Tessa was both nervous and excited as she walked up the path to the front door of Howard and Betsy Davenport’s house. She held on to Margaret Percy’s good arm, but she wasn’t sure if she was lending support so much as receiving it.
She still could hardly believe that she’d met and spoken with Archer Davenport. Not to mention that he’d told her to call him Arch, the way his friends and family did. It was such a gracious thing for him to have said to a total stranger, simply because she was working with one of his friends. Of course, he was only being polite, so he would remain Archer to her.
They passed the sixty-four pink flamingos prancing all over the front yard and the huge banner saying HAPPY 64TH BIRTHDAY, HOWIE, which they’d seen as they were driving by the house earlier that day. Now the garden was festooned with helium balloons and lit up with festive lights. It was impossible not to smile.
Though she was attending the party with Margaret to keep her from doing anything crazy enough to break another limb, Tessa was more nervous about coming than she wanted to let on. Margaret could clearly read her mind, however. She’d said to Tessa earlier, “You deserve a little fun tonight. And to be around people your own age. Relax, dear. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Tessa had never told Margaret her history, but somehow she felt the older woman had seen right inside her to the pain she carried, hidden behind her cheerful smile and efficient demeanor.
She took a calming breath before knocking on the door. She could hear music and the sounds of voices coming from the other side. In a minute, the door was opened by a woman who possessed both presence and beauty. She wasn’t young, but her face expressed years of laughter and contentment. She smiled upon seeing them, and Tessa got the feeling that this was her natural attitude. Happiness.
“Margaret, I’m so glad you could come.”
“Betsy, you’re still as pretty as a picture.”
The woman laughed as she waved them in. “I’m the same age as Howie. I’ll be having my own birthday in a couple of months, but believe me, I won’t be advertising it.”
And yet, the easy way she’d admitted her age suggested to Tessa that she was perfectly comfortable with who she was, despite the years. Still, Tessa was shocked. She’d have guessed Archer’s mother to be at least a decade younger. She was trim, her golden hair shoulder length and curled into a careless updo. Formfitting white jeans and a black top showed off a pretty spectacular figure for somebody who had given birth to six children.
“And you must be Tessa,” Betsy said, reaching out to shake her hand.
Even though she was a paid caregiver, Tessa suddenly felt as welcome as Margaret, who’d known the family for decades.
Betsy said to Margaret, “You always look so glamorous.”
Margaret made an annoyed sound and mock-glared at Tessa. “She wouldn’t let me wear my high heels. I’ll feel like an elf among all you tall Davenports, except for Erin.”
She might not be able to wear high heels, but Margaret was wearing a black and gold sequined top over dark trousers and chunky jewelry, and she carried a fancy beaded purse. The only way Tessa could get her to abandon the gold stilettos had been to flat-out refuse to come with her unless she wore sensible flats. Still, Margaret regarded the Chanel ballet flats as though she’d been forced to go to a birthday party in hiking boots.
Tessa was wearing her best jeans and a sapphire blue sleeveless cotton sweater. She’d taken the time to do her hair so it hung loose in curls, and she’d even added a little mascara and lipstick. She’d tried to tell herself she was doing it out of respect for the birthday boy, but deep down she knew it was because she’d be seeing Archer Davenport again.
Even as she scolded herself for being so foolish, she felt fluttery with nerves. She’d had a crush on Archer Davenport ever since she’d seen him in his first movie, a teen surfing flick back when he’d been a teenager himself and she’d been twelve. In all her life, she’d still never experienced a celebrity crush like it. She’d seen every movie he’d ever made. So, to meet him in person, to be in his family home, was almost more than she could handle.
She’d have to keep a tight rein on her emotions. She didn’t want him to think she was like those silly, giggling girls on the beach, drooling over him and grabbing selfies. No. She’d be cool, professional. He’d never know that being close to him made her dizzy.
A dog came bounding up and looked so delighted to see Tessa and Margaret that he could barely contain himself. “Buster, how did you get back inside?” Betsy said, trying to push the eager pup away.
Buster was no breed that Tessa could recognize. Shaggy, with straw-colored curly hair, big ears, and bright, intelligent eyes, he was a medium-sized dog with a tail that swept back and forth as he pushed against Betsy’s restraining arms.
“Hello, Buster,” Tessa said, squatting to accept both a shaggy paw and a lick on her chin.
“Finn, call the dog, please!” Betsy called, and at the sound of a single whistle, Buster tore away again. “Everybody’s in the great room and spilling out into the backyard,” Betsy continued. “One of the boys will get you a drink. Have a good time.”
Margaret twinkled at her. “I always do.”
Tessa accompanied Margaret through the tastefully decorated home, checking ahead to see if there were any obstacles, changing levels, or cords she might trip over, but there was nothing to cause her alarm. They walked into a great room that immediately impressed her with its air of comfort. It wasn’t fancy, but it was large and well designed. A peaked roof gave the ceiling height, and there were couches and chairs that looked made for comfort rather than design. It was the kind of room you just wanted to hang out in. And plenty of people were doing just that. Margaret was immediately pulled into a group of older people, all clearly golfers, who wanted to know when she’d next be on the course. Tessa stood slightly behind her while Margaret promised she’d be good as new in a couple of months. Knowing Margaret, it was probably true.
A tall man came over with a tray of drinks—white wine, red wine, and sparkling water with chunks of lemon. Margaret reached for a glass of red wine, and Tessa chose sparkling water. Maybe later she’d have a small glass of wine, but for now she felt she ought to keep her wits about her. Although Margaret had insisted that this was a night off, she intended to keep an eye on her client. And a sober one at that.
As she wrapped her hand around the glass, she glanced up at the man holding the tray and actually blinked as though her eyes might be playing tricks on her. Archer was movie-star gorgeous, but this guy was in a whole different league. Eyes that were dark and smoldering, with a black rim around the iris. Wavy dark hair that he clearly hadn’t brushed, but seemed even more glorious for being messy. Beneath his can’t-be-bothered-to-shave stubble, she saw the sculpted jaw, the perfectly bladed cheekbones. He wore jeans so old they’d worn through at the knees and were clearly too big, but somehow that only enhanced his build. Beneath an old gray T-shirt, she was aware of powerful muscles.
Margaret said, “Finn, good to see you. I see your dad’s got you working as usual.”
Finn chuckled. “I think that’s why Dad wanted so many kids. He needed the free labor.”
“Tessa, this is Finn Davenport. He’s the good-looking one.”
He flinched at the words, but Margaret had only spoken the truth. If she’d ever seen a more beautiful man, she couldn’t remember where. Finn ducked his head, mumbled something that might have been pleased to meet you, and walked to the next chatting group with his tray of drinks.
Poor guy, he wore his looks like they were a curse.
People were ebbing and flowing, and while she recognized a few who’d either come by to see Margaret during her convalescence or had bumped into them on the beach, there wasn’t anyone she really knew to talk to. She sensed, though, that Archer Davenport wasn’t in the crowd.
She stood beside Margaret, listening to golf stories, noting how a couple of the older men seemed particularly attentive to her, and then she felt the air change. So slightly that only she noticed.
She glanced toward the patio doors that were wide open to the garden and watched as Archer Davenport came in. He was holding a beer in one hand and laughing, his arm slung around the shoulders of an older man who had to be his father. They were of a similar height, and one day she thought Archer would look very much like Howard Davenport.
As he walked through the door, it was as though everybody else in the room disappeared, as though they were in an alternative European movie. She was only aware of Archer. She ought to tear her gaze away, but she couldn’t seem to stop staring.
He glanced up as though feeling her gaze on him. How embarrassing. She quickly turned to Margaret, mortified that he’d caught her.
But in only a minute, he was right there beside her. “Tessa, Margaret, glad you could make it.”
She couldn’t believe he was talking to her. Of all the beautiful women in the world, of all the beautiful women in Carmel, of all the beautiful women in that room, he was talking to her. She was certain it was kindness. He must be aware she didn’t know anyone, and he obviously had a soft spot for Margaret Percy. Still, for just a moment, she let herself indulge in the pleasure of having her twelve-year-old crush—that seemed to have turned into a thirty-two-year-old crush—standing there talking to her.
“You look beautiful.”
As practiced as that compliment must be, in that moment as he gazed at her, she really did feel beautiful. And she wished quite suddenly that she wasn’t wearing her best jeans, but some designer frock from Paris that she’d never be able to afford. That was the kind of woman he should be with. The kind who didn’t totter in high heels and was on a first-name basis with couture designers.
She managed a soft, “Thank you.”
“Margaret’s obviously found her tribe. Let me introduce you to my family.”
She was so surprised and speechless at the idea of Archer wanting her to meet his family that she let him lead her away. When she finally found her voice again, she said, “It’s okay, I’m sure you have lots to do and lots of people to speak with. It’s your father’s birthday after all.”
“Trust me,” Archer said with a grin—one that was so sexy it made her heart beat even faster than it already was. “He’s had his pound of flesh and more. He had me gardening this morning, and I’ve been fetching and carrying pretty much since I left you on the beach. Even I’m allowed a dinner break.”
She hid her smile and decided that if he wanted to introduce her to his family, she wasn’t about to argue. He led her first to where a tall, athletic-looking woman stood in a corner with a petite strawberry-blonde. The tall woman had hair so blonde it was nearly white. Tessa guessed that she must spend a lot of time in the sun—or in the beauty salon. But something about her suggested the former. Her toned shoulders and arms were set off to advantage by a short black dress. Her legs weren’t slim, but they were muscular and gorgeous. She stood as though she were on the prow of a ship. No, as though she were on a surfboard. One foot slightly back, the other forward, her body inching ever so slightly toward the center of the room. She had eyes the color of the sea, blue-green, and was obviously in a good mood as she and her friend laughed together.
Archer said, “Mila, I want you to meet Tessa. She’s new to Carmel.”
The woman’s eyes lit up as they shook hands. “New to Carmel as in looking for a house?” There was determination and focus in the gaze that assessed Tessa.
Arch nudged Mila’s shoulder. “We’re not here to sell anybody a house. It’s Dad’s birthday.”
She shrugged, not seeming at all bothered by his comment. “A Realtor’s always doing business.” Then she grinned. “That’s how I got to be one of the top Realtors in Carmel-by-the-Sea.”
“She’s modest too,” he said to Tessa with a fond shake of his head.
Tessa had never met anyone who seemed so fearless. Even though she felt intimidated by this dynamic woman, at the same time she wanted to know her better. Because Mila was so bold, she felt she could be too. “I’d have guessed you were an athlete.”
For an instant, pure pain crossed Mila’s beautiful face, and Tessa wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She knew all about private pain, but it was too late. The words were out, and she couldn’t call them back.
“I used to be,” was all Mila said.
Before the silence could grow more awkward, Archer said, “And this is my youngest sister, Erin.”
For a second, Tessa was surprised that these two were related. Mila was so tall and muscular, while Erin was petite and not someone you would notice when you first walked into a room. At least, not when she was standing beside Mila.
Erin said, “I’m happy to meet you, Tessa. How do you like Carmel so far?”
She was pleased that she could say honestly, “I love it. I think Carmel-by-the-Sea is the most beautiful town I’ve ever been in.”
Erin smiled in agreement. “What brought you here?”
She explained that she was Margaret’s caregiver, but as Erin was about to ask another question, Arch stepped in. “While Mila here will try to sell you a house the minute you meet her, watch out for Erin. She’ll interview you—just like she’s already doing. Erin is a writer for the Sea Shell, our local paper.”
Tessa was delighted. “I love the Sea Shell. I look forward to reading it every week.” And then it hit her why Erin’s name seemed familiar. “I really enjoyed your article about whale migration in the last issue. I learned so much.”
Erin glanced at Arch, her eyes twinkling. “This one you can invite back.”
Before they got any ideas, Tessa said, “Oh no, he’s just being nice.”
Then she was embarrassed she’d said anything so stupid and found herself blushing.
Archer said, “Don’t mind them. Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”
As they walked away, she said, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up an awkward topic with Mila.”
“It’s okay. And you have a good eye. Mila’s the best surfer of all of us—fearless and focused. She quit high school to go pro. She was one of the top surfers in the world when she suffered a career-ending injury. She still surfs, but she lost out on her dream.”
“It’s hard to let go of a dream,” Tessa said softly.
Something else she knew about.