Side Trip(46)

Noise on the shore caught Joy’s attention. Her gaze sailed to a young couple sunbathing. The woman was reading and the guy nursed a beer. He people watched, but his attention was on the woman by his side. His hand stroked the woman’s calf.

Joy stared at them long enough to be rude should they notice her before she bit into her lower lip and quickly looked away. She glanced at him, as if guilty she’d been caught watching the couple in the first place. “Have you ever been in love?” she asked, her tone hesitant.

Her question surprised him. Dylan let go of her waist. She watched him intently. He swallowed roughly. “Yes, years ago.”

“What happened?”

He’d fucked up, that was what happened. And he’d probably do it again if he weren’t so adamant about remaining single.

“She was a friend from home.” He dragged a wet hand down his face. “And that’s all you need to know.” Sonia wasn’t someone he talked about with others, and he felt especially uncomfortable discussing her with Joy. His own actions shamed him.

Hurt flared in Joy’s eyes.

His stomach hardened and he briefly looked down at the water’s murky surface. He hadn’t meant that to sound so harsh. “Sorry. I don’t like talking about it. I’m not proud of what I did.”

She tilted her head and regarded him silently. “Maybe she wasn’t the right one for you.”

There wasn’t going to be anyone for him, he’d make sure of it. The music industry was tough on relationships. Jack’s and Cal’s lack of success was proof enough, but Sonia was Dylan’s outro. If his life was a song, his screwup was the instrumental conclusion, ending all doubts he might have had about whether he could find love and keep it and expect Westfield Records to succeed. He had to make a choice, and he chose music.

“What’s with all the questions?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile to soften his defensive tone.

“Just trying to get to know you better.” She twisted her wet hair and draped it over her shoulder. “You got me thinking about what you said yesterday at dinner.”

Dylan cringed. He’d been a royal pain at dinner. “What did I say?”

“You mentioned that I never talk about Mark around you, and you’re right. You’re here and he’s not, and I feel guilty about that.” She shrugged her shoulder and looked at the rock face. She scratched a fingernail on the stone.

“Do you want him here?”

She frowned, then shook her head after a beat. “It’s not that I don’t love him. I do. It’s just . . . complicated.” She chewed her lower lip. “You can do the same. Ask me anything. I’ll tell you about Mark.”

He stared at her. He didn’t want to know about Mark. He wanted to know more about Joy. Questions lined up in his head: What song would she pick if he offered to sing to her? Would she mind if he wrote a song about her? Would she think him uncool if she knew he owned a pair of Crocs? Each demanded attention. He couldn’t figure which to ask first.

Joy must have mistaken his silence for disinterest. The interest brightening her eyes dimmed. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m going to lay out.” She swam off before he could stop her, leaving him to wonder what was so complicated about her relationship with Mark.

Everything, probably. Relationships were messy.

Dylan joined Joy on the shore. He wrapped his towel around his waist and sat beside her. “I do have a question.” A safe and simple one. “Are you looking forward to New York?” She hadn’t shown much excitement about her move.

Joy bit into an apple left over from lunch. “Yes. Have you been?”

“Many times. Chase and I are weighing the idea of opening a recording studio in Manhattan.” Someday. Chase wasn’t yet sold on the idea. “Tell me about your job again. What are you going to do?”

“Beauty products at Vintage Chic. I want to create my own lipstick line with their label.”

“Says the girl who doesn’t wear lipstick.”

“I do, too,” she said, aghast.

“If I searched your purse, would I find anything other than lip balm?”

“Yes. I have a tube of Russian red.”

“Judy’s favorite?”

Joy nodded, her lips rolled over her teeth and mouth pressed flat. She looked reluctant to admit it, so he took a gamble.

“You haven’t worn it yet.”

She opened her mouth, then clamped it shut. “No.”

He laughed. “See? Interesting career choice for someone who doesn’t seem passionate about the product.”

“I won’t be working just with lipsticks.” Her objection sounded like a pout. She slumped beside him and Dylan sensed fun Joy fading. Not yet ready to lose that Joy, he asked, “What’s left on your bucket list?”

Joy pulled out the list and read off the remaining items. “Do something spontaneous, do something daring, sleep under the stars, and dance in the rain.”

Dylan peered at the sky. “Doubtful you can do that one anytime soon.” The sun was getting low, but the sky was crystal blue.

“True,” she agreed. “But I’m checking off a different one as soon as that family leaves.” She pointed across the beach area.

Dylan glanced over his shoulder at a family of five. They were the last kids left at the swimming hole, and the parents were packing up their picnic. A few other couples, including Joy and him, remained.