a big glass of wine. As it was, she changed into jeans and a T-shirt and medicated herself with Diet Coke and two peanut butter cookies. She’d barely taken her first bite, had yet to feel the sugar coursing through her body, when someone knocked on the front door.
She found herself hesitating before answering. In this town, unexpected company was rarely the good kind. A theory confirmed when she pulled open the door and found Ethan’s mother standing there.
Liz did her best not to flinch. She knew better than to show fear in the face of a predator. Denise Hendrix smiled and held out a covered casserole dish.
“Mac and cheese,” she said. “It was Ethan’s favorite when he was growing up. Actually it was all my kids’ favorite. What is it about children and cheese and pasta?”
Denise looked both friendly and hopeful.
Liz once again wished for wine or a margarita. When neither appeared, she stepped back to let the other woman in.
“You’ll want to put this in the fridge,” Denise continued. “It only needs to be heated. About forty minutes at three-fifty. Oh, and take off the foil.”
“Thanks,” Liz said, taking the dish and walking into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. I’m fine. Were you working? Am I interrupting?”
“I’ve been dealing with other things today,” Liz said, wondering if she should mention the visit with the judge or leave that for Ethan to share. She wasn’t completely sure about Denise’s reason for stopping by. Somehow the food delivery seemed more like an excuse than a plan.
“Do you have deadlines?” Denise asked.
“Yes. I usually stay on top of them. This summer has been a challenge.”
“You’ve been dealing with a lot.”
Sympathy? Was it safe to trust it? “There are unique circumstances.”
Denise leaned against the counter. “I know about the injunction and I’m sorry my son was such an idiot. I hope it went well with the judge.”
So his mother already knew. Is that why she’d stopped by? But why not wait and get the story from her son? “We saw her this afternoon. It was interesting.” Liz explained how she and Ethan had until the end of summer to come up with a plan.
“Do you know what you’re going to agree on?” Denise asked.
“Not yet. I know what Ethan wants.” Liz said the last sentence defiantly. Because it would be what Denise wanted, too.