Page 31 of California Dreaming

As he had predicted, Arch slept badly that night. It was impossible to get comfortable with his leg in the cast, and the open windows bringing in the soft ocean breeze did nothing to cool the heat in his body after seeing Tessa in her skimpy pajamas.

For what seemed like hours, thoughts of Tessa raced through his conscious and then his dreaming mind. The dark curls of her hair. The deep blue of her eyes. How soft the skin between her breasts had looked when he caught a glimpse.

Now it was eight a.m., and he was not rested.

Slipping on a T-shirt and shorts, he made his way on crutches to the kitchen. From the hallway, he could hear Tessa tending to breakfast. He paused in the doorway for a moment and watched as she made coffee. It was hard to predict how she would greet him. Like nothing had happened? Or would she be back to that matronly strictness that had been a major disappointment yesterday morning? He hoped not.

At the same time, he felt guilty for coming on to her last night. He owed her a massive apology.

Tessa still had her back to him as she made her way around the kitchen. Something in him softened as he watched her. She looked like she had been made to be part of his home and had been living here for months. He’d always loved his Carmel-by-the-Sea house, but suddenly it really felt like home. All because Tessa was here.

But when she turned to pour the coffee and saw him standing there, her whole body tensed, and she became stiff. Her long hair was pulled back in a practical and very nurse-like bun. She was wearing her uniform shirt again. The one with her name stitched across the front. Obviously, he had made her uncomfortable, and now she was redrawing the boundaries between them.

Not a good sign.

And it was all his fault.

Yet again, he inwardly cursed himself for his behavior. He’d always thought he’d escaped the curse of the totally self-involved celebrity. But from the way he’d acted last night, he suddenly felt like he was its poster boy.

He swallowed and said in his best lighthearted voice, “Morning. Something smells good.”

“Good morning,” she replied, sounding like a hotel receptionist about to check him out of his room. “I’m making buckwheat pancakes with fresh strawberries.”

Without a hint of a smile, she continued to lay the table. With one place setting only.

She didn’t intend to join him for breakfast. His heart sank, even though he couldn’t blame her.

He walked over to the table and, resting his crutches against the marble, turned to face her. “Tessa, can you stop for a moment so that I can speak with you about something really important?”

She frowned. And he knew she wasn’t going to make this easy. He’d have to bite the bullet and lay himself bare to her.

“I am so sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know anything about your past, but even if I did, I had no right to hit on you.” He took a deep breath. If there was one thing his parents had taught him, it was that if you were going to apologize, you should do it properly. “I also wanted to say that I’m so sorry you lost the love of your life.”

But to his surprise, Tessa made a face and shook her head. “Lewis Taylor was my husband… but he wasn’t the love of my life.”

“He wasn’t?” Arch was so surprised he stared at her.

Tessa sighed, then sank into one of the kitchen chairs. Arch took the one across from her and waited. Whatever she needed to say, he was there to listen.

She stared down at her hands in her lap. “I guess I thought that at first. That he was the love of my life. I mean, that’s why I married him.” She sighed. “But let’s just say his initial charm wore off pretty fast.” She paused again, and he waited, surprised to feel his own heart thudding in his chest. He couldn’t bear the image of her at the altar, dressed in a beautiful white gown, waiting to marry someone who wasn’t him.

Considering marriage had never before crossed Arch’s mind, this proved he had it bad for Tessa.

“And then when he got sick with early Parkinson’s…” She trailed off. The silence grew. Finally, she said, “That’s how I fell into caregiving.”

He could see that she didn’t plan to say more. He watched her face. She hadn’t said it outright, but from the little that she had said, he got the sense that her husband had been controlling and not a very nice man.

Arch felt instinctively protective. More than that, he wanted to punch the guy. Even though he had died from a terrible disease.

After he’d gathered himself, he said, “It must have been really difficult caring for him.”

She nodded sadly, still not meeting his gaze. How Arch longed to look into her eyes and tell her that she didn’t have to worry about men being jerks anymore. He wanted to treat her the way she deserved. The way she should always have been treated.

But after the way he’d acted last night, he was afraid it would only sound like another come-on.

She took another deep breath, and he suddenly realized that maybe she’d never told anyone about her husband before. He leaned across the table and took her right hand in his. Not in a sexy way, but in a comforting one.

Her skin was soft. Their touch electric. But he only squeezed her hand gently and then let it go. It was his way of showing her that she was safe here. No harm was going to come to her under his roof.

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