Page 38 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

Mary surveyed him. “You should talk about relaxing. Your beachwear looks just like your business clothes.”

“Make another smart remark, Miss Forza, and I’m dumping you into the ocean.”

“You’ll have to catch me first!” She flung open the doors and, her flip-flops smacking, ran across the deck and scurried down the stairs.

Alex took his time, grabbing the picnic basket from the fridge and locking the door before he followed at a more measured pace. He picked up a pair of folding beach chairs at the bottom of the stairs.

Mary had frozen a few feet from where the sand began. Late on a Tuesday afternoon, most of the families had packed up and gone home, but a teenage boy tossed a ball for his dog and a few couples walked hand in hand along the shore.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked when he stood beside her.

She raised her voice. “It’s so loud. I didn’t expect that.”

Alex listened to the crashing waves and the swooping seagulls’ cries. “You’ll get used to it. Come on. I’ll set these up, then you can dip your toes in.”

“Just my toes? I’m not going to miss my chance to swim in the Pacific Ocean.”

He eyed the handful of paddle boarders in their wet suits. “All right, then.”

He walked to a clear spot of sand and set up the chairs. Nearby were the remnants of a sandcastle that some child must have taken great joy in building, then destroying. He dropped his phone and watch into the picnic basket and covered it with a beach blanket.

Mary stripped off her cover-up, and Alex took a moment to admire her. She’d filled out since their high-school days. The last time he’d seen her in a swimsuit was at a pool party at his parents’ house. She’d surprised him by coming. Although they were friends, she didn’t like the other kids he hung out with, the sons and daughters of his father’s business associates. Entitled, just like him. Hell, he never understood why she liked him. He was certain it wasn’t because of his money or his sarcastic teenage wit. He’d feared it was because she pitied him. Poor little rich kid whose dad never noticed him, who had everything a guy needed except unconditional love.

“You’re not allowed to stare at my cellulite, okay? I know you’ve probably never seen it on any of those skinny women you date, but I assure you, it’s perfectly normal.” Mary pulled an elastic band from her wrist and coiled her hair at her nape.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, “just like the rest of you.”

Flinging her hat onto the chair, she snorted. “That bullshit might work on some bimbo, but I’m wily to your wicked ways, Mr. Villa.”

He clucked his tongue. “You excel at many things, Mary. Taking compliments is not one of them.”

She gazed at him for a long second. Then, kicking off her flip-flops, she took off toward the waves.

Her running form had never been great, as he recalled from gym class, and she churned over the uneven sand like a battleship. He took a second to admire the half cheek revealed by her swimsuit on one side. It’d be the perfect size for his palm, if he dared touch her. He slipped off his flip-flops and followed.

Mary got as far into the water as her knees before she squealed and turned back, leaping awkwardly against the pull of the waves. Alex was there to catch her and pull her, shivering, into his arms. “Cold?”

“I didn’t know water could get that cold.” She shuddered against his chest, and he winced at the situation developing in his trunks. He waded around her until the water hit the backs of his ankles, letting the frigid water chill him all the way to his core.

“It’ll feel better if we stay where the sand is warm. Let’s walk.”

When he took her hand, she winced. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Just my finger,” she said. “It twinges sometimes.”

“All these years later?” He cradled her right hand in his. Her pinky finger stuck out, away from her ring finger. “If I’d known it’d still trouble you twenty-five years later, I’d have let that kid hit me.”

She smiled wryly. “But I wouldn’t. You looked so adorable in your pressed uniform shirt and shorts. I didn’t want you to get blood on them. I saw your mom when she dropped you off at school. I figured she’d make a fuss.”

He’d been a skinny fifth-grader who’d used a snotty attitude to mask his fear of the bullies who’d surrounded him at recess. Mary had fearlessly pushed into the threatening circle. She’d hit her growth spurt earlier and was bigger than most of them. He still remembered the cloyingly sweet bubblegum breath of the kid who’d grabbed him by the shirt front. He’d already resigned himself to going home with his clothes torn and blood on his face. It might get him a few minutes of attention from his dad. And at that point, he was desperate even for his dad to yell at him. But Mary shouted at the kid and then popped him on the chin. When he howled and released Alex, Alex had grabbed Mary’s hand and run back to the building.

He stroked her finger. “You should’ve let the school nurse send you to the hospital. They’d have at least splinted it.”

“Back then, I was more afraid of hospitals than I was of pain. Ma spent so much time there at the end. I saw the bills that came in after. Besides, it’s not that bad anymore.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her pinky fingertip. “I’m glad we’re friends again. I missed you when we weren’t.”

When she blinked her big, brown eyes at him, he was in danger of kissing more than her hand. And as much as he wanted to do it, this trip wasn’t about picking up where they’d left off on her porch last week. It was about relaxation for Mary.

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