It was Declan. It would always be him.
Chapter Eight
Charlotte rubbed tanning oil on her arms and legs. She knew it was an absolutely terrible idea to do it, especially since she was a doctor and knew the possible repercussions, but she longed for sun-kissed skin. She’d tanned so easily when she was younger, but being inside a hospital all the time had left her colorless and drab. If she was going to live by the beach, she was going to look like she belonged there.
In the distance a man had sauntered out to the beach from the house next door.
I guess that’s the blonde’s husband, she thought. He looks a little young for her, but to each his own.
Charlotte closed her eyes and basked in the breeze and heat of the perfect southern day. She already felt calmer, being here. But she missed Vanessa. Maybe she could fly her down here in the next couple of weeks; explain what had happened in Nashville and why she’d had to leave it behind.
********
Declan swam a few short laps in his pool and then sauntered down to the water, leaving his towel, phone, and flip flops behind in his gated backyard. He liked having a stretch of beach more or less to himself, and he walked a bit, picking up a few shells to see if the tide had dropped anything interesting at his backdoor overnight. He’d stolen a glance at the girl in the black bikini as he strolled past, and thought she had a killer body, if a little pale for a day at the beach. Her face was obscured by a Kardashian on the cover of People, but he’d be surprised if she was anything short of a knockout with a body like that.
A few gulls shadowed Declan as he walked, hoping he was one of those beachgoers who threw bread into the air, but after circling for a few minutes, they gave up and left him alone with his thoughts.
Wandering down into the surf, Declan let his feet sink in the sand, deeper with each wave that crashed at his ankles. He watched a crab skitter over to him and snap curiously at the exposed part of his right foot and he was suddenly lost in melancholy. I bet that crab would have no idea if his dad was dying of pancreatic fucking cancer. He’s probably never known what it’s like to lose your father and still not be over losing the one person he ever loved. Ironic. A world filled with people envious of me and my money and here I am, jealous of a crab, Declan thought to himself.
He walked a while longer until he realized he was nearing the end of the island and then it occurred to him that he didn’t exactly know what his new digs looked like from the beach. He knew his gate code, so getting back inside the house wouldn’t be a problem, but many of the oceanfront mansions looked alike and it would be embarrassing to try to go inside the wrong house or to have to go back up to the street to find it that way.
In the distance he could see people starting to setup canopies and chairs, preparing for a day of fun in the sun. He thought back to the girl in the bikini who he’d been watching from his back porch – if she was still there, he’d know he had the right place. And he might get to introduce himself and see what she looked like beneath a glossy picture of a reality TV star.
********
Charlotte hid behind her magazine as her neighbor’s husband walked past, but she snuck a peek once he was a safe distance away. Trophy husband was the first thing that came to mind. She concocted an entire life for the people who lived next door; she was a wealthy widow who’d snatched up a young stud who married her for her money, but who also kept a young girlfriend out in Summerville somewhere. He spent days at the gym and the beach, staying fit and tan to impress all her friends at the country club. She didn’t have to work, but she served on the boards of several charities or maybe the hospital to stay busy between lunch at the yacht club or the occasional round of golf.
Charlotte admired the man’s silhouette framed against the sun hovering over the horizon. He was tall and in good shape, broad-shouldered with an easy, confident gait. She watched him walk, noisy seagulls squawking in his wake.
Before long, he was too far down the beach to ogle and she’d run out of her ideas for the Lifetime movie starring her new neighbors, so she propped herself up on her elbows to watch the waves. The sounds of families unpacking wagons, college guys popping the tops of their cans, and children arguing over beach toys began to fill the air around her, drowning out the ocean for the moment. She finished an article about a woman who ran a rescue for circus animals in Oklahoma and set her magazine down, standing up, stretching, and walking quickly across the hot sand to get down to the water.