Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
SARAH
“ I ’ll be back in just a little while.” I pat Petunia on the head, then scratch her under the chin before slipping my feet into flip-flops and pulling on a red windbreaker.
It’s chilly on the Oregon coast in the spring, but I still want to feel the sand under my feet as I walk.
It takes me less than a minute to walk down the steps by Tanner’s house to make it to the sand. Being near the water fills me with absolute joy as I slip out of the flip-flops and leave them at the bottom of the steps, then set off toward the surf.
The tide is way out, so I might find some shells or other little treasures that I can slip into my pocket and take home with me.
Clouds hang low, blocking the sunrise this morning, but overcast weather is nothing new here in Huckleberry Bay. And, although many people complain about the constant dreary weather, I love it.
I lived in California, in the sunshine, for far too long. I had no idea when I married Anthony and moved down there with him how much I would long for home. How much I’d miss my friends, my town.
My brother.
In the beginning of the relationship, Anthony made me believe that I could come visit any time that I wanted to. He was certainly wealthy enough that he could have made that a reality, but I learned right away that he never intended for me to come home, even to visit.
Anthony was a really good liar.
“He was too controlling to let me out of his sight long enough to come home to visit,” I say out loud, not worried in the least that someone might overhear me. There are only a handful of other people on the sand, a runner and a couple holding hands, but they’re far away, and the surf drowns out the sound of my voice.
It’s one of the reasons that I love walking down here so much. My whole life, the beach at Huckleberry Bay was my safe place. My therapist.
“Because I can say whatever the hell I want, and no one can hear me. And it feels good to get it out.”
When I was a kid, surviving my parents’ bullshit, this is where I came to yell and cry.
When Tanner broke up with me, I came here to scream at the water.
And the night before Anthony took me to California, this is where I came to say goodbye.
“I was a fool.” I lean down and pick up a rare shell that isn’t shattered to bits and tuck it into my pocket. “He swept me off my feet so fast because all I ever wanted was love. My parents didn’t even love themselves, much less each other; how could they love their kids? Then Tanner left me. I just wanted to belong to someone.”
I huff out a breath and stop walking just before the surf crashes around my ankles.
“And now, I belong to me , and that’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s what I should have been chasing all along, rather than approval and affection from someone else.”
I shake my head and let out a long, slow breath.
I need to go see my younger brother, Scott. He’s the biggest regret in my life. I wasn’t allowed to have any contact with him after getting married, and I wish I’d defied Anthony and maintained a relationship with Scott.
But, I didn’t. I was weak and did what I was told to do. I just wanted to fly under the radar, and keep the peace, because to do anything else made my life a living hell.
And because of that, Scott hates me.
“I have to try to have a relationship with him.” I wipe at a tear. “He’s my brother, and I have to try.”
Scott sought me out the night of the fire to make sure that I was okay, but since that night, we haven’t spoken. I’ve told myself that I’m giving him space, but in reality, I’m nothing but a chicken.
“It’s time to make things right.”
With that decided, I check the time. It’s not yet eight in the morning. I don’t know for sure what Scott’s working hours are as an EMT here in Huckleberry Bay, but I could find out by showing up to see if he’s home.
So, I walk back to the steps where my flip-flops wait and climb up to my new little house. God, I love it here, more than I ever thought I could love a place. I enjoyed my little apartment above Wolfe’s garage, but this is on a whole different level entirely.
The vibe of the space is calm and inviting, and it’s so quiet here, I’ve been able to paint like a woman possessed since I moved in just a few days ago.
It feels like home , and I don’t know if I’ve ever truly felt this way anywhere that I’ve lived. I certainly didn’t feel welcome in my parents’ house. My ex-husband made sure that I was never fully at ease when I was with him.
And the apartment, while comfortable and convenient, was above a busy garage, where it was noisy and bustling.
Finally, I have a place where I feel calm and utterly safe.
I pet Petunia and pour some food into her dish, and once I’ve rinsed my feet and dressed for the day, I walk the half-mile or so to Scott’s house. Shortly after I returned to Huckleberry Bay, June and Luna told me that Scott had bought his own home and was doing well for himself.
I’m so damn proud of him.
I turn the corner of Cherry Lane and feel the butterflies set in. The last time I came to visit him, before the fire, it didn’t go well at all. He said some hurtful things.
“It’s been a while since then,” I whisper to myself as I walk up to the porch. His truck is in the driveway, indicating that he’s home.
Hopefully, he’s alone.
I knock and step back, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, and wait.
Just when I think that he’s probably sleeping, and I should go, the door opens, and Scott frowns down at me in confusion.
“You okay, Sarah?”
“Oh, yeah.” I clear my throat. “I’m fine. I just wanted to stop by and see you because I was thinking about you this morning, and…well. I just wanted to see you.”
The last few words are a whisper, and he narrows his eyes, eyes that are so much like my own, and then steps back without a word, indicating that I should come in.
I don’t hesitate.
“Your home is so nice,” I say with a smile as I take it in. It’s small but well-kept and modern. “It’s a total bachelor pad.”
“I’m a bachelor,” he replies and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s wearing his firefighter T-shirt and jeans and looks so handsome in it. So grown up.
Because he is grown up.
“Did I catch you right before work?”
“No, I got home about half an hour ago,” he says. “I’ve been working nights. Listen, Sarah, I’m kind of tired.”
“I miss you.” I blurt the words out, stopping him. “I’ve always missed you, Scott, and I’m so, so sorry for everything.”
He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t soften.
“I told you before that I didn’t want to see you.”
“I know.” It comes out as another whisper, and I hate feeling this unsure, this uncomfortable . “I know you did. I just wanted five minutes to explain what happened.”
“You got married and left me here alone, a kid, to deal with getting Dad’s backhand on the regular. That’s what you did.”
I flinch as if he hit me because the words feel like a slap. “I know. Scott, that was never my intention. I had every intention of either taking you with me or sending money home for you. I thought that I’d be able to take care of you, but we weren’t in California for even a month, and Anthony laid down the law. He said that he was my only family, and I wasn’t allowed to even think about the life I left behind in Oregon. I begged him, but it was no use. It doesn’t change anything, but I want you to know that it wasn’t my freaking choice to abandon you.”
“June and Luna took care of me,” he says shortly, his voice laced with ice. “By the time I was in high school, Mom and Dad moved to Tulsa, and good riddance to them, and I got by. I did fine without you, and I still am. So, if you’re here because you feel obligated, you don’t need to be.”
“I know, and I’m so freaking proud of you.”
“No.” He shakes his head and looks like he wants to punch the wall. “ You don’t get to be proud of me because you didn’t do a fucking thing to contribute to what I’ve accomplished. Based on where I came from, I should be in jail or dead at this point, and I’m not. I’m a decent person, who does good things for this community.”
“I know you are. You were always a good person.”
“Turns out, I was the only one in the family.”
That stings, and I can’t hold back the wince.
His hard face doesn’t soften.
“You’re right.” I nod once. “You’re right, Scott. I should have tried harder, gone behind Anthony’s back, done whatever I had to do to make sure that you were safe. I failed you in that. I can’t change it, and I can be sorry for it down to the marrow of my bones, but it doesn’t make it any different; it still happened.”
“I don’t know what you want from me, Sarah.”
“I don’t want anything from you, nothing tangible, anyway. I’d like to get to know you again, and I’d like to be your friend.”
“I have a lot of friends already, but if anyone dies, and a slot opens up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
I can only blink at him, shocked. Did he really just say that? Scott doesn’t look me in the eye, and anger just pulses off of him. I want to hug him, but I absolutely know that any touch from me would not be welcome.
I have to go. I feel the tears threatening, and I have to get the hell out of here so he doesn’t see it.
So, I fake a smile and turn for the door. “Have a good day, Scott.”
I shut the door quietly behind me and hurry down to the sidewalk and turn toward town. The further away from Scott’s house I get, the faster I walk. This was a horrible idea.
I don’t know why I thought that I could simply apologize and everything would be okay. Just because he was worried after the fire doesn’t mean that he forgives me. It doesn’t mean that he wants us to have any kind of relationship.
I’m not going to reach out to him again. Not because I don’t want to, but because I just can’t keep hitting this emotional wall, over and over again. It’s painful.
I hope that one day, Scott will reach out and want to have me in his life. But he’s an adult, and that’s his decision.
I wipe away the tears on my cheeks and blow out a long breath.
“Enough of this. I have to go to work, and it’s going to be another long shift.” I walk right over to the diner and straight back to the break room where I stow my purse away in the orange locker with my name on it and loop a clean apron around my waist.
It’s time to set my personal stuff aside and get to work.
“Breakfast has been busy,” Angela, my coworker, says when I join her at the computer. “I have the right side of the room, so you take the left.”
“Got it.” I slip a fresh pad of order-taking paper into my pocket, along with a pen and a handful of straws. “Specials?”
“Banana bread French toast with bacon or a Denver omelet.”
“Yum. Maybe I’ll snag some of that French toast.”
“I have a plate of it over there,” Angela says, gesturing across the room. “Grab yourself a couple of bites. You’ll need the fuel.”
“Okay, thanks.” I’m surprised. Angela isn’t usually this nice to me. She’s always been distant and kind of pissy in the past. But, I don’t question it and set off to handle my tables. “Good morning. I’m Sarah, and I’ll be helping you out today. What can I get you to drink?”
“This fork is dirty, I’ve been waiting ten minutes for coffee, and I don’t think anyone wiped this table down before seating us here.”
I look into the eyes of an impatient woman who is sitting across from a clearly embarrassed man.
“I’ll replace the fork, I’m happy to pour you some coffee, and I’m sure the table was wiped down, but I’ll do it again. No problem. Would you like coffee, too?”
“Of course, he does,” she snaps, but I continue to look at the man.
“Coffee would be great,” he says with a polite smile.
“Coming right up. Would you like to order now or when I come back with your coffee?”
“Since we’ve been waiting so long, we’ll order now.” She rolls her eyes, as if I should have known that already. “I’ll have the Denver omelet with no onions, wheat toast, and the house potatoes.”
“Got it. And you?”
“Wait. You aren’t going to write it down?”
I blink at her. “You’re having a Denver omelet with no onions, wheat toast, and house potatoes.”
“ No shredded hashed browns,” she says emphatically. “I think you should write it down.”
I narrow my eyes. Am I being punked right now? “I promise you, I understand your order.”
“I’ll have,” the man begins, cutting off the comment the woman was about to give, “eggs benedict with hashed browns and an English muffin on the side.”
“Great choice.”
“You’re not going to write that down, either?”
“Nope, I’ll be back with your coffees.” With a super fake smile, I walk away, drop their menus in the basket by the hostess stand, and tap the computer to put in their order.
“She looks like a prize,” Angela says as she joins me. “That’s why I gave you that side of the room.”
“Awesome. It’s going to be one of those days,” I reply and blow a strand of my hair out of my eye.
“Good luck.” Angela pats my shoulder and hurries off to refill coffee mugs.
I love all my coworkers. Willow and Sunny are my favorites, but everyone here is awesome to work with. Even when the customers are difficult, Sunny and Willow are upbeat, happy, and we have fun together. Angela hasn’t been one of my faves, but she’s not horrible, either.
I love it here.
I hurry over and fill an entire carafe with coffee, and place it, along with the mugs, sweetener, and creamer, on a tray, and carry it over to Miss Difficult.
“I brought you your own pot of coffee,” I say brightly as I fill the mugs and set everything on the table. “Your orders shouldn’t take long.”
“If you got them wrong, we’ll send them back,” she warns me, and reaches for her mug. “There’s no Splenda in here.”
“I’ll grab you some.”
I walk away and find the yellow packets, then return to the table.
“Here you go.”
Before she can complain about anything else, I leave the table to greet new customers and get the rest of my day going. Things are moving fairly smoothly when the order comes up for Miss Difficult, and when I set her plate in front of her, she scowls.
“I knew you should have written it down.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Melissa,” the man warns, but she ignores him.
“I asked for no peppers.”
Now I grit my teeth. “No, ma’am, you asked for no onions. That’s what you got.”
“Well, I meant no peppers.” She pushes the plate away. “I can’t eat that.”
“Melissa, you don’t have a problem with peppers.” The man rolls his eyes. “She’s just mad today. Her meal is fine, thank you.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
I walk away and take a deep breath.
Looks like I’m not the only one having a bad day.
It’s been a long freaking day.
I’m bundled up in a hoodie and sweats, my feet bare, sitting on the back patio with Petunia, enjoying an extra-large glass of red wine after a difficult day at work. The clouds above are fluffy rather than dark and angry, and it’s pleasant out here.
Normally, I’d take this time to paint, but I needed to unwind first.
Shed all of the negative energy before I let it soak into my home.
Tanner drives up and pulls into his garage. Rather than going into his house, he walks over to us. He’s so impossibly handsome it makes my stomach jitter. His white button-down is unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves are rolled to his elbows.
What is it about rolled shirtsleeves that makes a girl want to purr?
“Hey there,” he says as he approaches. He takes in Petunia and grins. “You have your cat on a leash.”
I glance down at her pretty pink harness and matching leash and nod. “Yeah, she likes to be outside, but I don’t want her to run off.”
“Has she run off before?”
“I’ve never given her the chance,” I admit. “How was your day?”
“It was pretty good, actually. And yours?”
I pause and stare into my glass before lifting it to my lips and taking a sip. “It might have been the shittiest day I’ve had since coming home. Aside from the night my house burned down, of course.”
His eyebrows climb. “What happened?”
I pet Petunia, who’s content to sit in my lap. “Oh, you know. Difficult customers. No, actually, really fucking rude customers. One tried to get me fired today.”
“What? What the hell?”
“Yeah, well, Gordy laughed at her and told her not to come back. Tourist.” I shrug a shoulder. “The rest were just…rude. Maybe it’s the full moon or something.”
“That’s interesting, because Apollo mentioned that he had a rude client the other day, and I had a woman come into my gallery that same day and cause a scene. There must be something in the air.”
“Well, whatever it is, it can just blow right out of here. It’s mentally exhausting.”
“I agree. What can I do for you, Sarah?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets, the way I’ve noticed he does often. God, he’s handsome. Tall and lean, with muscles for days and tousled hair that just begs for my fingers.
I’ve missed him. Everything about him.
“I don’t think there’s anything to be done. Unless you can give all the tourists a stern talking to, that is.”
He smiles, and it lights up the patio.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He looks like he wants to say more, but he just sighs and starts to back away. “You have a good evening, Sarah.”
“Yeah, you too, Tanner.”
He walks into the house, and I lean down to kiss my cat.
“I love this house,” I say to her. “But I think I underestimated just how much it would hurt to be so close to Tanner, but yet, so far away.”
Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the feelings I have for him.