“Gotcha,” he said with the same smile that had softened her when he’d used it with his sons upstairs. The smile that cracked his armor and showed the dichotomy of Rhys Maddox—both the off-putting, cold, aloof male and the adoring father who tugged at her heartstrings.
Her departure from CPS couldn’t come too soon.
Rhys put his washed lunch dishes in the drainer and wiped the table down for the second time today. After three days of rain and being trapped inside—except for a couple times when the clouds had broken and he’d casually driven by the Hills’ in hopes of catching a glimpse of Owen and Dylan—he had to get out.
He tossed the dishcloth into the sink. No, it hadn’t been casual, but more stalker-like. He’d better be careful or he could mess things up. It didn’t help that it had been almost a week and he hadn’t heard from Neal Hazard about the job, nor had he heard from any of the places he’d applied to online.
The only bright spot had been his conversation with Pastor Connor. He had given him more details about the Building Bridges program and said that Owen and Dylan were two of the children the local school district had recommended for The Kids Place program. Connor had also asked Rhys if he’d be interested in volunteering at the group’s weekly meetings and events. Several of the other children recommended had no male role models in their families. Flattered that Pastor Connor would think him role model material, Rhys said he’d consider it and let Connor know before the meeting of volunteers and staff next week at the Christian Action Coalition office. While he wasn’t sold that it was entirely his thing, it would give him more time with his sons.
Rhys changed into a pair of shorts and grabbed the towel from the bathroom. When he’d rented the house, Ted Hazard had said to feel free to use the family beach next to the Sonrise summer camp on Paradox Lake. It was early Thursday afternoon and most people would be working. He’d probably have the place to himself. A half hour of hard swimming might lift the weight of his situation off him for a while.
When Rhys walked onto the beach, he saw he wasn’t alone. Renee sat on a blanket towel-drying her hair next to a woman he didn’t recognize. Just the reminder he was trying to escape. He hadn’t heard from her or anyone else at CPS about another visit all week. He started to turn back. The jog from the house had worn off some adrenaline. Then he changed his mind. He couldn’t be a hermit, not if he wanted to make any kind of life for him and his sons. Rhys strode toward the women. Better to be on the offensive than the defensive.
“Hey,” he called with what he hoped was a friendly wave. He couldn’t tell from the look on Renee’s face when she turned around. It bordered somewhere between surprise and alarm.
“Hi, Rhys.” She composed herself and dropped the towel onto the blanket.
He spread his own towel a short distance away. “Ted Hazard said I had beach privileges as part of the rental.” Rhys regretted his words as soon as they were out. He should have said “Nice day” or “How’s the water?” He didn’t have to justify his every action to her or anyone else.
“Hello,” the other woman said. “Since Renee has seemed to have lost her manners, I’m her sister Claire.”
“I was getting to introductions,” Renee said. “Claire, this is Rhys Maddox.” She hesitated, glancing out at the lake. “D—” The rest of her introduction was drowned out by the shout of a little boy about Dylan’s age racing toward them. Renee’s nephew? Rhys’s lunch churned in his stomach when he saw Dylan right behind the boy.
“Aunt Claire, I left my goggles in your car,” the boy said.
“Daddy, what are you doing here?” Dylan asked.
Not the most welcoming greeting, but Rhys would take it. “I was going to swim. I didn’t know you were here, either.”
“You can swim with us,” Dylan said.
“I’d like to.” He looked at Renee for confirmation.
She frowned.
It had seemed like a reasonable request to him.
“I thought you didn’t have a father,” the other boy said.
“That was last year.”
Dylan’s words sliced through him. His son had been telling his friends he didn’t have a father?
“I told you I did now. Daddy, this is my friend Robbie. He’s not the one who said you’re a bad guy.”
“Hi.” That’s a real confidence booster.
Robbie was dancing back and forth on his toes in the sand. “Can we get the goggles now? I want to show Dylan the cool rocks on the bottom of the lake.”
“Come on.” Claire stood and led the boys to the parking area, leaving him alone with Renee.
“Swimming with Dylan wouldn’t be breaking any rules, would it? You’re here.”
She squinted up at him, even though the sun had gone behind the clouds. “Swimming shouldn’t be a problem.”
Rhys emptied his pockets of his cell phone and wallet. He never went anywhere without identification. A seagull squawked above, breaking the dead silence. This was where he should make small talk, except he’d never been good with small talk before his incarceration, and he wasn’t any better now.
“So, Robbie’s your nephew? He and Dylan are friends?” Real smooth.
“Yes, they’re in the same class at school.”
Silence settled in again, and Rhys looked out over the lake. None too soon, Claire and the boys were back with the goggles.
“Who wants to swim?” Rhys asked.
“I do,” both boys said.
“Race you,” Rhys said, taking off at a pace the boys could match.
“You didn’t tell me he’s even more attractive up close,” Rhys heard Claire say as the boys caught up with him.
He strained to hear Renee’s low response, but the boys and the sound of a boat on the lake made it impossible. He hit the water and dived in, welcoming the cold jolt from the hot August heat. Thinking of Renee in any way other than a professional one felt like he was betraying Gwen. They’d had a good marriage, although their relationship had been strained after he’d gone to prison. But one thing he’d never faltered on was his love for his wife and his commitment to the sanctity of their marriage vows.
Any attraction he might feel toward Renee was superficial. She was a beautiful woman. But he’d learned the hard way not to make decisions based on impulse, and had no room in his life for anyone other than his kids.
When he surfaced, Dylan and Robbie met him with a splash to the face. He growled and tickled them both, inciting a new round of splashing. He couldn’t express how good it was to see Dylan laughing and squealing with him.
“I’m cold,” Dylan said after about fifteen minutes of play. He looked up at Rhys as if uncertain whether his dad would be angry with him if he got out of the water early.
Rhys hid his disappointment. “You can go back on the beach and warm up,” he assured him. As much as he’d like more time with Dylan, ending the game happily on his son’s terms was progress. “I’m going to swim some more.”
“But you don’t have a buddy. You’re always supposed to have a buddy when you swim,” Dylan said.
“You and Robbie can watch me from the beach.”
“No, I’ll tell Ms. Delacroix you want her to watch you. She’s a better swimmer than we are.” With that, Dylan and Robbie paddled away.
Rhys