not like it here?” She could have kicked herself as soon as it slipped out. It sounded suspiciously like she cared that he didn’t like it here.
“How much you like Lindstrom Beach depends on your pedigree.” Suddenly he sounded very serious, indeed.
She glanced at him. His mouth had a firm line to it, and he took a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. She was pretty sure those sunglasses had been in the lake yesterday.
“It does not.”
“Spoken by the one with the pedigree. You have no idea what it was like to be a kid from the wrong side of the tracks in Lindstrom Beach.”
This time the chill in the voice was hers. “That may be true, but it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.”
Suddenly, the pain felt fresh between them, like fragile skin that had been burned only an hour or two before. He had been right. There was no point being so serious.
If she could, she would have left things as they were, lived contentedly in the lie that she was all over that, the summer she had spent loving Mac nothing more than the foolish crush of a woman barely more than a girl. She’d only been seventeen, after all.
He had teased her about it then. The perfect doctor’s daughter having her walk on the wild side. When she had first heard the name of his company, she had wondered if he was taunting her for what she had missed. But he had never asked her to go on that journey with him. And besides, that brief walk on the wild side had been a mistake.
The repercussions had torn her oh-so-stable family apart. And then, there was the little place on a knoll behind the house, deeply shaded by hundred-year-old pines, that she went to, that reminded her what a mistake it had been.
Leave it, a voice inside her ordered. But she was not at all sure that she could.
“Macintyre Hudson,” Lucy said, her voice deliberately reprimanding, “you lived next door to me, not on the wrong side of the tracks.”
But underneath the reprimand, was she still hoping she could draw something out of him? That she could do today what she had not been able to do all those years ago?
Find out who he really was, what was just beneath the surface of the incorrigible facade he put on for the world?
He snorted. “The wrong side of the tracks is not a physical division. Your father hated Mama’s old cottage, hardly more than a fishing shack, being right next door to his mansion. He hated it more that she brought children of questionable background there. His failures in life: he failed to have Mama’s place shut down, and he failed to bully her in to moving.”
Mac didn’t know that, in the end, her father had considered her one of his failures, too.
“But it looks like Claudia Johnson née Mitchell-Franks has taken over where he left off,” he said drily. And then he grinned, as if he didn’t care about any of it. “I think we should attend her little shindig on Friday night at the yacht club.”
The grin back, she knew her efforts to get below the surface had been thwarted. Again. She should have known better than to try.
“I wouldn’t go there on Friday night if my life depended on it,” she said.
“Really? Why?”
“First of all, I wasn’t invited.”
“You need an invitation?”
A little shock rippled through her. All those years ago, was it possible that he had never thought to invite her to go with him when he left Lindstrom Beach? That he had just thought if she wanted to go, she would have taken the initiative?
Lucy did not want to be thinking about ancient history. She was not allowing herself to dwell on what might have been.
But still, she said, “Yes, I need an invitation.”
“Your grandfather built the damned place.”
“I never renewed my membership when I came back.”
“You’re going to allow Claudia to snub you? I’d go just to tick her off. It could be fun.”
But Lucy felt something dive in the bottom of her stomach at the thought of going somewhere where she wasn’t wanted,
“How much you like Lindstrom Beach depends on your pedigree.” Suddenly he sounded very serious, indeed.
She glanced at him. His mouth had a firm line to it, and he took a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. She was pretty sure those sunglasses had been in the lake yesterday.
“It does not.”
“Spoken by the one with the pedigree. You have no idea what it was like to be a kid from the wrong side of the tracks in Lindstrom Beach.”
This time the chill in the voice was hers. “That may be true, but it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.”
Suddenly, the pain felt fresh between them, like fragile skin that had been burned only an hour or two before. He had been right. There was no point being so serious.
If she could, she would have left things as they were, lived contentedly in the lie that she was all over that, the summer she had spent loving Mac nothing more than the foolish crush of a woman barely more than a girl. She’d only been seventeen, after all.
He had teased her about it then. The perfect doctor’s daughter having her walk on the wild side. When she had first heard the name of his company, she had wondered if he was taunting her for what she had missed. But he had never asked her to go on that journey with him. And besides, that brief walk on the wild side had been a mistake.
The repercussions had torn her oh-so-stable family apart. And then, there was the little place on a knoll behind the house, deeply shaded by hundred-year-old pines, that she went to, that reminded her what a mistake it had been.
Leave it, a voice inside her ordered. But she was not at all sure that she could.
“Macintyre Hudson,” Lucy said, her voice deliberately reprimanding, “you lived next door to me, not on the wrong side of the tracks.”
But underneath the reprimand, was she still hoping she could draw something out of him? That she could do today what she had not been able to do all those years ago?
Find out who he really was, what was just beneath the surface of the incorrigible facade he put on for the world?
He snorted. “The wrong side of the tracks is not a physical division. Your father hated Mama’s old cottage, hardly more than a fishing shack, being right next door to his mansion. He hated it more that she brought children of questionable background there. His failures in life: he failed to have Mama’s place shut down, and he failed to bully her in to moving.”
Mac didn’t know that, in the end, her father had considered her one of his failures, too.
“But it looks like Claudia Johnson née Mitchell-Franks has taken over where he left off,” he said drily. And then he grinned, as if he didn’t care about any of it. “I think we should attend her little shindig on Friday night at the yacht club.”
The grin back, she knew her efforts to get below the surface had been thwarted. Again. She should have known better than to try.
“I wouldn’t go there on Friday night if my life depended on it,” she said.
“Really? Why?”
“First of all, I wasn’t invited.”
“You need an invitation?”
A little shock rippled through her. All those years ago, was it possible that he had never thought to invite her to go with him when he left Lindstrom Beach? That he had just thought if she wanted to go, she would have taken the initiative?
Lucy did not want to be thinking about ancient history. She was not allowing herself to dwell on what might have been.
But still, she said, “Yes, I need an invitation.”
“Your grandfather built the damned place.”
“I never renewed my membership when I came back.”
“You’re going to allow Claudia to snub you? I’d go just to tick her off. It could be fun.”
But Lucy felt something dive in the bottom of her stomach at the thought of going somewhere where she wasn’t wanted,
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