Beach Cottage Kisses (The Cottages on Ocean Breeze #2)

Chapter Five

W orking from home Thursday, Iris tried to get lost in the three monitors that arced around her on her workspace. The week’s output surrounded her from different angles as she edited. One photo at a time. Scrapping some attempts. And way more edits.

She couldn’t seem to get anything right. Couldn’t create anything that gave her the feeling she got when an image worked. Nothing was grabbing her. The internal guidance that normally led her choices was absent.

Once she’d acknowledged the anomaly, she put it down to having had an exceptionally good week, photographically speaking. Because her work had been saving her from the near relapse she’d had over the weekend. Of all the shots she’d kept, she’d managed to catch the image perfectly first time through. Nothing needed editing.

She almost believed herself for a minute or two.

No matter how good someone was at something, no one was perfect.

The photos were good enough. Likely she’d be the only one who’d see they were lacking at some point. But she couldn’t turn in inferior work. Not and live with herself.

Her ability to publish pictures that spoke to viewers, photographs that people remembered, was the one thing she counted on.

The part of her soul that had survived the ravage, speaking to the world in the only way it could.

When Angel nudged her forearm for the fourth time that morning, Iris finally got the point and left the desk. Grabbing her camera, she took Angel out to the beach. Caught the girl at every angle. Running. Sitting. Digging in the sand. Standing still as a wave came in and wet her paws. She caught sunshine on the water behind her housemate. Got a shot where Angel, with a slightly open mouth, was clearly smiling.

With every tap of her finger against the shutter button she released some of the panic that had been barreling her way.

And gained confidence from the steadiness of waves washing to shore. Backing off. And coming in once again.

Right up until Angel tore off down the beach in the direction of Scott’s cottage and her stomach leaped, her heart rate picking up.

He wasn’t home. Scott never came home at lunchtime. He had an arrangement with Dale to let Morgan out on weekdays.

Fact replaced reaction and she followed her girl down to say hello to Morgan. Waved to Dale, who was up on his porch with Juice. She filled with relief, while her mind reeled with implication.

Something was going on with her. More than just finding a friend attractive. It had started before that. When Sage said her vows.

Right after Iris had walked up the aisle in her formfitting dress, heels and professional makeup, with Scott’s tuxed arm holding her hand against his side.

Before he’d left her at the altar to head back and walk his sister in.

Yeah, but Iris had been fine then.

Herself. For the most part. As much as she could be trussed up as she’d been.

The first time she’d ever been such.

Had that been it?

The fact that she used to dream about feeling beautiful, in fancy clothes, on the arm of a faceless handsome stranger.

Back when she was still naive enough to dream.

And suddenly found herself a part of an event, wearing them, in real life?

Made sense. Good sense.

And explained her completely out-of-character and damned weird reaction to Scott since, too.

Her psyche had been subconsciously thrust into an old fantasy.

It wasn’t reality.

She really was fine.

After years of counseling, Iris knew what professionals were going to say before they said it. Had learned, from their teaching, to rely on self-analysis, and complete honesty, to keep herself mentally and emotionally healthy.

Back at home, fifteen minutes later, she grabbed her keys, and Angel, and with the sixteen-pound mini-Lassie tucked up under her arm, made her way out to the garage. She was headed north up the coast before thoughts of the past grew more prominent in her conscious mind.

She’d be turning off. There was no way she was ever going back.

But she had to take care of something.

A minute of looking deeply into herself, being truthful with what she saw there, and she knew what the problem was.

Her stepmother had moved from San Francisco to Fullerton the previous summer. Just an hour and a half away from San Diego.

Five weeks before Sage’s wedding, Diane had sent a Christmas card to the post office box Iris used for her photography limited liability corporation. She’d sent Iris her new address. Telling her that it would mean very much to her if Iris would come see her.

And Iris had thrown it in the trash.

No way was Iris going to see the woman.

But she’d remembered the address.

Which meant she’d clearly been wrong to avoid the situation. To pretend the card hadn’t been sent.

She’d drive by the house. See that everything looked fine in Diane’s world. Know where she was so she could put the information in the mental address book that cataloged her past.

Which would free her up to get fully back into present life.

Where she didn’t break down at weddings.

And where Scott Martin was a dear, wholly platonic friend. Held at arm’s length. Just like everyone else in the life she’d reinvented.

For their sake, and hers.

Arm’s length was all she could take.

And all she could give full out.

* * *

Scott didn’t see Iris on Thursday. Her text came in just as he was heading in from the beach to get dinner for him and Morgan.

needed to drive almost to Anaheim back late not avoiding you

While the communication itself was odd—no expectations, no explanations—and hadn’t ever happened before, he was glad she’d sent it.

Prevented any need to waste mental energy fighting with himself over the possibility that she’d been avoiding him.

He’d had a text from Sage, too. With pictures of the small but growing Bartholomew family at a world-renowned theme park for children in Europe. His twin’s life had done a total 180 in just a few months’ time. Sage was living the life she’d once dreamed she’d have.

Was making him an uncle for a second time.

He couldn’t be happier for her. Would have given his life to make it happen, if that’s what it had taken.

And there was a shadow side to everything.

His own life seemed a bit emptier at the moment. While his best friend and twin sister were on a family-moon with his niece, for sure. And afterward, too. He’d still be a big part of their lives. Would probably still even see them as often.

But he wasn’t as…needed day to day as he’d been.

In the long run, that would be a good thing. It would give him back the freedom he’d had after his divorce. He could travel, explore, surf as much as he wanted without having to feel guilty about leaving Sage alone with Leigh.

Not that she’d ever wanted him to do so.

He just had.

Helping Sage out with Leigh had been the right thing to do.

He was glad he’d done it.

And would be glad to be unencumbered with familial responsibility again, too. As soon as he had time to adjust to the changes.

They’d happened so rapidly, anyone would have had to take a moment to get used to the different landscape.

Case in point, the next afternoon as he left work. Fridays were always only half days in court, so it was the one day he generally left work early. The day he went down to Diego’s, the fish market their housekeeper had always taken them to as kids. He didn’t have to wait in line. Not only did the owners know him, but he had a standing order—a Friday-night spread for three of whatever the fresh catch of the day had been—which he’d cook up when he got home. If Sage and Leigh were home, they’d join him for dinner.

If not, he’d take theirs down to them to have for lunch the next day.

The four-year-old preferred Dungeness crab, of all things, which wasn’t all that common in commercial numbers in San Diego, but when the fishermen brought it in, everyone at Diego’s knew to put a good amount in his order.

That first Friday after Sage and Leigh flew off with Gray, there were three crabs in the order Scott had failed to change to feed one.

He was happy to have them. Had a few ways to cook and/or freeze the meat. But as he put the three full crabs into his big stew pot to boil, replaying the conversation he’d had with his friends at Diego’s as he told them that he no longer needed a standing order for three, seeing their sympathetic looks, he felt just a tad bit sorry for himself.

Not one to wallow in self-pity—most definitely not something one of Randolph Martin’s kids would do—he glanced at the rest of the spread Diego’s had sent along for dinner. Some was from the successful restaurant that was now attached to the market. Including the cup of mac and cheese for Leigh.

He thought of the other person he knew who liked the stuff. He’d seen her sharing it with Leigh more than once.

Picking up his phone, he texted: Forgot to cancel Friday night seafood. You have any interest? Every capitalization and punctuation correct. Because that was how Martins did it.

is there crab

And macaroni and cheese, too.

we’re on our way

We. Angel and her. Accepting an invitation to visit Morgan and him. Dogs who were inseparable friends bringing their owners along to eat.

Smiling, he got busy getting ready to put dinner on out on his porch. Starting with dog dishes hosting nibbles of fresh tuna.

Life changed, but there was good around other corners if you made the effort to find it.

* * *

Iris walked home with Angel Friday night with a smile on her face. A couple of neighbors were out, separately. One walking a dog. Another just walking. At different depths on the beach. Close enough to see, to nod. Far enough away to not require conversation.

Dale’s porch light was on.

She’d seen Harper’s on, too, on the far side of Scott’s place.

He didn’t seem to walk the beach in that direction much. But it made sense. Until recently, he’d always been heading down the other way to see Leigh and Sage. With Iris one further than them, and the Bartholomew family’s new place at that end.

Iris just happened to have been in the vicinity a lot. Especially after she and Sage had become friends the day Iris had moved in.

Scott. He’d served the crab with a sauce made from the mustard juices and even without the mac and cheese, she was stuffed.

He’d had containers of coleslaw, potato salad, broccoli salad and a cooked cauliflower medley, too. Along with Diego’s delicious homemade rolls.

She should have been rolling home.

Instead, her step was light. Scott had shown her the pictures of Leigh at the amusement park. She’d shown him photos her friend had texted from the ornate lobby at the hotel where they’d stayed. Gray had been standing with Leigh, his arm around her back, as she gazed out a window at the sea.

They’d talked about work. The judge had granted his motion to quash his defendant’s prior mental health case. She’d finished editing a week’s worth of photographs that day. And when the food was gone, she’d left.

Just like any other night that she’d joined Sage and Scott for an impromptu dinner. The food was all takeout. Other than his crab preparation, there’d been no dishes.

And…she’d never been inside Scott’s home.

Not that she couldn’t be.

The occasion had just never arisen.

Angel, as though understanding that things were back to normal between her and Morgan’s owner—clearly sensing the lack of tension that had been present on occasion that week—trotted alongside Iris with a happy gait .

All they’d needed was for Iris to take a drive to Fullerton. She knew better than to try to avoid her emotions. Had grown complacent after her years on Ocean Breeze.

And that complacency had almost cost her one of the most valuable aspects of her life. Her friendship with a man who knew when she wanted to talk, and when she didn’t. Who made her laugh. Was able to sit in silence with her. Whose conversation always interested her. Who saw more in her photography than most, catching nuances that she wasn’t always even sure were anywhere but in her imagination until he pointed them out. A man who’d sworn off commitment long before she’d come along with the same life choice.

Diane had a nice home. In a lovely neighborhood with lots of green grass, dog parks and a couple of community parks, too. The two-car garage was a sign that her stepmother had someone else living with her.

Had perhaps remarried.

It wasn’t uncommon anymore for women to keep their own names after nuptials.

Not that Diane’s life choices were one iota of her business.

Regardless, she’d absolved herself of any guilt in that area. All on her own. Not even Angel knew.

And she’d come home to be fire on wheels at her worktable.

Saturday was as good a day, spent on a private boat following a school of dolphins. Catching shot after shot of the marine mammal family having fun together.

Still feeling the day’s energy when she got home, she had her camera slung over her shoulder when she headed out to the beach with Angel. Anxious to show Scott her photos.

If Sage had been home, she’d have arranged for her friend to take Leigh out on the same boat the next day. The little girl loved the dolphins at the San Diego Zoo.

As it turned out, Scott was at Sage’s old place. Morgan told her so when the girl came galloping in her corgi way toward her and Angel from the cottage up for sale.

Heading up the beach to the building, she was just stepping up to the porch when Scott came out.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got to hang around for a half hour or so. The realtor who showed the place today just called. The couple wants to see it a second time and write a full-price offer. They have to catch a flight back to Ohio tonight. They’re about fifteen minutes out. You wouldn’t happen to have a beer, would you?”

He sounded upbeat. Sage really wanted the cottage sold, and Scott had joked that getting it done while she was gone would be his wedding present to her.

But at the same time, an era was ending…

For Iris, as well.

“Two beers coming up,” she said, leaving Angel with him and Morgan on the beach as she traipsed across the sand back to her place an acre away.

Inside, she quickly picked two bottles of beer off the refrigerator shelf, grabbed her bag of cut-up veggies, too, because they were there and she saw them, and was out the door. She wanted Scott to have a chance to get at least a sip in before meeting with the people who were likely going to be taking over his sister’s home.

Joining the Ocean Breeze family.

Did they have a dog?

The thought hit as she saw Scott, still in dress pants, shirt and tie, sitting on the bottom porch step petting both dogs at once. His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Wanted to.

Did he keep things light with them, offer his affection in teasing ways, as he did with her and Sage and Leigh?

Or did they get more of his heart?

Stopping at the sudden longing to know, Iris watched him haul both dogs up onto his lap and hug them both at once.

And for a second there…as her heart melted…she was jealous.