Page 64 of Taming Waves

I glance up at Eden, and she’s smiling, her hand resting over mine. My eyes fill with tears as another kick—this one stronger—bumps against me.

“She’s feisty,” I say.

Wade wraps his arms around her from behind and rests his chin on her shoulder. “She’s a dancer, like her momma,” he says, his words filled with pride.

My chest tightens as I realize this islife—tiny and miraculous—pressing against my hand.

“Congratulations,” I say as I drop my hand.

“Thank you. We’re eager to meet her,” Eden says, looking up at her husband with admiration. He kisses her forehead, and the wave of emotions is almost overwhelming. I turn to walkaway and notice Parker standing a few feet away, watching me. I quickly look away, trying to avoid his gaze.

Parker insists on walking me back to my apartment even though it’s literally steps from the wharf.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” he says as we approach my building.

I glance over at him and raise a brow.

He chuckles. “In that way too.”

“It got me out of Sunday dinner,” I tell him. “Although I’m sure I’ll pay for that in parental guilt later.”

“You guys still do that, huh?”

“Absolutely. The cousins don’t come as often as they used to, but my aunts and uncles do. Dinner is still served promptly at five thirty.”

“I always liked those. Your mother can cook.”

“Yes. A skill she did not pass down to me,” I agree.

“Not for lack of trying, if I remember correctly.”

I shake my head. “I was such a brat back then. I should have paid attention.”

“I’m sure she’d still be willing to teach you a thing or two.”

“How’s your mom and the girls?” she asks.

“The girls are good. They like school. And Mom has a new boyfriend—that’s still weird to say.”

Parker’s dad left when he was twelve, and his baby sisters, Rainey and Presley, were only two and three years old.

“I bet. I can’t imagine my mother dating,” I say. “Do you like him?”

He shrugs. “He makes her smile, and as long as he continues to do that, he’s okay in my book.”

When we make it to the steps that lead up to my door, he stops and turns to me. We stand in loaded silence. I know he wants to be invited inside, but he must read my apprehension because he steps in, cups my cheek, and presses a sweet kiss to my forehead.

“Good night, Audi.”

“Good night.”

He walks backward as he watches me ascend the stairs. I wave when I reach the door, and he turns and jogs back to the wharf.

I have to stop myself from calling him back.

Audrey

Mom was indeed upset that I’d missed another Sunday dinner. I avoided her calls all day Monday but finally gave in yesterday and answered one. That led her to guilt me into spending the night with her and Dad.

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