Page 70 of Heating Up (Nugget)
“Where’s Dad?” she asked.
“He went up to bed.”
Dana glanced at the grandfather clock. It wasn’t even nine.
“I think I’ll go up too,” Betty said.
“All right. Why don’t I walk you?”
“That’s not necessary, dear.” She grabbed her reading glasses off the coffee table and started to walk away.
Dana couldn’t help herself. “Wouldn’t you like to know how my new house plans are coming along?” Or the fact that she was about to close the biggest deal of her career?
“You can tell me all about it in the morning,” Betty said. “Good night, dear.”
She didn’t even thank Aidan or say goodbye, nice to meet you, or any of the other pleasantries normal parents say to their daughter’s friends. Dana could feel her face heat in embarrassment.
That’s when a strong arm wrapped around her waist. “Don’t sweat it,” he whispered in her ear. “Show me the house.”
“It’s just that . . . she didn’t used to be that way . . . she’s broken.”
“I know.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s sad, but tragedy does that to some people. How are the plans for your new house coming?”
A tear leaked from her eye and rolled down her cheek. “They blame me . . . for Paul. I was there. I should’ve known.”
He pulled her down on the sofa. “No one could’ve known. It was a fluke, Dana. Trained emergency response teams have missed it, even doctors. You were fifteen.”
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then got up to find tissues. When she came back, Aidan was standing in the hallway looking at the family pictures on the wall.
“That you?” He pointed at a picture of a thirteen-year-old Dana getting ready to go to their club’s annual father-daughter dance.
“I was channeling my inner Tiffani Amber Thiessen.” When Aidan’s face registered a blank, she said, “OfBeverly Hills, 90210.”
“Oh.” He chuckled. “You were beautiful then and you’re beautiful now.”
She wondered how much of the compliment stemmed from him feeling sorry for her. “How about the nickel tour so we don’t wake them up?” Dana nudged her head at the second story.
“Sounds good. It’s a beautiful place.”
“Thank you. It was my grandfather’s and, before Paul died, a real home.” She took him through the main level, going room to room. “We spent all our time in the den and even put our Christmas tree there.”
In the sunroom, she opened the row of French doors and flicked on a switch. The whole backyard lit up, illuminating the pool, the casita, and an oasis of palm and yucca trees.
“Whoa.” Aidan stepped outside. “You’ve got a whole world out here.”
“You want to go for a swim?”
“I don’t have a suit.” He lifted his brows and gazed up at the second story.
It would be just Dana’s luck that one of her parents would come out on the balcony to find their daughter and her very male friend skinny-dipping. A long shot, but Dana wasn’t taking any chances.
“I’ll find you one,” she said and beckoned him to follow her into the casita.
Inside, she grabbed the one-piece she’d worn last time and rummaged through a basket where her mother had always kept spares for guests. She went through a pile, separating out the kids’ suits. Granted, some of the patterns were dated, but for the most part, men’s swim trunks hadn’t changed much over the years.
“How about these?” She held up a pair of Speedo briefs and suppressed a laugh. God only knew where those had come from.
“Not on your life,” he said, checking out the Spanish-style pool house.
