A Walk Along the Beach(30)

“Not yet.”

She was giddy, almost as if she’d been drinking, which I knew she’d never do.

“Remember that I wanted to do something different with my hair.”

“I remember.”

“Okay, you can look.”

Dropping my hands, I turned around to find my sister had done something different, all right. Her hair was a silver/lavender shade. My mouth hung open with surprise.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked, and then added, “John likes it.”

    I had no words and so I started to giggle.

“You don’t like it?” Harper was hurt.

“I do like it. Harper, it’s fabulous. I love it.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “I knew you would. We should do the same for you as a surprise for Sean when he comes back.”

I waved my hands. “Not happening, but on you it’s perfect.”

Sean. He couldn’t return to Oceanside soon enough to suit me.





CHAPTER 12





Sean


My flight landed in Seattle and I couldn’t get back to Oceanside fast enough. Who was I kidding? This was all about seeing Willa. I should be thinking about sleeping in my own bed, taking a lengthy shower, and eating food that was digestible. I didn’t know that I would ever be able to look at guinea pigs the same way again. While the comforts of home certainly called to me, seeing Willa held far more appeal.

I hadn’t texted or phoned her when I landed in La Paz or when I changed planes in Atlanta before catching the flight back to Seattle. Any conversation was sure to include my past, and that needed to happen when we were face-to-face. The hours it took to return from Bolivia were sluggish. I couldn’t remember any twenty-hour period in my life that passed slower. I felt an urgency to explain myself, to clear the air, and prayed she wouldn’t hold my reluctance to share my past against me.

    When I arrived back in town, my first stop was where I knew Willa would be. By the time I got there, it was only five minutes before closing at Bean There. I parked the car in front of the coffee shop and sat looking inside the window for several seconds, unable to move. My heart raced at the speed of a bullet to the point that I felt light-headed.

Although desperate to see her, hold her, I was afraid. If keeping my past a secret ruined this relationship, I didn’t know how I’d handle it. I needed Willa as part of my life. If I could explain how right I felt when I was with her, I would. Words escaped me. I was high on emotion, high on the sense she was the one for me. If I lost her due to my own stupidity, I would have no one to blame but myself.

When I could no longer stand to wait, I climbed out of the car and walked into the café. Happily, it was empty. Willa was busy putting what was left of the baked goods away for the night. When the bell above the door dinged, she glanced up and froze.

Immediately my name was on her lips. “Sean.”

Neither of us moved for a few moments. I stood just inside the door and she remained on the far side of the counter. And then Willa raced around to the other side and leaped into my embrace. As soon as she was in my arms and I could hug her, I experienced my first sense of having arrived home.

“You’re back,” she cried, her arms around my neck, squeezing as if she never intended to let me go.

I was certain I felt moisture against my neck. Willa was crying.

“I came here first. I had to see you.”

Leaning back, her hands cupped my face and her watery smile was my undoing. It was either kiss her or die. My mouth fused with hers and we kissed until we were both breathless. It seemed impossible to get enough of each other in a single exchange.

When we broke apart, she stroked my jaw with her hand and said, “Bandit didn’t do well without you. The poor dog has abandonment issues.”

    Her gaze was holding mine as if she was actually talking about herself, not Bandit. It was selfish of me, but I had to know. “What about you?”

She answered with a weak smile and lowered her eyes as though she’d rather avoid the question. “I never knew twenty-three days could take so long.”

Grinning, I kissed her again. “Me, either.”

She slid down my front. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. This was what I needed, what I’d craved, being with Willa, holding and kissing her. It felt as if I could breathe again.

“I know we need to talk,” I told her, unwilling to let her go, “and I promise we will.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “We need to. Not today, though. You’re exhausted. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” I agreed. My mind had been composing what I wanted to say for the last three weeks. I hoped it would be enough to convince her that the cocky, self-absorbed idiot I’d once been was no more. With everything in me, I prayed she hadn’t gone on an Internet search and found pictures of me with Nikki.

“How was Bolivia? Did you get what you needed?” she asked, leading me to a table where we could sit and talk.

“I believe I did. I took about ten thousand photographs.”

“Ten thousand?”

I would need to go through, sort, and analyze which ones would tell the story that I hoped would convey the lives of these herders. The project would demand countless hours in front of the computer. As tempting as it was to linger with Willa, I needed to collect Bandit, unpack, and get to work as soon as possible.