Archer Davenport gazed out at the beach below the town of Carmel-by-the-Sea and took a deep breath of the salt-tinged sea air. The waves were often huge, crashing into the shore, but today the water lapped gently on the sand. He didn’t have much time in town, and he craved a walk on the beach before he had to leave his favorite place on earth and head back to Hollywood.
He pulled off his shoes and socks, rolled up the cuffs of his jeans, and let his toes squish into the soft, golden sand, just the way he had for more than thirty of his thirty-four years. He loved Carmel, loved it more than anything he could think of, except for his family. Coming home for his dad’s sixty-fourth birthday party had given him the excuse he needed to get away from filming in LA for a couple of days.
Arch was at the point in his acting career where he could pick and choose his roles. At present, he was having the time of his life remaking a famous buddy Western with his real-life friend Smith Sullivan. Smith was playing the older, wiser gentleman train robber, while Arch was playing the younger, devil-may-care character who ran headfirst into danger and worried about the consequences later. Apart from the Western garb and the steam trains, it wasn’t so different from their relationship in real life.
He grinned, watching the dogs running free on one of the few truly dog-friendly beaches in the US. Somehow, without it being explicitly said, all of the dog owners made sure to pick up after their dogs and also knew to bring only friendly dogs that wouldn’t get into fights. Before Arch’s career had taken off, he used to love to come down to the beach to walk the family dog, Buster, and soak in the joy of watching dogs running with their ears flapping in the wind and their tails wagging as they met other dogs.
He knew a few of the people on the beach by sight and took the time to say quick hellos. In most places around the world, he needed to wear a ball cap and sunglasses so that he wasn’t constantly bombarded by requests for selfies. He was beyond grateful for his fans and knew it was the price he paid to be one of the hottest actors in Hollywood. But sometimes he just wanted to walk on the beach in peace. One of the best things about Carmel-by-the-Sea was that there were so many celebrities here—the legendary Clint Eastwood had been mayor for nearly a decade—and the town culture was to leave famous people alone. Amazingly, even the tourists mostly picked up that basic courtesy.
Just then, he heard the click of a smartphone camera and knew someone had caught on to his identity, but apart from that snatched photograph, he was left in peace. At least until a shaggy white dog spotted him, ran up fresh from the sea, and shook itself, depositing a spray of sandy seawater all over Arch. Then the dog dropped a slobbery red ball at his feet and barked an instruction for Arch to throw it.
Obeying the dog’s command, he picked up the ball and lobbed it into the edge of the surf. As the dog went careening after it, Arch kept walking, giving a cheerful wave to its owner.
Coming toward him was a sprightly older lady with a cast on her arm. He had known Margaret Percy all his life. She owned one of the historic fairy-tale cottages built by Hugh Comstock that was a couple of blocks back from the beach. Margaret was one of Arch’s favorite people in Carmel. In her early eighties, she was always off on some adventure or another. There might be a large age difference between them, but deep down they recognized each other as kindred souls.
They were both daredevils.
Margaret was walking with a much younger woman. A woman who made him feel like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs just from looking at her.
Arch mingled with celebrities every day. He worked with some of the most beautiful women in the world, all of whom had makeup, hair, costume, and lighting designers to enhance their looks. But all of those famous women left him cold. Whereas this one, with her blue jeans and navy hoodie, her dark hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, had something about her that drew him. She hadn’t done a thing to enhance her looks—in fact, the only thing on her face even close to makeup was a little gloss on her full lips. Her eyes were big and blue and framed by dark, spiky lashes.
And he couldn’t stop staring.
When she turned her gaze on him, he saw the moment that she recognized him, because her eyes widened ever so slightly. A moment later, however, she seemed to realize she was staring and looked toward the ocean.
“Margaret,” he said, turning his attention back to his friend. “Sorry to see you in a cast. Don’t tell me you were performing with Cirque du Soleil again?”
Margaret chuckled, the laughter of a woman who clearly made it a point to enjoy every second of her life. “Don’t give me ideas. That’s something I’ve never done. At least, not yet. No, this is nothing so exciting. I was dancing the tango in Buenos Aires and tripped over my own high heels. Broke my arm.”
“Ouch,” he said. And then, “Although I’m pretty sure dancing the tango in Buenos Aires counts as something exciting.” Though they had been walking in opposite directions, he turned around to walk with them.
“I take it you’re back from Hollywood to celebrate your father’s birthday?”
He laughed. “Was it the balloons, the massive sign hanging across the front of the house, or the sixty-four pink plastic flamingos on the lawn that gave it away?”
“Subtle is something you Davenports certainly aren’t,” Margaret agreed with a chuckle. “In any case, I was very pleased to get an invitation to the party. I’m looking forward to tonight.” Then she turned to her companion. “What am I thinking? I should have introduced the two of you right away. Archer Davenport, this is Tessa Taylor.”
Compelled to touch her hand and feel her skin against his, he offered his for a handshake. She hesitated just a moment and then clasped his outstretched hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. Despite the fact that she was fine-boned and slender, he could see at a glance that she took good care of herself.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Tessa,” he said. “And call me Arch. That’s what my friends and family usually call me.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Arch,” she replied. Then she took her hand back, and the three of them continued walking along the beach.
Margaret was so busy telling him about her trip to Argentina that she barely looked where she was going. He was worried that she’d break the other arm, but before he could steer her around a rock protruding from the sand, Tessa did it. He didn’t think Margaret had even noticed how deftly Tessa had intervened.
“How are you managing with your broken arm?” He couldn’t do much to help because he had to head back to Los Angeles after the birthday party, but he could make sure at least one of his brothers or sisters or parents dropped by Margaret’s on a regular basis to check on her.
“Actually,” she replied, “I’m being very well looked after.” She glanced at her companion with real affection. “I honestly don’t know what I’ll do without Tessa. She’s taken such good care of me.”
He’d vaguely recalled Margaret talking about a granddaughter who lived in the east somewhere, so he asked Tessa, “Are you the granddaughter I’ve heard so much about?”
Margaret shook her head, but before she could answer, the young woman spoke up for herself. “I’m Margaret’s caregiver.”
The way she said it made it clear that she expected him to think less of her for having a job so many financial tiers down from his own. Instead, he was filled with gratitude that she had clearly earned Margaret’s affection. It was easy to see that a real bond of friendship had developed between the two women. Which was particularly impressive given that Margaret could be extremely feisty, especially if anybody tried to get her to do something she didn’t want to do.
As though reading his thoughts, Margaret said, “And don’t think I’ve been an easy patient. I don’t like being an invalid. I don’t want to do my exercises, and the things Tessa won’t let me do would make anybody crazy.” She reached out with her good arm and slipped it around Tessa’s back. “But she’s a wonderful cook, excellent company, and bright as can be. I don’t know what I’ll do without her once I’m well enough for her to move on.”
“Go back to Argentina and dance the tango, I’m guessing.”
Margaret laughed. “No, Arch, the one thing I never do is repeat myself. Plus, I have finally realized that I’ve got to slow down. So I think I’ll go on a walking tour of Ireland next.”
He glanced over at Tessa and found her looking back at him, her beautiful blue eyes dancing. It was as though she was saying, What can I do? She’s a force of nature. I can’t stop her.
He hoped his silent nod let Tessa know that he completely understood. Margaret was a delightful and inspiring woman. She always walked her own path, and if she ever fell, she’d just pick herself up, dust herself off, and keep on going.
Margaret tapped her cast. “I’m getting this dreadful thing off tomorrow, and then with a couple of weeks of physical therapy, I should be as good as new.”
“As long as you actually do your exercises,” Tessa reminded her. Something about her tone let him know that she might look soft and sweet, but she was no pushover.
Then the inevitable happened. A couple of teenage girls giggled and started taking pictures of him. Though he truly appreciated his fans, right at this moment he hoped they’d be too nervous to approach him. He wanted a chance to learn more about Tessa.
But suddenly the pair came running up. “Are you Archer Davenport?” one asked him breathlessly.
“Yes, I am,” he said. No point in denying it. At least they were too young to push their phone numbers into his hand or suggest they go somewhere a little more quiet, which had happened more times than he could count.
More giggling. “Can we get a selfie?”
He was about to agree when Margaret stepped forward. “Young ladies, don’t you have any respect? Archer Davenport might be an actor, but he gets time off too. And the last thing he needs is to be bothered by a couple of impudent young stalkers.”
They looked so shocked they took a step back. One of them mumbled an apology, and the other looked like she was about to cry.
But he knew they meant no harm. “It’s okay. I’d be happy to take a picture with you both.”
He stood between the girls as they snapped their selfies. He was careful not to put an arm around their shoulders. He didn’t want their pictures showing up on the Internet, making it look like he was inappropriately touching teenage girls.
Once they’d taken their selfies, the bolder of the two said, “I loved you in Morocco. Are you and Sonia Montefiore getting married?”
How many times had he been asked that question? Sonia Montefiore had recently been named People magazine’s most beautiful woman in the world. And she truly was beautiful on the outside. Unfortunately, she was also narcissistic and humorless, and the one time they’d had lunch together, she’d spent more time calculating the calories on her plate than having any kind of conversation with him. Still, they’d made a movie together, and they were both good enough actors that they’d managed to scorch the screen with pretend passion. But once the cameras cut, they’d headed to their separate trailers. He had nothing against the woman, but the rumors about their love affair were so far exaggerated it was ridiculous.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the movie,” he replied, “but no, Sonia and I are not getting married. We’re not a couple.”
The quieter one looked quite happy with that clarification. Then she finally spoke up. “I’ve heard you live here? Is that true? Which house is yours? Is it one of the mansions over there?” She pointed toward Pebble Beach.
He shook his head. “I live in Los Angeles most of the time. Soon I’ll be finishing shooting my latest movie.” He didn’t let on that he did have a house here.
Giggling, madly waving good-bye, the two girls ran off, all gangly legs and bouncing hair.
He’d been aware of Tessa watching him throughout that little interchange. He hoped he hadn’t come across like a conceited movie star. It was a fine line to walk—keeping fans from getting too familiar and yet still happy to see his movies. Tessa didn’t say anything, but Margaret piped up.
“You’d think they’d know better. I’m very glad you didn’t tell them you lived just steps from the beach. That was good thinking. They’d be camping out on your doorstep.” Margaret pointed and told Tessa, “That’s Archer’s place on Scenic Drive. Even though I’ve never been invited in,” she added with a raised eyebrow, “I hear it’s got its own screening room, and it’s one of only a few houses in town that has a gym and an indoor swimming pool in the basement.”
He got the heavy hint. “Margaret, if both you and I are ever in town long enough, I’ll have you over, and that’s a promise.”
Though Margaret was in her eighties, she looked as pleased as the teenage girls had been when they got their selfie.
And this time when Tessa Taylor glanced at him, he was pretty sure he saw the warm light of approval in her eyes.
“Tessa,” he said, “I’m assuming you’ll also be attending the party tonight?”
When the Davenports celebrated, they often included their friends in town. His father loved a good crowd for his birthday, whereas his mother preferred to celebrate quietly with only family. No question it was going to be crowded and noisy tonight at the Davenport family home.
“Of course I will,” Tessa said. With a smile, she added, “Otherwise, how could I make sure that Margaret doesn’t get up on a table and show off her dance moves?”
“That’s great news,” he said, letting his gaze linger on Tessa’s face until she blushed slightly and turned away.
His phone dinged, and his brother Finn’s name popped up on the screen with a message. “Looks like I’ve been assigned the task of bringing a couple of big bags of ice for the party drinks.”
“We’ll see you soon,” Margaret said as the three of them said their good-byes.
Though he would never have wished a broken arm on Margaret, he was very happy to have met Tessa and couldn’t help wanting to get to know her better. Thanks to his father’s birthday party, it looked like he was going to get that chance.
No question about it, this beach was magical. Particularly when a beautiful woman like Tessa had been walking beside him on the sand.
As he headed up the hill to the local grocery store for the ice, he realized he was grinning like a fool. Because even though he and Tessa had only just met, he couldn’t help but hope she had also felt the sparks between them.
Sparks that were bigger and brighter than he’d ever felt with another woman.