Chapter 7
I spotElaina on the trail below me, huffing and puffing in red overalls with her dark brown hair pulled up in pigtails, but don’t head down to give her a pep talk the way I usually would.
The stress of the day has left me feeling oddly depleted.
I can usually go and go, but today my get-up-and-go already got up and went.
So, I sit perched on the rock wall surrounding the lookout, staring out at the blue ocean under a cloudless autumn sky, while I wait for her to make it up the last fifty steps. Days like this are numbered. Soon, the skies will be gunmetal gray and the ocean faded to match.
Winters are always rough around here, but for some reason I’m dreading this one more than usual.
“Asthma,” Elaina wheezes as she mounts the final step. She braces her hands on her knees, bending double as she sucks wind. “I have asthma. You can get that in your twenties, right?”
“Or maybe you just need to do some cardiovascular exercise on a regular basis,” I say for possibly the hundredth time.
Elaina and I both played rugby in high school, but since graduation, Elaina has focused mostly on petting cats and baking cakes. Meanwhile, I spend my days hauling lobster traps onto our boat and my evenings jogging or lifting weights at the rec center. Being strong isn’t just important for longevity in my job, it’s a bit of an obsession.
I’ve watched my father go downhill physically with disturbing speed, the strong dad from my childhood transforming into a stooped man with a paunch who winces as he hobbles down the street. His body is a prison, trapping him in a life he hates but can’t escape.
I don’t ever want to live like that. I’d throw myself off the boat first.
“No. Asthma,” Elaina continues to pant. “I clearly have asthma. And when I get a diagnosis, you’re going to feel so bad for bullying me and making me hike instead of meeting me in my nice warm café.”
“You look warm enough to me,” I tease, laughing when she sticks her tongue out at me from the middle of her flushed face.
“The cats are mad, too,” she says, hands on her hips as she sways toward me, gradually pulling in deeper breaths. “They were looking forward to a visit from Aunt Gert-Gert.”
“I couldn’t risk another run-in with the Tripps,” I say. “Not until I figure out what I’m going to do.”
She blinks, her expression sobering as she sits beside me on the rock wall, swinging her legs over to dangle beside mine. “I’m so sorry, Gertie. I shouldn’t have told Mark you were leaving out the back. I thought he was looking for you to apologize for whatever happened between you two. I had no idea he’d do…whatever he did.” She leans in, her brow furrowed. “What did he do, by the way? When he came in for coffee, all he said was ‘your friend is crazy and kicked me in the nuts.’ And that he wanted three scones to go.”
I huff beneath my breath, annoyed, but not surprised. “He’s such an asshole. I can’t believe I made out with him for months. He’s so gross.”
“He’s not gross,” Elaina says. “Not physically anyway. He’s cute. But if he did something bad enough to get kicked in the nuts, I’ll never sell him a scone again.” She bites her lip. “I did give him three today because I baked way too many and needed to unload some, but never again. Just say the word and he’s banned for life.”
It’s tempting, but after a beat, I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. He wasn’t himself this morning. His dad just died. I’ll give him a pass this time.”
“A pass for what?” she presses again.
I briefly explain, leaving out the part about Weaver swooping in to glare daggers in Mark’s face.
When I’m finished, Elaina’s dark eyes are narrowed in anger. “Fuck that guy,” she spits, like one of the cats after they get hit with the spray bottle for fighting. “No more scones for him. No coffee, either. Not even a mug of herbal tea without an ounce of caffeine in it. No one lays hands on my bestie and gets away with it.”
“He didn’t get away with it,” I remind her. “I kicked him in the balls and he said he wouldn’t mess with me again. It’s fine.”
He didn’t exactly say that, but I feel confident that Mark got the message, and I don’t want to start a town feud between his people and mine. Or more of a feud, anyway. My people are of higher quality, but Mark has numbers on his side. The other Tripps and Tripp minions might like me better, but he’s the one with power and influence in Sea Breeze.
And that power might be growing very soon…
He isn’t the oldest or most experienced fisherman in the Tripp crew, but he’s Rodger’s son. I can’t imagine his dad passing the torch to anyone else. Weaver may have gotten the yacht, but Mark will get control of the fleet and everything else.
“But that’s not what I need to talk to you about,” I add, still not sure if Elaina is the best person to trust with this information, but I don’t have anyone else.
Maya is a sweetheart, but she hates drama and has even less experience with men than I do. And she’s out of town with her mom, doing some remodeling shopping for their vacation rentals, and won’t be back for a week. Sydney would be a great source for advice—she has experience with older men—but she’s in the middle of moving to Burlington, Vermont, and shifting the entire course of her life.
She’s…a little busy.
Besides, Elaina can keep a secret, as long as she understands from the jump that I’m serious about this staying just between us. “I need you to pinkie swear you won’t say a thing about this to anyone else, okay? Not a word. Not even to Sydney or Maya. I want to keep this quiet.”
“Okay.” Elaina nods seriously, searching my face. “You can trust me, Gertie. I hope you know that. I love gossip, but I love you more. Your secrets are always safe with me.”
“I know.” I squeeze her leg through her overalls, so grateful for her. I never would have made it through my mom leaving or my dad falling apart without Elaina.
She’s always been there for me. Even when we were kids.
“So, who were you with last night?” she asks. “If it wasn’t Mark? I didn’t realize you were interested in anyone else.”
I sigh, threading my fingers together into a fist, dreading this part. “I wasn’t. I’m not.”
Liar, the inner voice hisses, you totally wanted to take Weaver up on his breakfast offer and stare into his sexy silver eyes over scones and a fruit plate.
I clear my throat, screwing my courage to the sticking point before I blurt out the entire story—from the stupid text I sent Mark to tracking his phone to the Tripp yacht to ending up in bed with his sexy beast of an uncle.
By the time I’m done, Elaina’s jaw is practically dragging the ground.
I tap the bottom of her chin, laughing despite the stress of the day. “You’re going to swallow a bug.”
She exhales another wheezing sound before swallowing with an audible gulp. “Oh my God, Gertie.”
“I know,” I say.
“Oh my God.”
I nod. “Yep.”
“God.”
I widen my eyes her way. “Yes. I know. It’s crazy. But you haven’t heard the worst part yet.”
Her lashes flutter as she clearly makes an effort to work through her shock. “Worst part? So far, it sounds pretty fucking amazing, Gert. Like, a little scary that you went out there alone, but so hot. And that man is unbelievably gorgeous.” She blushes and hunches her shoulders closer to her ears. “I might have flirted with him a little after you left. But I obviously had no idea you two were a thing, and I will never flirt with him again.”
“We’re not a thing.”
She arches a brow. “No? Sounds like you’re a thing. He stood up for you against his own nephew and asked you to breakfast.”
“But last night he acted like he wanted to keep banging me in secret,” I remind her.
She waves a breezy hand. “That was last night, before he realized how obsessed he is with you.”
I roll my eyes. “He isn’t obsessed.” My stomach sours as I force myself to get to the big reveal. “He’s probably grossed out. Or he will be soon. As soon as he realizes who I am.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“We didn’t exchange full names last night. I guessed he was one of the older Tripp relatives, but he looks way younger than he is. I had no clue he was Weaver Tripp, and he doesn’t know I’m a Sullivan.”
Elaina’s features tighten. “I’m still not following. I mean, I know there’s tension between your families, but I personally don’t think that’s a deal-breaker. Especially now that Rodger Tripp is out of the picture. It might be time to put all the bad blood in the past. Not all the Tripps are dicks, you know?”
I sigh. “Yeah, I know, it’s not about that.” Acid rises in my throat. “I thought you knew. About Weaver. About who he is and…what he did. But it makes sense that you don’t. We were just kids. You weren’t a gossip hound at eight.”
Her frown deepens. “Sure, I was. I was just gossiping about third-grader shit like who had the coolest scented pencils and Maryanne Nicholson’s boy-girl party in her garage and why I wasn’t invited.” She brushes my hair over my shoulder, her hand lingering gently on my back. “What did this guy do, Gertie? I’ve never seen you this pale. You’re scaring me a little. Please don’t have a heart attack up here, okay? I’m not in good enough shape to carry you down the hill.”
My lips twist, but I can’t force a smile. I can barely push out, “The night my dad caught my mom out at that bar with another man. The night of his accident…” I suck in another breath that doesn’t feel like it delivers oxygen to my brain. “That guy was Weaver Tripp.”
Elaina’s jaw drops again and her hand moves to hover over her open mouth. “Holy…”
I nod and swallow past the golf ball lodged in my throat. “Yeah.”
“Shit,” Elaina finally murmurs. “So were they…”
I shrug, every muscle in my body feeling too tight. “I don’t know. But I mean, probably. Right? She was in her early thirties, and he was like…twenty-something or whatever. I doubt he would have been interested in an older woman with a kid for any other reason.”
“Oh, wow,” Elaina says, looking sick to her stomach.
“Do you think I’m gross?”
Her brows snap together. “Of course not! Oh my God, no, it’s just the situation is kind of…”
“Gross,” I supply.
She winces. “Well, yes. A little.” She hurries to add, “But that isn’t your fault. Or his! You guys had no idea. And that was a long time ago. You were eight so like…sixteen years? That’s a good chunk of time.”
“It doesn’t matter. Having sex with someone my mother also had sex with is never okay. Never.” I drop my head into my hands, muttering beneath my breath, “And I’ll never be able to forget him. No matter how hard I try.”
Elaina makes a sympathetic sound. “It was that good? I mean, I’m not surprised. He looked like he’d be good. Some people just have that air about them. That ‘I know what to do with my body when I’m naked’ kind of energy, you know?”
“It’s not just that,” I say, keeping my elbows braced on my knees and my head in my hands as I confess the secret I’ve kept from my best friend, “It was my first time.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “First time with a full-grown man?”
“No.”
“First time on a boat?”
I lift my head, glancing her way, my cheeks hot with shame. “No, my first time ever. With anyone, anywhere.”
The furrow between her brows deepens. “What? That can’t be right. I know you and Keith never got around to it since he was scared of STDs or whatever, even though you were both virgins.” She rolls her eyes. “Such a weird guy. But what about Felix at rugby camp, junior year?”
“We only made it to third base.”
Her chin rocks back. “What? No, you guys snuck into the equipment room after hours. You even borrowed a condom from my stash. Remember?”
“I remember, but…I lied.”
“What?” she squeaks. “Why?”
“My best friend had fully embraced her sexuality and was having an amazing time getting naked with boys, and I was still a virgin, who’d only kissed three people. I was embarrassed. I felt like I was falling behind on the whole growing up thing.”
Her gaze softens on mine. “Sexuality is so personal, Gertie. There was no need to feel rushed or embarrassed. I wouldn’t have judged you for taking things at your own pace.”
“I know that now,” I say. “But at seventeen, I didn’t. So, I lied and I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I get it.” Her head tilts thoughtfully to one side as she studies my face. “Are you sure you felt ready last night? Did Weaver steamroll you because he’s older and wasn’t thinking about his lady friend possibly being inexperienced?”
I huff. “Um, no. He didn’t pressure me. I’ve been ready for more than making out for a long time. It’s just this town. You know how it is. I work with half the guys my age and the other half are assholes or relatives.” I lift a shoulder before adding in a softer voice, “And I told him. Before we… I told him I was a virgin.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh. Wow. Well, that’s good. Great, actually. Communication is key to a good relationship.”
“It’s not a relationship. It was a one-night stand.”
She arches a brow. “Mr. Sexy’s guest appearance in your life this morning would say otherwise. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. Communication is still key, even if a relationship only lasts twenty-four hours.” She leans into me, nudging my shoulder with her smaller, sharper one. “But I think you should consider seeing him again while he’s in town. Men who are great in bed are hard to find. And I’m sure you didn’t learn all the fun things he has to teach you in one night.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Elaina. Sex isn’t that hard. I’ve watched porn. I knew what went where way before last night.”
“Sex is about so much more than that,” she says calmly. “And you know it. And that’s why you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I say with a tight laugh. “I’m disgusted. He slept with my mother before he slept with me. It’s so gross, I want to vomit every time I think about it.”
“Like I said, that was a long time ago,” she says without missing a beat. “And the human body replaces all its cells every seven years. So, he’s literally a different person than he was when he was with your mom. At a cellular level.”
I shoot an “are you fucking kidding me?” look her way.
She shrugs. “It’s true. And he might not have slept with your mom. That’s purely speculation at this point. We need more data before you can make an informed decision.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m not, I’m logical.”
“And how am I supposed to find out what happened with my mom?” I ask. “Call her up at that number she hasn’t given me? Track her down in New York with her new husband?”
Elaina’s nose wrinkles. “Ew, of course, not. Fuck her, she’s the worst. And we couldn’t trust anything she said anyway. Mothers who abandon their children can’t be trusted.” She bobs a shoulder. “But maybe Weaver can be. It would at least be interesting to get his perspective on everything that went down back in the day.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. I’m not asking him about any of that.”
“Why not? You’ve already been naked with him. Might as well bare a little of your soul, too. We can figure out a way to phrase things so they’re as chill as possible.” Her hand settles on my forearm, giving it a squeeze. “And this might be a blessing in disguise, Gertie. We were so young, and all the grown-ups did their best to sweep the scandal under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen. Wouldn’t it be nice to know what really went down? I mean, it was a major event for you. It changed your whole life.”
I’m quiet for a moment, thinking about the girl I was before Weaver Tripp got caught making out with my mother and how radically everything fell apart afterward. I suppose I should be angry with Weaver, but…I’m not. After all, he hadn’t made anyone any promises.
My mom and dad are the ones who swore to love each other for better or for worse. They’re the ones who made the decision to bring a child into the world together. Weaver was just a kid home from college, and probably younger than I am now. His frontal lobe wasn’t even fully developed and there’s a chance he didn’t know my mom was married. I doubt she wore her wedding ring out to the bars when she was looking for a good time.
“It would at least be interesting to hear his side of the story,” Elaina prods after a moment.
I bite my lip, anxiety making my skin crawl.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” she asks. “He says he doesn’t want to talk about it? So what? Then you just thank him for the orgasms and walk away.” She frowns before squeezing my arm again. “You did get orgasms, right? At least one?”
I nod numbly. “Two. And they were way better than my rabbit. Or my fancy Christmas vibrator.”
Elaina sighs, her hand slipping from my arm. “Lucky girl. My lady parts are so lonely. I think I felt a tumbleweed blow through my vagina last night. No adult human should be expected to go without sex for this long.”
My lips curve. “What’s it been? Two months?”
“Three,” she says, doubling down when I laugh. “That’s a long time! And there’s no end to the dry spell in sight. I’ve already banged all the decently cute and clever men around here, and I don’t have time to drive into the city. I have a café to run. Scones don’t make themselves, and I can’t stay out until midnight and get up to bake at five a.m. I’m horny, but I’m also human. I need more than five hours of sleep to function.”
“I’m sure you’ll find another victim soon,” I assure her.
Her lips purse. “They’re not victims. They’re failed experiments. It’s not my fault none of the boys around here can handle a successful woman with a high sex drive. And I tell them I’m not looking for anything serious until I’m at least thirty. It’s not my fault they choose not to believe me. When people tell you who they are, you really should listen.”
Her words give me pause…
Weaver told me who he was last night. He made it perfectly clear that he was a man out for pleasure and nothing more. He was very honest with me about that. So, maybe he’d be honest with me about the past, too…
I guess there’s only one way to find out.
Pulling in a deep breath, I let it out in a rush. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll ask him.” Elaina claps her hands and starts to squeal, but I stop her with a hand in the air. “But not right now. I’m sure he’s busy. He has the visitation tonight and the funeral tomorrow morning. If he hasn’t run back to wherever he came from by tomorrow afternoon, then I’ll make a trip out to the yacht.”
Elaina nods. “That sounds smart. He’ll definitely be in the mood to fuck all night by then. Funerals are inspirational that way. I always leave wanting to prove that I’m still alive and making the most of my one, precious life.”
I frown. “Really? I just leave feeling sad.”
“That’s because you’ve only been to the funerals of people you truly loved. I don’t think Weaver loved his brother, do you?”
I shake my head, feeling a little sad for him. But it’s not his fault. The Tripp family has more than its fair share of bad eggs, and Rodger was the worst of the batch. “I doubt he even liked him,” I say. “No one else did. Not even Mark. He was scared of him and maybe wanted to be like him a little bit, when it came to the money and power, but he didn’t like his dad.”
We have that in common, I add silently to myself.
I love my dad—I can’t seem to help it, no matter how much he’s hurt me or let me down—but I don’t like him very much.
Which reminds me…
“I have to head back to town,” I say, my bones feeling heavier now that I’ve remembered the task ahead. I can’t believe I forgot today was the third Saturday of the month, but then…I’ve been a little busy. “I have to run groceries by my dad’s place and grab his trash to add to ours before Gramps makes the dump run tomorrow.”
Elaina puts her arm around my shoulders. “You’re a good daughter. And a good friend. Don’t feel bad about lying about Felix, okay? Seriously, I get it. I lied about my first time, too. It wasn’t actually good. Not at all, really. It hurt, and I ended up with a bruised ovary.”
“Wow,” I say. “How does that happen?”
“Teddy had a giant schlong and no idea what to do with it. Two virgins hopping into bed together was a bad idea. You made a much smarter choice.”
I don’t know about that, but there’s no going back now.
There’s only forward and what I’m guessing is going to be a very uncomfortable conversation with the only man who’s ever seen me naked.