The Summer Getaway: A Novel(36)

Cord had kept calling her, but she’d refused to speak to him. A week after she arrived, he’d shown up, full of remorse, begging her to forgive him. He’d vowed that it was a onetime thing and it would never happen again. He told her he was devastated, not only for what he’d done, but for how he’d hurt her. He’d reminded her how much they loved each other and talked about their life together. He’d said exactly what she’d wanted him to say. In the end, she’d gone back to Florida with him. As far as she knew, he’d continued to be faithful for another few years. At least, that was her best guess.

She shoved her phone into her sundress pocket, only to have it buzz a second time. She grinned when she saw Austin had texted her again.

Back on land. So about this Mason guy. Is he an ornithologist?

When the kids were little, Robyn had explained that someone else would be inheriting the house. They’d speculated about who he was and what he was doing at that moment. Austin, learning about different professions in school, had latched on to the idea of the mystery inheritor being an ornithologist.

He doesn’t strike me as a bird watcher, but I’ll ask at dinner. You doing okay?

I miss you. Don’t tell the guys I said that, btw. It’s not manly.

Robyn smiled. Your secret is safe with me. I miss you, too, kid. She returned her phone to her pocket and left her room to go downstairs.

She found Lillian and Mason in the large, open living room, heads bent together as they talked. They turned at the sound of her footsteps. Mason stood while Lillian smiled.

“Unpacked and settled?” she asked. “Do you need anything?”

Robyn kissed her cheek, then took a seat across from Mason. “Just your love and your company.”

“You have both.”

“Good.” Robyn smiled at her. “I’ve apologized to Mason for my behavior, and now I apologize to you. I was rude and difficult.”

Lillian waved a hand. “All forgiven and forgotten.” She picked up her glass. “Mason made me a cocktail.”

“Would you like one?” Mason asked.

“I’ll wait for dinner and that bottle of wine we’re splitting.”

Mason nodded and settled back in his seat.

“Did you talk to the children?” Lillian asked Robyn.

“I texted with Austin. He’s doing well. Harlow and I still aren’t speaking right now.”

“That girl,” Lillian murmured. “She’s being difficult.”

“She would say it’s my fault for not supporting her wedding.”

“She’s too young to be getting married. In my day, it’s what a woman did, but now there are so many options.”

“I agree,” Robyn said lightly, knowing she’d ignored her options and only had herself to blame for the outcome.

The large French doors were open, allowing the ocean breeze to flutter through the room. Sunset was an hour away, but the sky had already taken on a deeper shade of blue.

“It’s going to be a pretty one tonight,” she said.

“Yes, it is.” Lillian smiled. “My favorite time of day, even if I do miss Leo.” She turned to Mason. “We were always together for the sunset. It was, as you young people like to say, our thing.”

“It’s good to have a thing,” he said.

Robyn glanced at him. “Are you here for vacation or something longer?” She did her best to keep her tone friendly so no one would think she was having another meltdown.

“Mason’s here for the duration,” Lillian told her. “He’s a writer.”

“Oh. What do you write?”

Mason looked more uncomfortable than pleased with the change in topic. “I’m not a writer. Not the way you’re thinking.”

“He’s published books,” Lillian said proudly.

Mason shrugged. “I’ve written a couple of nonfiction books on obscure historical battles. It’s a hobby of mine. Until two years ago, I was in the army for twenty-five years.”

“A military man,” Robyn said, surprised by the information. “So you could straighten out my kids in eighteen seconds.”

“I doubt there’s anything wrong with them.”

She grinned. “Then you would be mistaken.”

Their eyes met. His were dark—mostly unreadable but with a hint of humor. His career explained his air of confidence. He looked like he could handle any situation, and that was probably true.

“I’ve been trying to convince him to go through Leo’s papers,” Lillian said. “Robyn, my dear, tell him he must.”

“You must. Especially if you enjoy history. You know Uncle Leo was a professor at UC Santa Barbara.”

“Lillian mentioned it.”

“He loved his work and research. There are boxes and boxes of I have no idea what. I know there’s source material.” She smiled. “You might find something that inspires you.”

For a moment nearly too brief to measure, his gaze sharpened, before returning to normal.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he said.

Lillian looked at Robyn, who turned to him. “Please, intrude. I’m happy to deal with everything in the house, except for Leo’s papers. They’re not my thing. Maybe they’re yours.”