Free Seaside Sunsets by Melissa Foster Page A

you’re a daddy’s girl?” He moved to her side, keeping his hand on her hip.
    She blinked up at him. She was a daddy’s girl. Was it okay to be a daddy’s girl, or would that make her seem immature? Did she care if it did? Hadn’t she come on this vacation to figure out who she was—aside from a cellist? Aside from her mother’s expectations? She was done pretending to be someone else. For any reason.
    “I guess I am,” she admitted, and it felt darn good.
    He draped his arm over her shoulder. “Then we have something in common, because I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m a bit of a grandma’s guy.”
    Unless guys had totally changed in the last few years while she was busy playing her heart out, Jamie was as unique in his honesty as with his emotions. He kept surprising her, and the more he did, the more she liked him.
    The morning went by too fast. Vera bought a scarf, Jamie picked up a few war novels, and they ate lunch beneath an umbrella at a picnic table in the courtyard beside the snack bar. Even though she was having a wonderful time and could walk around for another few hours without an ounce of boredom, it was nice to get a break from the hot sun. She and Jamie sat shoulder to shoulder across from Vera. Turkey sandwiches and iced tea had never tasted so good.
    Vera set her napkin on the table. “Do you play the cello professionally?”
    “Yes. I’m taking a bit of a hiatus at the moment.” She sipped her iced tea, trying to ignore the way her nerves started to quiver. She wasn’t quite ready to reveal that she worked for the Boston Symphony Orchestra.
    Vera raised her brows. “A hiatus. Oh yes, how I used to dream of those. That’s not something that is typically acceptable in the larger orchestras, unless there’s illness, of course, or something as unavoidable. But dreaming I did, for a break from the long hours of practice and working most evenings. Of course, I was married and my husband might not have liked sweets, but he loved my music. He was very supportive. But a young, single girl like you? How do you fit in a social life?”
    She did understand. Jessica breathed a little easier. She felt Jamie’s eyes on her and glanced at him. Yup, still devastatingly handsome . And he was waiting to hear about her nonexistent social life. Why did she find it embarrassing that she didn’t have one?
    “I’m working on the social part of my life.”
    “Well, then, maybe this summer will prove to be good for both of you.” Vera rose to her feet and Jamie went to her side. Vera patted his arm. “Relax, dear. I’m just going to the ladies’ room. Sit and visit with Jessica.”
    “I’ll walk you over.” Jamie kept hold of her arm.
    “I’m fine, sweetheart.” Vera peered around him at Jessica. “He’s worse than a mother sometimes. Thoughtful to a fault.” She touched Jamie’s cheek. “I raised you right.”
    Jamie watched her walk away. “I worry about her falling,” he said as he straddled the bench beside Jessica. She loved how he fussed over his grandmother.
    Why did everything he did make him sexier?
    “She’s wonderful. You’re lucky. I barely knew my grandparents.”
    “Yeah.” He touched the ends of Jessica’s hair. “I am lucky.”
    “Did you and your parents live with your grandparents when you were younger?”
    His eyes grew serious again. Jamie ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. Her hair was so long that people often asked if they could touch it. Jamie’s touch was different, more intimate. As if they’d been dating for a long time and he was comfortable enough to do it without asking. Jessica wasn’t used to this type of intimacy. She’d never played with girlfriends’ hair or even worn her hair down often. Her performance hair , as she’d come to call it, was a tight bun secured with a million pins to ensure not a strand came loose.
    He scooted closer, one strong leg behind her, the other touching her knee.
    “My parents died when I was six.