“No. I’m not willing to risk Lily’s wrath. If she says she has spies, she has spies.”

She put together a walking picnic of thick sandwiches, the baked sweet potato chips Lily—barely—approved of for Hugh’s diet, a couple of Cuties, and water bottles.

She really wanted a Coke herself, but it didn’t seem fair.

As they walked down the path, then the steps toward the beach, she relaxed. The man who walked with her still moved like a dancer. Slower maybe, she thought, but still with that same easy grace.

When they reached the beach, she aimed for the old stone bench so they could sit and eat and enjoy.

No bite to the wind today to stir up white horses on the water, but air that felt more of May than of February.

“I have this memory of sitting here with Grandda. It would’ve been summer, and he gave me a bag of M&M’s. My mother wouldn’t allow candy, so he’d sneak it to me when he could. It was the best candy in the world, sitting here that bright, bright day eating M&M’s with him. We had sunglasses on—I still remember mine. I was in a pink-is-everything stage, so they were pink, heart-shaped, with little sparkles in the frame.”

She smiled as she bit into her sandwich. “He said we were just a couple of movie stars.”

“It’s a good memory.”

“It really is. Now I’ll have this one, with you, on a cloudless, miraculous day in February.”

The towering trees of the kelp forest waved, green and gold, in the shallows, and the strip of sand sparkled—like her long-ago sunglasses—with mica.

On a huddle of rocks at the far curve of the beach, sea lions lazed. Occasionally one slid silkily into the water. To swim and feed, Cate thought, in the forest of kelp.

One sat up, big chest rising, lifted his head to let out a series of barks. It made her think of Dillon and his dogs.

“Are you really thinking of getting a dog?”

“They do sound like them, don’t they?” Hugh sampled a chip. He’d rather have fried, with a lot of salt. But a man had to take what he could get. “We always worked and traveled so much, it didn’t seem fair. And now Dillon brings his to visit, so we have that. Still, I’ve been thinking about it. It might be time to think about getting a companion for our retirement.”

“Retirement.” She could only roll her eyes. “Lily’s on a plane to New York to do Broadway. And I know you’re going to sign on to that project you mention—every day. Crazy Grandpa road trip.”

Grinning, he ate another chip. “It’s a comedy jewel of a part, a good supporting role. Speaking of projects, do you know if anyone’s bought the rights to the book you’re voicing?”

She rolled her eyes again. “Retirement.”

She stretched out her legs, began to peel one of the oranges to share with him. The sharp, sweet smell hit the air like joy.

“I’ll find out,” she told him.

The balm didn’t last, but that made the memory all the sweeter. She worked through a day of slashing rain and wild wind, took her breaks just standing and looking out at the drama.

Hugh joined her for two more sessions, and she joined him for his Lily-assigned thirty minutes of cardio in the gym.

“The leg’s fine,” he insisted as he worked through a brisk walk on the treadmill.

“Ten more minutes.”

He scowled over as Cate ran full out on hers. “Show-off.”

“Oh yeah, and after this, it’s strength training day. Fifteen minutes with the weights.”

He scowled again, but she knew he enjoyed it—at least when she kept him company.

“We polish it off”—she had to pause to gulp down water—“with a good stretch, and Consuela, who is definitely one of Lily’s spies—can report we did our duty.”

“She can see for herself when I fly out to New York next week. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Gotta work.”

When they hit the thirty, both reached for towels and water.

For the next fifteen, he used the weight machines, and she hit the free weights. She had to admit the side benefit of keeping an eye on him, keeping him company bled over into making her feel stronger. And sleep better.

Not just because February had, finally, whipped into March, but because she just moved more.

When they polished it off with stretches, she had to shake her head. “You’re still Gumby, Grandpa.”

With a grin, he looked over as they both did wide-legged forward folds. “Passed it on to you.”

“For which I’m grateful.”

“I’m going to be in top shape when I start shooting.”

She angled over to her right leg. “You took the part.”

“Signed on this morning.”

“When do you start?”

“The first table read’s in a couple of weeks. I can fly back whenever I’m not on call. Comedy jewel,” he reminded her.

She angled to the left. “What does the boss say?”

“I knew you’d ask that. Lily’s fine with it.” He straightened, showed off his excellent balance as well as flexibility with a quad stretch.

“Now how about we get a nice little snack?”

“It’s going to be fruit and yogurt. Consuela.”

Sorrow covered him. “We deserve so much more. You got any ice cream at your place?”

“I might.” They started up together.

“Maybe I’ll come visit you later. If you’re working, I’ll just, you know, make myself at home.”

“One scoop, no toppings.”

“What sort of toppings?”

She shook her head at him as they turned toward the kitchen.

The dogs ran out to greet them.

“Look who’s here!” Delight in his voice, Hugh bent down to rub. “Did you bring your boy or drive over yourself?”

The boy sat in the kitchen with a big mug of coffee and a plate—a whole plate—of cookies.

“I want some of those.”

“You get one.” Consuela eyed Hugh, held up a single finger. “With skim milk.”

“I just did an hour in the gym. Who’s the boss around here?”

“Miss Lily is the boss. You sit. One cookie, skim milk. Two cookies for you,” she told Cate. “And milk.”

“Can I have it in a latte? You know I don’t really—”

“A latte,” Consuela said quickly, remembering.

Dillon lifted his hands as Consuela poured skim milk for Hugh. “I had some errands. I dropped off some of the things Consuela ordered while I was out. Don’t blame me.”

“Didn’t even know we had cookies,” Hugh grumbled as Consuela set one on a small plate in front of him.

“I baked while you were in the gym because my young man said he would come see me.” Consuela fluttered her lashes at Dillon. “And tonight, you can have one more cookie. And you’ll have steak because my handsome boy came. Some red meat is good for your blood.”

“I hear that.”

“The hour in the gym looks good on you. Both of you.”

“This one? He doesn’t need the gym. He is a working man.” To prove it, Consuela squeezed Dillon’s biceps. “Such arms!”