Chapter Nineteen
“Mila Davenport.” Mila answered the call in her business voice, even though she knew it was Hersch calling. Her true feelings for him had been written all over her face when she’d bumped into him at Arch’s, and now she felt a little embarrassed, as though she needed to claw back some mystique. Especially since she was the one who’d kissed him in the first place.
“Mila, it’s Hersch,” he said, obviously not understanding that she had put him in business mode.
“You sound out of breath. Is everything okay?”
“I was setting up my home gym.”
Mila licked her bottom lip, wishing he hadn’t told her that. Now all she could do was picture him in tight workout gear improving that already perfect physique. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Pull it together, girl. “Isn’t moving enough of a workout?”
He chuckled. “I seem to have more energy in Carmel than I do anywhere else.”
He let the statement linger, and she wondered if she might be the reason for that. Over the past week, she’d surfed for longer and lifted heavier weights, trying to burn off some of her sexual buzz. Although she had her reasons, she’d continued to regret running away from him on the beach. Surely she could allow herself just one night of hot sex?
Even now, she was still fantasizing about him all sweaty and hot when she realized she hadn’t replied. “I know you might not want to hear it, but honestly, it’s that Carmel ocean air that gives people a new lease on life.”
He said softly, “That and other things.”
Were those other things thinking about a night of furiously hot sex? “What can I do for you?”
“I’m inviting you to my housewarming party.”
She couldn’t have been more surprised and laughed out loud. “You’re having a housewarming party? You’ve barely moved in.”
“I know. It’s tomorrow night.”
“Great.” She imagined a cocktail party with little squares of cheese and glasses of uninteresting wine. She’d been to enough of them in Carmel. And then she remembered he was completely new in town. “Who else is coming?”
His voice went low and a little bit sexy. “The guest list is very small.”
Her blood began to pound at the blatant invitation beneath the words. “How small?”
“You. And me, obviously, as the host.”
She’d planned to catch up on paperwork tomorrow night, but he didn’t need to know that. A housewarming party for two? Oh, she could find time for that. “I happen to be available tomorrow night. And I would love to come to your housewarming party.”
“Great!” He sounded as excited as she felt at the prospect of the two of them alone together in his new house.
“Come around seven. I’ll see you then.”
* * *
Mila was surprised at the buzz of excitement she felt as she thought about the housewarming party with Herschel. If she had her way, that house would be very warm by the time she was finished with him. She got through her work with her usual dynamic enthusiasm, but if she was honest with herself, there was always a low-level hum inside her as the hours passed until she would see him again.
By the following evening, Mila’s excitement was off the charts. As she prepared for her date, she opened her bathroom cabinet. Erin had teased her that going into her bathroom was like walking into a high-end spa. As someone who had spent the better part of her life in sunshine and salt water, she’d learned early on the importance of good skin care. Between the various sunscreen products and moisturizing lotions and botanical scrubs, she could easily run her own spa. But her skin-care routine had paid off. She liked to think that if they happened to touch her naked body, no one would know how much of her time she spent in sun and salt water.
She showered and primped and then chose a body cream that was a little floral and a little spicy. As she rubbed the cream into her skin, she could feel how sensitive she was, with a heat coming off her that surprised even her. She’d always had a strong sexual appetite, but somehow, with Herschel, she felt connected on a deeper level. It was exciting but also mildly terrifying, if she was honest with herself—and she always tried to be honest with herself.
Was it possible that after being a commitment-phobe from the moment Travis had dumped her, she was finally changing? Could she really be thinking of Herschel Greenfield as a forever guy? The thought was both unsettling and kind of exciting. He might not be the most spontaneous guy she’d ever met, but she also knew with a deep, deep certainty that Herschel Greenfield would not drop a woman because she’d sustained a career-ending injury. If she believed anything about Herschel, it was that he would stick by a person when they needed him. She understood now as she never had when she was younger how important that was.
Maybe the Davenport kids had all been spoiled by watching their parents’ relationship, and maybe after Travis, she’d never thought she could find a relationship like theirs, so she hadn’t even bothered to try. But now, with Hersch, maybe it was possible.
There was so much love and commitment in the air with Arch and Tessa that couples and weddings were constantly shoved in her face. That had to be messing with her too. Her celebrity brother, who’d probably bedded more hot starlets than was good for him, had fallen hard for a woman who was genuine and decent and good. If Archer Davenport could find true love, why shouldn’t Mila Davenport?
As she slipped into underwear that was more about showing off her assets than anything else, she hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. The only trouble she could imagine with Herschel was that Mr. I’m Not Very Spontaneous might think anything beyond missionary position was too wild for him. And that would never do for her. She mustn’t set her expectations too high. That wouldn’t be fair. No doubt Herschel had been cramming for exams and worrying about quantum physics while she’d been living life to the fullest. Maybe he treated a woman’s body the way he treated some complicated machine in space. If so, she’d still enjoy him as much as she could, but thank goodness she’d been clear that she wasn’t likely to stick.
With those completely confused and contradictory feelings, she chose a dress so easy to remove that nobody would need a degree in quantum physics to figure out that loosening the two ties at her shoulders would allow the whole thing to slip to the floor.
Then she picked up the housewarming gift she’d bought today on impulse. She’d gone to the gallery displaying Tessa’s paintings and, knowing how much Hersch liked Tessa’s work, had bought a piece that would look great in his new house. Tessa had been painting a lot of seascapes recently, but she’d also spent some time in the woods around Carmel and had done a series of trees. This one was of a grove of the cypresses that only grew locally. The trees were whimsical and draped over each other like tired dancers.
She loved the picture and hoped Hersch would too. She’d deliberately bought the piece from the gallery, even though she could have gotten something direct from the artist at a discount, because she wanted Tessa’s paintings to move so that the gallery would keep stocking her. She could afford to support her future sister-in-law and really wanted to do so.
She drove up to Hersch’s new place and parked, but it took a few moments of breathing deeply to calm her racing heart before she got out. This jittery, nervous Mila was definitely not like the confident Mila who embraced her sexuality and enjoyed men on her terms for as long as she wanted and then said good-bye with no regrets. No. She felt quite different. There was a second when she wondered if she should drive home and text him that she’d suddenly come down with some illness.
But that would be crazy.
After another deep breath, she got out of the car. She picked up the painting that the gallery had gift-wrapped and made sure the card was securely taped to the front. As she walked to the door, she noticed a large cardboard box sitting beside the garage. It had held the mattress they’d bought together, and another shiver went through her. One more deep breath was necessary before she could ring the doorbell.
He opened it so promptly he could have been hovering, waiting for her to arrive. That helped calm her and remind her of who was in charge here.
“Hi there,” he said.
“Well, hello,” she replied. They exchanged a slightly awkward hug as she was holding the painting in one hand. He looked good enough to eat in comfy jeans and a navy blue polo shirt that showed off his muscular physique. His feet were bare, and something about that sent a shiver of lust straight to her center.
He stood back, and she walked into his home. The atmosphere felt slightly different, as though he was already inhabiting his space. How well this house suited him, she thought with a flicker of professional pride. She’d known it was perfect for him, and how right she’d been. He seemed much more relaxed now that he was out of the hotel and in his own space.
“This place suits you already,” she said.
They walked into the living room, which looked very much as it had when they’d toured the house, with the owners’ furniture. But there were a few touches that were purely Herschel—a photograph on the wall of him and his team in their spacesuits, ready to go out on a mission, and an old leather-covered globe. She wondered if that was how the world looked to him, so small and compact, when he was up in space looking down. The place smelled fresh, and she suspected a team of professional cleaners had already been through.
She presented him with the gift.
“Ah, you shouldn’t have,” he said. “You’ve already done so much.”
For a second, Mila wondered if she’d gone too far in buying the painting, but no, it was thoughtful on two counts—one for Hersch and the other for Tessa.
Hersch opened the card first. She kept a stack of personalized housewarming cards that said Welcome Home with a picture of Carmel-by-the-Sea on the front and her printed details inside. Her position was she never knew when a happy customer would like to recommend her to a friend, so she always kept on hand housewarming and holiday cards that contained her phone, email, and website details. However, she’d added a personal message to Hersch’s card. She’d thought long and hard and then written, I’m so happy to have you in the neighborhood.
She’d hesitated over how to sign off. With another client, she might have written sincerely or truly and signed her name, but after wrestling with it, she’d signed, Love, Mila. She put those same words on all kinds of notes and cards to friends, and if he was nothing else, he was certainly a friend. Sincerely would have been too formal.
He read the card and thanked her, setting it carefully on the coffee table, and proceeded to open her gift. She couldn’t wait for him to see it. Would he love it as much as she did?
She had a long time to wait, because Herschel did not rip into a gift like she did. Again, that very careful, precise nature came through as he peeled the tape off each edge and then carefully unwrapped the painting. He held it away from himself and stared at it for such a long time she couldn’t stand it another moment.
She blurted, “It’s by Tessa Taylor. You were admiring her work at the plein air show when I first met you.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze still focused on the painting. “I know. I’m just admiring the brushstrokes. She’s a truly talented painter.” He looked up at her, and she saw the warmth shining in his eyes. “I honestly cannot imagine a more ideal gift. I can’t even decide where I’ll hang this, because it will look right in every single room. It’s so thoughtful. I love it.”
She felt a rush of relief. He had seen the painting the way she had. “I think so too. And you’ll notice there isn’t a drop of water in sight. I specifically chose a painting that only included trees.”
He chuckled. “And I appreciate it. I’ve been here long enough to recognize that these are the Carmel cypresses. But she’s made them seem so alive—as if you look at the painting long enough, they’ll start moving with the breeze.”
“You felt that too,” she replied, so happy that he had seen the energy in the painting the way she had.
He stood then and, holding the painting in front of him, began to circle the room. A nice print was hanging above the fireplace. He took it down and put Tessa’s painting in its place.
“Oh, it’s perfect there,” she breathed. Then louder, she said, “Just perfect.”
He stepped back and nodded. “I will never look at this painting and not think of you. Thank you.” He shook his head. “What kind of a terrible host am I? Let me get you something to drink.”
He took the wrapping paper into the kitchen and put it away, and on impulse, she followed him. It was just nice to see him so at home. He opened the fridge, and she was impressed to see that it was already stocked with food. He pulled out a bottle of champagne and turned to her. “It’s a housewarming party. We should celebrate.”
He popped the cork while she fetched champagne flutes from the cabinet. They were lovely crystal glasses that had belonged to the previous owners, but she suspected that at some point Hersch would swap them for something simpler. He poured the sparkling wine, and as they clinked rims, she said, “Here’s to your new home.”
And he said, “And to new beginnings.”
Their eyes met, and she felt a shiver go from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She took a sip, and the wine was cool and crisp on her tongue. Then she took another sip, possibly for courage. They went back to the living room, and she noticed that music was playing. Now she went to the framed photograph of him and his crew about to climb aboard the space shuttle. She couldn’t help but recall the rescue effort she’d watched on YouTube.
She said, “I know you don’t like to hear it, but you really are a hero. I could never have done what you did the day of your crash landing.”
He seemed to take in her words and really consider them. “Going into space is easy. Just throw on the suit, eat freeze-dried food, and learn to sleep while floating. But I don’t think I could have ever done what you did—own those waves, compete at that level, and come back so brilliantly from your injury. I think you’re my hero.”
If he was hosting a party for the two of them, he could have only one thing in mind, and Mila didn’t feel like waiting around. She was far too keyed up. She moved toward him as though to kiss him, and at the same time, he moved forward as though to do the same, and they met in the middle. There was not a shred of hesitation in either of their bodies. They were full-on ready for each other.
Allowing their lips to meet, Mila sank into the kiss, and Hersch grabbed her waist, holding her firmly in his strong arms.
When they pulled away, she said, “I couldn’t help noticing the box from that new mattress outside. Shall we try it out?”
He ran a hand down her hair and gazed into her face. For a second, she thought she’d gotten it all wrong, that he wasn’t planning on seducing her tonight, but he said, “There’s nothing I want more. I think I wanted you from the second I saw you. But I need to be honest with you. This can never be anything serious.”
He was such a serious man anyway, and his expression was searching as he looked into her face. She felt shocked, as though she’d just unexpectedly flipped off her surfboard into freezing-cold water. This can never be anything serious? That was her line. She was the one who kept things casual.
Getting her feet back under her, she said, “Absolutely. That’s perfect. Great.”
But deep inside? She was irked. Why wouldn’t he want to be serious with her? What was wrong with her?
And then he kissed her again, and every thought about the future went out of her head. Even if they had nothing but this one night, she was determined to make the most of it, and when she was finished with him, he would never, ever again say, This can never be anything serious.