3. Kate | Ten Minutes Earlier
Gravel crunches under the NSTI van tires as I pull into a parking spot at the far edge of the lot and cut the engine. I let my forehead drop to rest on the steering wheel as my eyes fall shut. I take a deep breath, grateful to have made it to The Cove safe and sound. This giant of a vehicle, more than twice the size of my ancient Toyota, has taken every ounce of concentration to maneuver on the road today. And especially the last hour or so, thanks to the precipitation.
But I’m here now. The destination I set the GPS to before I even turned the key in the ignition this morning in Miami. Because The Cove is where Aunt Donna is, and if there’s one person who deserves to know I’m in town before she hears it through the grapevine, it’s the woman who helped raise me after my momma died.
But there are more cars in the lot than I thought there’d be. Especially for a Tuesday in June with a tropical storm on the way. I’d consider waiting for the crowd to thin out before I head in, but I have to pee. Surely, I can slip in, say hello, explain why I’m here, use the restroom, and then duck out.
And even though the chances of someone I know being inside are a statistical probability in a town the size of Love Beach, the likelihood my ex is at The Cove tonight is miniscule. Practically zilch. So, with a sigh, I square my shoulders and climb out, stretching my legs and rolling my neck, glad I changed out of my office attire and into a pair of jean shorts and a T-shirt along with my sneakers before I hit the road.
I duck into the busy restaurant, pulling the door closed against the wind. A shiver runs through me from the blast of air conditioning. I wish I’d grabbed my sweatshirt from my duffel bag. Goosebumps spread up my arms, and I rub them with both hands as I take in the scene.
The Cove is different than I remember, but I suppose that’s to be expected after staying away as long as I have. It still smells like hot sauce and beer, and the big screens are still too bright, their glow illuminating the dim sports bar.
A server I don’t recognize, carrying a tray loaded with plates of steaming food, passes and, with a harried smile, invites me to seat myself. But rather than search for an empty table, I spin toward the bar. Sure enough, Aunt Donna is there, her gaze fixed on me as if she’s seen a ghost.
I smile and raise a hand in greeting as I take a step in her direction, but the shock in her wide eyes and the way they flit back to a tall man with broad shoulders standing with his back to me makes my steps falter.
My chest squeezes with a dreadful premonition. But I’m unsure why. The man at the bar isn’t Aiden. The hair is shades lighter and cut too short. And this guy is taller than Aiden by a good few inches. Plus, this stranger is built like a freight train, with a black T-shirt and jeans hugging muscles the guy I loved didn’t have.
But before I process why Aunt Donna might be anything other than confused, or maybe excited to see me, the man turns. My heart, which was already racing a million beats per minute, jumps straight to my jugular and squeezes. Tight.
Because rich brown eyes I once knew better than my own pin me with a look that shoots straight to my soul. One that erases time and distance and the heartbreak between us, then spreads like wildfire, sending every nerve ending in my body tingling.
Until, in a flash, the look is gone, replaced by a controlled expression as Aiden’s face transforms and a muscle in his jaw works. And the AC is no longer the cause of the ice in my veins.
But before I can process my shock, Aunt Donna swings around the edge of the bar and sweeps me up into a hug so tight it sends every thought and the hundreds of questions in my brain flying. I haven’t had arms wrapped around me this tight in years. Eight at least.
And the pure love radiating through the embrace feels like forgiveness for leaving and never visiting. And also, like the welcome back I didn’t dare hope for. I choke up, tears pricking at the back of my eyes as I squeeze them shut and melt against her.
“Kate,” she murmurs against my hair, her hand rubbing my back. “It’s so good to see you, darlin’.”
“You, too,” I reply with a sniffle as I draw back and get my first good look at her. There are whispers of gray at the edges of her hairline and wrinkles around her eyes that weren’t there before, but in all the ways that count, she’s exactly the same. Especially when, with a glimmer in her eyes, she pulls away and motions toward Aiden. I swallow hard.
“You remember Aiden, right?”
As if I could ever forget the first…and only guy I’ve ever loved.
“Hi,” I say, lifting my gaze to his. Because what else is there to say in a moment like this, when the last thing I expected in the first five seconds after arriving in town was to come face to face with the boy, er…make that man, who used to love me?
“Kate,” he breathes, my name a tortured sound pouring from his lips. As if he’s the one who’s lived with regret all these years.
But he isn’t. He’s the one who insisted I leave when, if he’d only have asked, I would have stayed at his side in Love Beach forever.
The hand hanging by his thigh twitches and raises ever so slightly, as if to reach for me. But then it drops, and the fingers curl into a tight fist. Aunt Donna releases me, and after a hesitant beat facing each other, Aiden and I each take a step forward, as if a magnetic pull we can’t resist tugs us toward each other.
For a second, we stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do or say. Then, as if with a shared sense there should be more of a greeting for the person we both once believed would be our forever, we reach for each other. Chemistry was never our problem. We had it in spades from the first day we met on the boardwalk on a scorching July day. But now the embrace is stiff and clumsy. It’s tense rather than easy, and somehow, it’s the same but also completely different. After a split second, as if shocked by a current of electricity, we wrench apart.
“I should go,” Aiden says, his voice strained as he tips his head toward the corner.
“Of course,” Aunt Donna replies, bustling over to the bar to place a full pitcher of beer and a tumbler of whiskey on ice onto a tray. “Here you go. Got it?”
Aiden accepts the tray and holds my gaze for a beat too long before he looks down. “It’s…good to see you.”
“You, too,” I reply automatically, glancing at the crowd in the corner where he’s headed. Aiden’s brothers, Blake and Jesse, and a few friends from high school I recognize, are gaping at us. But there’s no woman eyeing me with so much as a hint of jealousy.
As he walks away, I flick a glance to his left hand carrying the tray. No ring. The notion he might still be single does odd things to my stomach. But rather than dwell on that fact, I drag my attention back to Aunt Donna, grasping her hands in both of mine and sucking in a deep breath.
“You okay?” she asks, those observant gray eyes sliding over me.
“Yeah.” I shake off the dizziness making my head spin. “Fine.”
She holds my gaze, her lips pressing together. “You sure?”
I dismiss her concern with a lift of my shoulder. “Aiden and I are old news, ancient history. He’s certainly, um, grown up since I left. I mean, I barely recognized him with that haircut and those muscles, but it’s… We… We were over a long time ago.”