“Then bring him along.”

She glanced over at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’d love to meet him.”

“I bet you’d like him.”

“I know I would.”

They walked along in silence, until Theresa blurted out, “Garrett—can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I know this is going to sound strange, but . . .”

she paused for a moment, and he looked at her quizzically. “What?”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

He laughed aloud. “Where did that come from?”

“I just want to know. I always ask people that question. It lets me know what people are really all about.”

“The worst thing?”

“The absolute worst.”

He thought for a moment. “I guess I would say that the worst thing I’ve ever done is when a bunch of my friends and I went out one night in December—we were drinking and raising hell when we ended up driving by a street that was totally decorated in Christmas lights. Well, we parked and right there and then proceeded to unscrew and steal every light bulb we could.”

“You didn’t!”

“We did. There were five of us, and we filled the back of the truck with stolen Christmas lights. And we left the strands—that was the worst part. It looked like the Grinch had come wandering down the street. We were out there for almost two hours, laughing uproariously about what we were doing. The street had been featured in the newspaper as one of the most decorated streets in the city, and when we were done . . . I can’t imagine what those people thought. They must have been furious.”

“That’s terrible!”

He laughed again. “I know. Thinking back, I know it was terrible. But at the time, it was hilarious.”

“And here I was, thinking you’re such a nice guy. . . .”

“I am a nice guy.”

“you were the Grinch.” She pressed on, curious. “So what else did you and your friends do?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

He began to regale her then with tales of other teenage misadventures—from soaping car windows to tepeeing the houses of former girlfriends. Once, he claimed, he saw one of his friends driving alongside him while he was on a date. After his friend motioned for him to roll down the window, he did—and his friend promptly launched a bottle rocket into his car that exploded at his feet.

Twenty minutes later he was still telling stories, much to her amusement. When he finally finished, he asked her the same question that had originally started the conversation.

“Oh, I’ve never done anything like you,” she said almost coyly. “I’ve always been a good girl.”

He laughed again then, feeling as if he’d been manipulated—not that he minded—and knowing full well that she wasn’t telling the truth.

*  *  *

They walked the full length of the beach, exchanging additional stories from childhood. Theresa tried to imagine him as a young man while he spoke, wondering what she would have thought about him had she met him while she was in college. Would she have found him as compelling as she did now, or would she have fallen for David again? She wanted to believe that she would have appreciated the differences between them, but would she? David had seemed so perfect back then.

They stopped for a moment and looked out over the water. He stood close to her, their shoulders barely touching.

“what are you thinking?” Garrett asked.

“I was just thinking how nice the silence is with you.”

He smiled. “And I was just thinking that I’ve told you a lot of things I don’t tell anyone.”

“Is that because you know I’m going back to Boston and I won’t tell anyone?”

He chuckled. “No, it’s not that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

He looked at her curiously. “You don’t know?”

“No.”

She smiled when she said it, almost daring him to continue. He wondered how to explain something he had difficulty understanding himself. Then, after a long moment in which he gathered his thoughts, he spoke quietly:

“I guess it’s because I wanted you to know who I really am. Because if you really know me, and still want to spend time with me . . .”

Theresa said nothing but knew exactly what he was trying to say. Garrett looked away.

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable,” Theresa began. “I’m glad you said it. . . .”

She paused. After a moment they slowly started walking again.

“But you don’t feel the same way I do.”

She looked over at him. “Garrett . . . I . . .”She trailed off.

“No, you don’t have to say anything—”

She didn’t let him finish. “Yes, I do. You want an answer, and I want to tell you.” She paused, thinking of the best way to say it. then, taking a deep breath: “after David and I split up, I went through an awful period. And just when I thought I was getting over it, I started to date again. But the men I met . . . I don’t know, it just seemed like the world changed while I was married. They all wanted things, but none of them wanted to give. I guess I got jaded about men in general.”

“I don’t know what to say. . . .”

“Garrett, I’m not telling you this because I think you’re like that. I think you’re the furthest thing from it. And it scares me a little. Because if I tell you how much I care for you . . . in a way, I’m telling myself the same thing. And if I do that, then I guess I’m opening up myself to get hurt again.”

“I’d never hurt you,” he said gently.

She stopped walking and made him face her. She spoke quietly.

“I know you believe that, Garrett. But you’ve been dealing with your own demons for the past three years. I don’t know if you’re ready to go on yet, and if you’re not, then I’m going to be the one who gets hurt.”

The words hit hard, and it took a moment for him to respond. Garrett willed her to meet his eyes.

“Theresa . . . since we met . . . I don’t know . . .”

He stopped, realizing that he wasn’t able to put into words the way he was feeling.

Instead he raised his hand and touched the side of her face with his finger, tracing so lightly that it felt almost like a feather against her skin. The moment he touched her, she closed her eyes and despite her uncertainty let the tingling feeling travel through her body, warming her neck and breasts.

With that, she felt everything begin to slip away, and suddenly it felt right to be here. The dinner they had shared, their walk on the beach, the way he was looking at her now—she couldn’t imagine anything better than what was happening at this very moment.

Waves rolled up on the beach, wetting their feet. The warm summer breeze blew through her hair, heightening the sensation of his touch. The moonlight lent an ethereal sheen to the water, while the clouds cast shadows along the beach, making the landscape seem almost unreal.

They gave in then to everything that had been building since the moment they met. She sank into him, feeling the warmth of his body, and he released her hand. Then, slowly wrapping both arms around her, he drew her against him and kissed her softly on the lips. After pulling back slightly to look at her, he gently kissed her again. She kissed him back, feeling his hand run up along her back and settle into her hair, burying his fingers in it.

They stood with their arms around each other, kissing in the moonlight for a long time, neither of them caring if anyone could see them. They had both waited too long for this moment, and when they finally pulled back, they stared at each other. Then, taking his hand again, Theresa slowly led him back to his house.

It seemed like a dream as they moved inside. Garrett kissed her again immediately after closing the door, more passionately this time, and Theresa felt her body tremble with anticipation. She walked to the kitchen, picked up the two candles from the table, and led him to the bedroom. She put the candles on his bureau, and he pulled the matches from his pocket, lighting them as she walked to the windows and began to close the curtains.