Page 17 of Provocation (Temptation 3)

“He does.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to tell me you’re dating my teacher?” A look of horror crossed her expression. “Oh, my god. Please tell me it’s not Mr. Marks. He’s always flirting with you, and I know all the other girls think he’s ‘the hot teacher’. But I’d rather you not date any of my teachers. That would be really frigging weird.”

“It’s not Mr. Marks. Or any of your other teachers.” I paused. “But it is someone you know. Or at least know of.”

This caught her attention. “Who?”

I took a large sip of wine, then squared my shoulders, bracing myself for an epic meltdown of teenage proportions, as I’d named some of the shouting matches we’d gotten into, typically when I told her she couldn’t go to a party at a friend of a friend’s house I didn’t know.

“Lachlan Hale.”

She blinked, not moving, her expression unreadable, a talent she’d picked up from me. “Come again?”

I licked my lips, drawing in a deep breath. “His name is Lachlan Hale.”

“That’s what I thought you said,” she replied, her voice distant as she stared into space for what felt like an eternity. Then she faced me again. “So, let me get this straight.” She placed her hands on the island. “You stepped on a jellyfish, and a man named Lachlan Hale came to your rescue…”

“Yes.”

“Would this happen to be the same Lachlan Hale who’s a professional baseball player?”

“Yes.”

“The same Lachlan Hale who’s, like, fifteen years younger than you?”

“Thirteen,” I corrected, “but yes.”

She nodded, looking forward again, her demeanor still unreadable.

“I understand it’s a lot, sweetie. Not only am I dating again after it’s been only us for years, but I’m seeing someone who’s, well, famous. Not to mention younger.” My words started coming out faster as I attempted to win my daughter’s support. “But he doesn’t act younger. He’s incredibly mature. And I actually had no idea who he was at first. I—”

“You’re dating Lachlan fucking Hale?!” she shrieked.

I snapped my mouth shut, worried I’d see horror or disgust on her face. But when she looked my way, all I saw was pure exhilaration.

“Imogene… Language,” I attempted to berate her, but considering she’d heard me drop at least a dozen f-bombs before nine every morning, I doubted it had the desired effect.

“I appreciate your concern regarding my language, Mama, but if there’s ever an occasion when swearing is entirely appropriate, it’s when your mother tells you she’s dating Lachlan fucking Hale! Oh, my god!”

“Is that a good ‘Oh, my god’?”

“It’s an amazing ‘Oh, my god’.” She flew off her barstool and flung her arms around me, squeezing tightly. Then she pulled back, eyes wide. “But his sister! Does he know she came up to you the day she died?”

Of course my observant daughter would put those pieces together. I just prayed she didn’t put any more pieces together.

“Yes. He’s aware.”

“And he knows who you are?” She narrowed her gaze on me. “Your past?”

“He does. He knows all about…him. And trust me when I say the fact we ran into each other after his sister attempted to talk to me is just a coincidence. A remarkable coincidence, but a coincidence all the same. That’s why he was in Hawaii the same time I was. He—”

“I know. He was on bereavement leave.”

She studied me for a beat, taking a moment to process what I could only imagine to be a shock. “So you’re really seeing Lachlan Hale?”

I nodded. “I’m really seeing Lachlan Hale.”

She shook her head, mouth agape. Then she wrapped me in another hug, squeezing tightly.

---