The Promise (Thunder Point #5)(30)

* * *

Peyton would have named Scott the best guy for any job. She liked him so much. On her drive home she tried to remember feeling that way about Ted—liking him. What was clear in her memory—she had been dazzled by him. The way he practiced, the success he had with his patients, it was simply phenomenal. It was almost like the crush she’d had on a charismatic chemistry professor in college—the coeds followed him like puppies, he was so commanding and sexy. And Ted was so goddamn handsome it was surprising he didn’t cause heart attacks. When he’d looked at her, she began to melt right down to her lady parts! It had been very hard for her to maintain her professionalism in his presence during those first, early days of working in his office. She believed she had, but it had been a challenge. He seemed to walk about six inches off the floor. Ted hadn’t made her warm, he’d made her sizzle!

Ironically, sex hadn’t been a big deal with them. Ted wasn’t as sexually driven as she was, not by a stretch. He’d been kind and accommodating, and she’d had no complaints. Their sex life had been...adequate. But because Ted was so masterful in every other way, she’d assumed it was her. Lacking in some way.

Ted had caused her to feel oddly off-balance, though it was sometimes very subtle. Being off-balance had her struggling to make sure everything was all right with him, with her, with them. She’d filled his periods of silence with questions, ignored his small tantrums, recognized the need to reinforce his confidence in her. And he’d rewarded her with material things. Throw three kids and a demanding ex-wife into the mix, and the result was Peyton’s loss of confidence and erosion of her self-esteem, but a collection of a few nice baubles.

She had been extremely attracted to Ted, but she didn’t think she liked him much. And she had been stunned to come to the conclusion he didn’t like her that much. At some point, she’d realized Ted liked himself better than anyone else. She hadn’t quite trusted him. “I think we should make a clean break, Peyton. You haven’t loved me for a long time.”

Oh, God, she thought. Ted had been right. She’d felt her love for him seeping away like a slow leak for so long. She’d kept trying to stick her finger in the dam, to build a partnership between them, to save the kids before it was too late, but it kept leaking, leaking, leaking until there was almost nothing left. They hadn’t had sex for months before she left. They’d barely had a cordial conversation. He was right—she’d frozen him out, and Ted needed to be adored, admired, loved.

No wonder. No wonder all of it.

In Scott’s small clinic she felt competent. Trusted. In balance. She didn’t sense a hidden agenda and wasn’t afraid of an emotional collapse. This was a complete accident—this town, this job—but as it turned out, this was going to be a good place to get leveled out and remember exactly who she was and what she wanted from life.

Still, she was going home to her little duplex after her lovely dinner with Scott and planned to do some damage to a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s.

* * *

Carrie’s deli wasn’t open on Sundays. Sometimes she did a little cooking at home, if the spirit moved her, but she usually tried to observe a day of rest. On this particular Sunday, she decided to take her little beach-mobile across the beach to Cooper’s to get their food order for the week. She had called ahead, and Rawley was working because the baby was still new and Cooper was spending less time at the bar.

The place was pretty crowded—typical of a sunny Sunday afternoon in the summer. The tables on the deck were full, there were folks sitting on low beach chairs on the sand, kayakers and paddleboards on the water. Carrie said hello to those she knew and went into the bar. Landon was sweeping up sand and dirt, which made Rawley the only adult present and therefore standing behind the bar.

“Landon, how’s that little niece of yours?” Carrie asked.

“Loud,” he said. “And she pukes a lot.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Sarah says it’s normal. Glad I don’t remember being a baby.”

She laughed at him and jumped up on a stool in front of Rawley. “How are you doing, Uncle Rawley?” she asked with a smile.

“Kinda hard to believe Cooper had anything to do with Summer, she’s that pretty,” he said.

“You aren’t getting overworked, are you?”

“Nah. I like being here. I just ain’t much for a lot of people, but this bunch seems to know that. They don’t ask me a lot of questions.”

Carrie pulled her menu out of her pocket and unfolded it. “Are you up to making an order for the week, or should I pester Cooper for it?”

“No big deal, I’ll do it. Let’s have a look. Prolly be all the same stuff.”

“I marked the usual items, but do look it over, Rawley. I’m trying a few new things. I have a cold barbecued chicken breast, sliced really thin, on a bed of greens with Chinese noodles, and it’s great. And bite-size crab rolls served with garlic edamame—a good plate. And I have some cold, seasoned asparagus spears wrapped in provolone and prosciutto with sliced tomatoes on the side—to die for.”

“Sounds like something you should swat.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “All the usual sandwiches, pizzas, wraps, egg muffins and breakfast burritos.”

He checked off some items, then turned the page toward her. “You can pick one to try out here, see how it does. Only one experiment a week, Miss Carrie.”