Sighing, he whispered, “Do you need to talk about it?”
“No,” she whispered back.
As a kite sailed by the windows, he searched for something to say, but he’d always favored silence over idle chitchat, so his lips remained clamped shut.
As he listened to the muffled hum of the ocean, Wes noticed her running her thumb along the underside of her ring finger. It was the same absentminded habit he was trying to break himself. Just last year he’d finally removed his wedding ring. The silver band once held such profound sentiment. Perhaps their story lines were different, but apparently some key points were similar.
“This entire place looks brand-new,” Sophia said out of the blue, breaking the silence and jolting Wes out of his spiraling thoughts.
“It’s what I asked Lincoln to do.” Wes scanned the room. The outdated wood-panel walls had been replaced with smooth Sheetrock painted a tasteful gray and topped off with sophisticated crown molding. The floors had been stripped of the honey-hue stain and darkened considerably. “I requested contemporary comfort, and I think he delivered.”
“He did. I like it,” she whispered, her sultry voice so incongruous with her petite body.
Wes was an average height, just under six feet, but she made him feel like a giant. One would expect a woman as tiny as Sophia to have a soft, girlish voice. And so the throaty cadence of her tone caught him off guard each time she spoke.
Staring at his glass, he murmured, “Thank you.”
“What did you name it?”
Wes glanced in her direction, only to meet his reflection in the giant sunglasses. He noticed his hair was going in every direction from the run and then his hasty shirt change, but he tamped down the urge to straighten it. Instead, he focused on her pouty lips. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea either, but he kept staring at them anyway. “Pardon?”
“The beach house.” She motioned around the space.
“Oh yeah. I didn’t even know that was a thing until I moved here. I kept the original name.”
“Sea Glass Castle,” Sophia answered.
“Yes.” He looked toward the mantel and pointed. “You see the sea glass filling that vase?”
“They’re beautiful,” Sophia commented.
“Lincoln Cole and his crew collected each one from all over the house while they were renovating it, so it felt right to leave the original name.”
“That’s sentimental. I’ve always wanted a beach house to name. Guess that’ll never happen now . . .” Sophia trailed off and ended their conversation on a weird vibe.
Awkward didn’t even come close to describing their situation, and Wes couldn’t quite wrap his mind around why he had allowed a practical stranger into his home. A raucous round of flatulence sounded from the guest room, reminding him of the reason. For the safety of the child.
Sophia bit her lip and stood from the table. “Little man is awake.” She hurried to the room and was back within minutes with the groggy toddler.
“Hello, Collin.” Wes gave the boy a wave.
“Hey, poo-poo man.” He rubbed his eyes and looked around. “I fursy.”
Wes arched an eyebrow, making Sophia bite her lip again. This time it didn’t quite conceal the hint of a smile. “Would you like some water?”
Sophia placed Collin on his feet and began rummaging around in the diaper bag. “Let me get his cup.” Finally the sunglasses seemed to be getting in her way, so she took them off and tossed them into the bag.
As Wes watched her, Collin waddled over and climbed into his lap. It caught him off guard at first, making his shoulders stiffen and his stomach flip, but then he relaxed and privately relished the way the little guy was trusting him. Collin squirmed and grunted and elbowed him until settling sideways and resting his head on Wes’s chest. His hand smoothed the boy’s hair as he breathed in the scent of maple syrup and baby lotion. He glanced up and noticed Sophia holding the sippy cup while watching him carefully, so he dropped his hand.
Sophia cleared her throat. “I’m going to get him some water if that’s all right.”
“Sure. Do you mind refilling my glass as well?” Wes reached over and held his glass up. Sophia obliged, but he noticed the pitcher didn’t look steady in her grasp. “Here. Let me.” He took the pitcher and maneuvered filling all three cups without jostling Collin.
No one seemed to be in the mood to share any words, so they sipped their water in silence. The only sounds were the waves rolling in just outside and Collin’s slurps each time he took a pull from his cup.
Collin managed a grown man–size burp, earning a reprimand from his mother. The little guy garbled out, “’Scuse me.” Follow by “I hungwy. You feed me, poo-poo man?” He was so sincere even when calling Wes such a silly name that he immediately nodded and began mentally inventorying the contents of his fridge.
“We need to head home.”
Sophia was suggesting they leave, the exact thing he needed her to do, but his mouth did something it never did. It spoke up. “I have a shrimp and pasta salad. I don’t recall any seafood allergies in his chart.”
“No allergies, but I’m not sure he’ll eat that.” Sophia made a face and tucked a thick lock of brown hair behind her ear. The color reminded Wes of his espresso floors.
“Only one way to find out.” Wes stood and tried setting the boy down, but Collin clung to him like Velcro, so he settled him on his hip and walked over to the fridge.
Once the salad was on the table with plates and forks, Wes led them in prayer. As he took his first bite, he realized this was the first shared meal in the house. His throat thickened at the thought, but he managed to swallow it down and take another bite.
“This kid is a vegetable-eating machine.” He glanced down, and as if on cue, the little guy spit out a chunk of celery before scrunching his face. That was okay, though, because Collin had picked out the cherry tomatoes from both his plate and Wes’s, so he considered that progress.
Sophia pushed the food around her plate without eating any of it. She looked at her son and pulled on a halfhearted smile.
“Poo, I wan’ more of dees.” Collin held up a squished tomato.
“We both know it’s your fault he’s calling me that inappropriate name.” Wes pointed his fork at Sophia before using it to spear several tomatoes and placing them on Collin’s plate. “You need to rectify that.”
Her bright-blue eyes flashed with a little life. “Perhaps the name suits you.”
“It’s in poor taste and, as already stated, inappropriate. You shouldn’t be encouraging your child to call people names.” It was supposed to be in tease, but it somehow turned into a doctor lecture. Not what he was going for at all. And by the looks of Sophia, not the right time either.
She jolted from her chair and picked up Collin just as he fisted a handful of tomatoes. “I’m not a bad mother, Dr. Sawyer.” She had the diaper bag slung over her shoulder and was out the door before he came to terms with his folly.
Hurrying outside, Wes countered, “And I’m not a bad doctor.”
She ignored him, loaded up, and was gone in a flash, leaving only a mangled plant in her wake.
Wes sat on the steps, staring down the road long after the dust she’d kicked up settled. Eventually the frustrating mood dissipated and a faint smile lifted his lips. At least by the time she left, Sophia seemed much more alive than when he’d found her earlier. The shadowy defeated version was something he just couldn’t handle, but that tiny woman all riled up and feisty was a different story.