Risky Christmas: Holiday Secrets / Kidnapped at Christmas. Jill Sorenson
surf, chasing each other along the shore.
Brian smiled at their antics. “Do they ever get tired?”
“Not as often as I’d like,” she admitted.
He wore a mild expression, sympathy mixed with envy.
“Why don’t you have any children of your own?”
His brows rose at the question.
Leah flushed, realizing she was being nosy. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I just don’t know how to answer that without making you uncomfortable.”
“You don’t have to,” she said quickly, trying to squelch her curiosity. “It was rude of me to ask.”
He laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Your girls are lucky.”
She watched her daughters play. They hadn’t looked so carefree in a long time. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you never take your eyes off them.”
“I wish I could,” she murmured. “I fret too much.”
At that exact moment, Alyssa tripped and fell face-first into the water. Leah bolted into motion, running to her daughter and hauling her upright. Alyssa sputtered and coughed, gasping for breath. When her airway cleared, she started bawling.
Leah hugged Alyssa to her chest, cradling her bedraggled head. Her little body was shivering, sobs wrenching from her throat. She carried Alyssa back to the towel and wrapped her up in it, murmuring soft words of comfort. Brian handed another towel to Mandy and they sat together until Alyssa’s tears subsided.
He didn’t seem bothered by the minor incident. John had often accused her of babying the girls, but Leah had never been able to ignore their cries. She took an orange out of her bag, peeling it for Alyssa. “Okay now?”
She nodded, accepting a fruit slice. Mandy also wanted some. They ate the sweet, tart sections while the sun warmed their skin.
Leah offered Brian another orange, which he declined.
“Do you want to walk down the jetty?” he asked.
Leah eyed the man-made rock pathway that jutted out into the ocean. She’d seen fishermen casting poles from its jagged sides, and waves sloshing over the rocks, threatening to drag unsuspecting beachgoers out to sea.
“Mom’s afraid of water,” Mandy announced.
Brian glanced at Leah in surprise.
She peeled the second orange, her cheeks heating. “I don’t like deep water. Or big waves.”
“How big?”
“Over my head.”
“Those are the best kind.”
“For surfing, you mean?”
“Yeah. The bigger the wave, the better the ride. They go fast and break clean. And deep water is much less dangerous to wipe out in.”
She ate another slice of orange. “That makes sense.”
“Can you swim?”
“No,” she admitted. “The girls have taken lessons but I…can’t bring myself to.”
He gave her a curious look. “Is it just the ocean you’re afraid of, or all water?”
“All water, I guess. Lakes, oceans…swimming pools.” Before he could ask where her fear originated, she steered the conversation in a different direction. “Why do you like surfing so much?”
“I’ll tell you on the way to the jetty,” he said, jerking his chin toward it. “The waves aren’t even knee-high today. It’s perfectly safe.”
She rose, brushing the sand off her bottom. “All right.”
Mandy leapt to her feet. Alyssa forgot her tears and ran along the shore with her sister. It was about a quarter mile to the jetty so they had a few minutes to talk. The girls were within shouting distance, but couldn’t overhear their quiet conversation.
Leah crossed her arms over her chest, aware that the front of her tank top was damp from hugging Alyssa. Although she had a bra on, the white fabric looked transparent and she felt self-conscious.
Brian averted his eyes, as if he’d noticed her wet shirt but was too polite to stare. “One of my mom’s boyfriends taught me to surf,” he said, hands in his pockets. “It was the first time I remember feeling safe.”
She studied his face, unable to fathom an experience so opposite her own. Her worst childhood memory involved water.
“Out there, it’s quiet. Peaceful. You’re with other people, but alone. You have to be patient and wait for the right wave to come along. There’s no rushing, no pushing. Another surfer can drop in on you and steal your turn, but that’s rare, and it’s impossible to paddle close enough to get in a fistfight.”
Leah wondered if he’d grown up in an abusive home. She couldn’t imagine feeling more at ease in a turbulent ocean than on land. Troubled past aside, he had a calming presence and exuded self-confidence. His easy manner, matched with that unflinching honesty, made him seem kind of invincible.
Some men grew stronger through adversity.
“I first started surfing to escape my problems. Now I think it helps me deal with them. I always feel better when I come in from a session.”
“Cooking is like that for me.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I have certain dishes I make when I need to sort out my thoughts. I like to let my mind go blank and just focus on the task.”
He nodded, pleased that she understood.
“What happened to your mom’s boyfriend?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t around for long, but he left a hell of a lot better impression than the others. I was sorry to see him go.”
When they arrived at the jetty, Brian climbed onto the path ahead of Mandy while Leah trailed after them, holding Alyssa’s hand. Being near deep water always made her uneasy, but his relaxed attitude reassured her. He hadn’t laughed at her or dismissed her fears. Without pushing, he’d encouraged her to step out of her comfort zone.
Maybe some of his assuredness would rub off on her.
They walked to the end of the jetty, watching power-boats and ocean barges in the distance. Leah picked up Alyssa, propping her on one hip. Brian put his hand on Mandy’s shoulder, pointing toward the rippling water. “Look, a dolphin.”
“Where?” she asked, searching the horizon.
“Just past that orange buoy.”
While they waited, breathless, the dolphin arced across the surface again. A second dolphin followed close behind, its curved back glimmering in the sun.
“Another one,” Mandy said.
Alyssa gasped. “I see it!”
Leah’s eyes met Brian’s and they smiled, sharing the moment of wonder. Her heart did a funny little jump inside her chest, half pain, half joy. She wished John was here beside her, but doubted he’d have appreciated the sight.
Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze away. It seemed strange to enjoy another man’s company, and unfair to compare him to her husband. She’d been unhappy with John and she hardly knew Brian.
Nor could she get to know him. In the past twenty-four hours, they’d exchanged a meal and shared some very personal information. It was almost as if they’d skipped the acquaintance stage—and she wasn’t supposed to make close connections.
She certainly couldn’t risk being more than friends.
Her pulse