Interpretive Hearts

Chapter 1

one

Teddy hated the beach. The only reason he had a beach house was because it was private, away from the city, and the deal had been fantastic when he bought it.

He didn’t do water or sun or sand. Though he didn’t mind sitting in the shade under a large umbrella, reading a good book on a calm day in peace and quiet.

That would have worked out much better if the house next door that had been empty for years wasn’t suddenly occupied by a bunch of twentysomethings playing volleyball.

Not that they were being excessively loud or rowdy, but Teddy wanted the beach to himself his first full day moved in for good from the city. At least Mrs. Thompkins on the other side had the decency to only use her beach house for the house and never stepped foot near the water.

Teddy took a breath, rereading the same page for the fifth time, but whenever he started to digest it, a laugh or shout or groan as someone hit the sand pulled him right out again. It was a big area of the beach, but sound still carried.

Maybe today wasn’t the day to be reading outdoors.

Those kids were probably college age, enjoying one of their mommies’ or daddies’ houses for the weekend.

Teddy could read tomorrow. Or inside. He still had unpacking to do that he’d been putting off, as if finishing the last few boxes would put a stamp of finality on his situation.

Shifting once again in his beach chair, he winced.

He needed to get a new one with more padding or that sat at a different angle to accommodate his hip.

The surgery was healing well, but if he did even one thing wrong, it could mean complications or an infection.

It was bad enough he couldn’t dance anymore.

Spending one night recovering at his apartment had only proven what he’d already known: if he had to be forced into early retirement, then he also had to get out of the city or he’d lose his mind.

“Nora, get back here!”

Not that those kids were helping any. Teddy made a concerted effort to block everything out and tried reading that same page again—when a volleyball rolled in front of his chair.

“Nora!”

Followed by an explosion of sand coating his legs as a small white dog pounced on the ball like a martyr throwing themselves on a bomb.

“Nora. I am so sorry.”

The owner of the dog, the voice, and presumably the volleyball jogged into view. One of the kids, no doubt, who Teddy was about to lay into no matter how much this wasn’t anyone’s fault, when he looked up at the young man and….

Shit.

Over six feet tall, long, lean, swimmer’s build, all very much on display since he was only wearing swim trunks. He was young but older than college age, with light scruff on his face, messy chestnut hair, ocean-colored eyes, and a dazzling smile.

“Hi, I’m Finn.” He hoisted his dog into one arm while reaching over Teddy’s beach chair with the other. He had a firm grip, too, great hands.

Shit.

“Finn Archer. I moved in a few months ago. You just got in yesterday, right?”

A few months ago, which meant he was staying.

Fuck.

“Edmund Scofield. Pleasure to meet you.” Teddy fixed his face into as tight and uncordial an expression as he could, because he did not need some gorgeous young beach bunny imposing on his life right now. Turning to the side in his chair, he shook the sand from his legs.

“I am so sorry about that,” Finn said. “Nora just got excited when the ball took off.”

Why wasn’t he picking up the ball and going away? Teddy could see his tan line with how his shorts rode too low after chasing the furball.

Meanwhile, Nora wriggled in his arms and licked at his neck with unabashed joy. Teddy could understand the inclination, but he really did not need this.

“Mrs. Thompkins said you’re a dancer,” Finn said, holding firm as the good neighbor.

“Former.” Teddy dumped the sand out of his book.

“Right. Choreographer now?”

“Also former.”

“Oh.” Finn fidgeted, maybe finally picking up on Teddy’s lack of engagement. “Needed a change of pace?”

Or not.

“The pace changed for me.” Teddy stood with a grimace, hating how obvious it made his injury. “I’d prefer to keep dancing. My body disagrees.”

“Oh.” A somber nod was Finn’s response, which Teddy hated. Pity was always worse than ignorance, especially from someone young and virile. “Well, it is a body worth listening to.”

Teddy froze—just in time to see Finn’s eyes widen.

“I did not just say that. Please don’t hold it against me for any future friendship. I’m not actually that lame. I just meant our bodies tend to know what’s best for us.”

“And you’re what, a yoga instructor?” That would be so typical.

“Something like that.” Finn chuckled. “Actually, I’m—”

“Finn!” A female voice caused Finn to look back at his friends.

“Right. Sorry. Better get going.” Finally, he bent to retrieve the volleyball, still holding Nora with his other arm, and flashed Teddy another smile. “It was nice to meet you, Edmund.”

“Teddy,” Teddy said, because of course he felt compelled to correct him.

“Nice to meet you, Teddy.” Finn smiled wider, his blue-green eyes flicking down at the sand then back up with a bashful flutter before he was gone.

Teddy grabbed his book and shuffled inside, silently cursing the entire way.

“Because I said I’m fine,” Teddy growled into his cell phone.

If anyone was going to call like a doting parent, he’d thought it would be his mother—or his sister, Erina—not his best friend.

“I’m only saying,” Rick pushed on, “if you need company—”

“I just got here. I haven’t had time to feel lonely.” Teddy cringed as he turned on his electric kettle; he didn’t want Rick thinking he would get lonely just because everyone he knew and loved was still in the city.

“Erina had this idea—”

“I don’t even want to know—”

“—about you getting a pet or something.”

“A pet?” Teddy leaned against the kitchen island, thinking of Nora, the curly white menace from earlier. “You know I hate dogs.”

“No one hates dogs. You just don’t want the work.”

“Same thing.”

“Then get a cat. They take care of themselves most of the time.”

“Well….” Teddy did like cats but hadn’t had one since he was a kid. His apartment hadn’t allowed pets. He supposed it wouldn’t be terrible to have another heartbeat in the house. “How would I even go about that out here? No pet stores. The humane society?”

“I’ll give you one better. Your sis already did the research.”

Of course she had; Erina never could resist meddling.

“There’s a foster program out that way. Folks watch pets until they find a permanent home, then bring ‘em right to your door. If it’s not a good match, they come back for it. Easy.”

That sounded reasonable, and it would keep Erina and Rick off his back. “Fine, have her send me the info, and I’ll think about it.”

“How else ya doing, buddy?” Rick asked.

“Sore.” Teddy rubbed his hip. It was time for more pain meds, but he hated taking them.

He just wanted to get back to equilibrium.

He refused to use the cane they’d given him except for when he first woke up in the morning.

“But I’m fine, really. Just trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do next. ”

“Hey, no brooding the first couple weeks. Only vacation.”

If this was a vacation, it wouldn’t hurt so much—physically or otherwise. “That would be easier if I didn’t start physical therapy next week.”

“Okay, a week’s worth of vacation. Then you can brood.”

Teddy snorted. Rick was a good friend. He had an imposing presence as a large, muscly type, but even as one of the best playwrights Teddy had ever met, he kept to smaller theaters, just enough to be known and comfortable.

He always said that his true success was in still being happy with his husband of fifteen years.

Rick’s husband, Dan, was a good friend, too, though a little too motherly, for lack of a better word. He was an engineer, a wealthy one, yet he packed Rick’s lunch for him every day. Neither of them could ever understand what it was like to feel as lonely as Teddy did sometimes.

“I gotta go, Rick. All this exciting relaxing ahead, you know. No brooding, I promise.” The kettle was starting its war cry. Now that it was evening and Finn and his friends had gone inside, Teddy thought he’d give reading on the beach another shot with a hot cup of tea.

“All right. You be good, Teddy.”

“You too.”

His phone buzzed almost as soon as he clicked End Call. He thought Rick had forgotten something, until he saw it was a text.

From Stewart Hartley, the choreographer who’d replaced him. Hartley was brilliant and knew it and never failed to mention as much any time he could fit it into conversation. He was also ten years younger than Teddy.

The message was short:

I need your help.

Teddy stared, amazed that Hartley would admit such a thing. He was midtext back, asking how he could be of assistance, when another message came through.

I can’t find anything in your office. Well, MY office now. Where did you keep your press contacts? It’s almost time for Spring Season!

He wasn’t looking for advice; he just wanted to rub it in that he was in and Teddy was out. Teddy had kept his press contacts in the back of the middle desk drawer, but they were also in the computer, and Hartley knew that.

Teddy responded back simply with the information, then shoved his phone in his pocket before reading any response. Maybe he was due for a little moping.

At least the waves were calm when he got outside, just that low, soothing whoosh. He sipped his tea, settled in comfortably, and got through several chapters of his book without realizing how late it had become.

Hibiscus tea was the kind he preferred before bed, which was probably why he fell asleep.

Waking with a start, chin on his chest, book in his lap, Teddy heard the faint sounds of laughter and music in the distance. Combined with the smoky scent in the air, Finn and his friends must be having a bonfire. Teddy had gotten some reading in, but now he needed to sleep for real. And pee. And—