Page 38 of California Waves

Was it possible that after being a commitment-phobe from the moment Travis had dumped her, she was finally changing? Could she really be thinking of Herschel Greenfield as a forever guy? The thought was both unsettling and kind of exciting. He might not be the most spontaneous guy she’d ever met, but she also knew with a deep, deep certainty that Herschel Greenfield would not drop a woman because she’d sustained a career-ending injury. If she believed anything about Herschel, it was that he would stick by a person when they needed him. She understood now as she never had when she was younger how important that was.

Maybe the Davenport kids had all been spoiled by watching their parents’ relationship, and maybe after Travis, she’d never thought she could find a relationship like theirs, so she hadn’t even bothered to try. But now, with Hersch, maybe it was possible.

There was so much love and commitment in the air with Arch and Tessa that couples and weddings were constantly shoved in her face. That had to be messing with her too. Her celebrity brother, who’d probably bedded more hot starlets than was good for him, had fallen hard for a woman who was genuine and decent and good. If Archer Davenport could find true love, why shouldn’t Mila Davenport?

As she slipped into underwear that was more about showing off her assets than anything else, she hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. The only trouble she could imagine with Herschel was that Mr. I’m Not Very Spontaneous might think anything beyond missionary position was too wild for him. And that would never do for her. She mustn’t set her expectations too high. That wouldn’t be fair. No doubt Herschel had been cramming for exams and worrying about quantum physics while she’d been living life to the fullest. Maybe he treated a woman’s body the way he treated some complicated machine in space. If so, she’d still enjoy him as much as she could, but thank goodness she’d been clear that she wasn’t likely to stick.

With those completely confused and contradictory feelings, she chose a dress so easy to remove that nobody would need a degree in quantum physics to figure out that loosening the two ties at her shoulders would allow the whole thing to slip to the floor.

Then she picked up the housewarming gift she’d bought today on impulse. She’d gone to the gallery displaying Tessa’s paintings and, knowing how much Hersch liked Tessa’s work, had bought a piece that would look great in his new house. Tessa had been painting a lot of seascapes recently, but she’d also spent some time in the woods around Carmel and had done a series of trees. This one was of a grove of the cypresses that only grew locally. The trees were whimsical and draped over each other like tired dancers.

She loved the picture and hoped Hersch would too. She’d deliberately bought the piece from the gallery, even though she could have gotten something direct from the artist at a discount, because she wanted Tessa’s paintings to move so that the gallery would keep stocking her. She could afford to support her future sister-in-law and really wanted to do so.

She drove up to Hersch’s new place and parked, but it took a few moments of breathing deeply to calm her racing heart before she got out. This jittery, nervous Mila was definitely not like the confident Mila who embraced her sexuality and enjoyed men on her terms for as long as she wanted and then said good-bye with no regrets. No. She felt quite different. There was a second when she wondered if she should drive home and text him that she’d suddenly come down with some illness.

But that would be crazy.

After another deep breath, she got out of the car. She picked up the painting that the gallery had gift-wrapped and made sure the card was securely taped to the front. As she walked to the door, she noticed a large cardboard box sitting beside the garage. It had held the mattress they’d bought together, and another shiver went through her. One more deep breath was necessary before she could ring the doorbell.

He opened it so promptly he could have been hovering, waiting for her to arrive. That helped calm her and remind her of who was in charge here.

“Hi there,” he said.

“Well, hello,” she replied. They exchanged a slightly awkward hug as she was holding the painting in one hand. He looked good enough to eat in comfy jeans and a navy blue polo shirt that showed off his muscular physique. His feet were bare, and something about that sent a shiver of lust straight to her center.

He stood back, and she walked into his home. The atmosphere felt slightly different, as though he was already inhabiting his space. How well this house suited him, she thought with a flicker of professional pride. She’d known it was perfect for him, and how right she’d been. He seemed much more relaxed now that he was out of the hotel and in his own space.

“This place suits you already,” she said.

They walked into the living room, which looked very much as it had when they’d toured the house, with the owners’ furniture. But there were a few touches that were purely Herschel—a photograph on the wall of him and his team in their spacesuits, ready to go out on a mission, and an old leather-covered globe. She wondered if that was how the world looked to him, so small and compact, when he was up in space looking down. The place smelled fresh, and she suspected a team of professional cleaners had already been through.

She presented him with the gift.

“Ah, you shouldn’t have,” he said. “You’ve already done so much.”

For a second, Mila wondered if she’d gone too far in buying the painting, but no, it was thoughtful on two counts—one for Hersch and the other for Tessa.

Hersch opened the card first. She kept a stack of personalized housewarming cards that said Welcome Home with a picture of Carmel-by-the-Sea on the front and her printed details inside. Her position was she never knew when a happy customer would like to recommend her to a friend, so she always kept on hand housewarming and holiday cards that contained her phone, email, and website details. However, she’d added a personal message to Hersch’s card. She’d thought long and hard and then written, I’m so happy to have you in the neighborhood.

She’d hesitated over how to sign off. With another client, she might have written sincerely or truly and signed her name, but after wrestling with it, she’d signed, Love, Mila. She put those same words on all kinds of notes and cards to friends, and if he was nothing else, he was certainly a friend. Sincerely would have been too formal.

He read the card and thanked her, setting it carefully on the coffee table, and proceeded to open her gift. She couldn’t wait for him to see it. Would he love it as much as she did?

She had a long time to wait, because Herschel did not rip into a gift like she did. Again, that very careful, precise nature came through as he peeled the tape off each edge and then carefully unwrapped the painting. He held it away from himself and stared at it for such a long time she couldn’t stand it another moment.

She blurted, “It’s by Tessa Taylor. You were admiring her work at the plein air show when I first met you.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze still focused on the painting. “I know. I’m just admiring the brushstrokes. She’s a truly talented painter.” He looked up at her, and she saw the warmth shining in his eyes. “I honestly cannot imagine a more ideal gift. I can’t even decide where I’ll hang this, because it will look right in every single room. It’s so thoughtful. I love it.”

She felt a rush of relief. He had seen the painting the way she had. “I think so too. And you’ll notice there isn’t a drop of water in sight. I specifically chose a painting that only included trees.”

He chuckled. “And I appreciate it. I’ve been here long enough to recognize that these are the Carmel cypresses. But she’s made them seem so alive—as if you look at the painting long enough, they’ll start moving with the breeze.”

“You felt that too,” she replied, so happy that he had seen the energy in the painting the way she had.

He stood then and, holding the painting in front of him, began to circle the room. A nice print was hanging above the fireplace. He took it down and put Tessa’s painting in its place.

“Oh, it’s perfect there,” she breathed. Then louder, she said, “Just perfect.”

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