Chapter Twenty-Five
Bryce
Bryce couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Emma.
He wanted to think she was only being kind, as she had always been in school, but her words seemed to ring with conviction.
He remembered now that Emma had always known how to make him feel seen, even when he’d been a punk kid begging for attention.
He used to think he was dumb, plain and simple. School had been such a struggle, a long, slow march through confusion and
frustration. But she was right. Since then, he had discovered he simply learned differently from other people.
Hearing Emma defend him with such surety made something deep inside him stir.
He wanted to kiss her again. The urge was strong enough to make him clench his fists. He couldn’t. Not here. And not again.
She had asked him not to and he wouldn’t go against her wishes.
Instead, he looked out at the glittering water and shifted the conversation away from himself. “What about you. I know you
dropped Olive’s father before she was born. Sounds like a smart move.”
“The best thing I ever did.”
“Has there been anyone else since then?”
“I don’t have time for that right now.” She gestured to her adorable kid, who was giggling with her new friend while Pearl
and Dottie kept watch. “I have a preschooler who deserves all of my attention. She doesn’t need the chaos of men coming in
and out of our lives.”
He frowned. “So you don’t intend to date ever again?”
“I haven’t ruled it out completely. Maybe in a few years. It’s not my priority right now. I . . . have a lot to do first.”
“Like what?”
When she finally spoke, she met his gaze, hers fixed with a mixture of determination and nervousness.
“I want to work for Lucas Construction.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Doing what?”
“Whatever I can at first. Anything. But eventually I want to do what my mom does. Manage projects and help run the company.
Does that sound crazy?”
“No. Just surprising. I had no idea you were interested in construction.”
He should have realized, though. She had been intensely involved in the renovation of the bookstore, asking him questions
about everything he did and pitching in whenever she could. She was obviously interested in every aspect of the project. He
thought it was because she wanted to make sure the renovation went well. Now he could see the process interested her as much
as the finished project.
“I have always loved it. I used to love going out on jobsites with my dad. There was something magical in seeing something
go from an idea on paper to an actual building where people could live, work, play. He used to talk about the day when I could
join him at the company. My dad never cared that he didn’t have a son. He wanted me to be a partner.”
“Have you told your mom what you want?”
She shook her head. “I feel like I need to prove myself at the bookstore first.”
“Is that really necessary? She’s your mom. She wants the best for you. If you would rather be working at the construction company than the bookstore, I’m sure she can figure something out.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I shouldn’t have told you. Please don’t tell her what I said.”
“I don’t get it. Why not? I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you take an interest in the family company.”
“Things between my mom and me are . . . complicated. You know that.”
“I know that your mother blames herself for the years you were gone. She thinks if she had been a better mom to you after
your dad died, you wouldn’t have felt the need to run away.”
She inhaled sharply. “That’s not true. Not true at all. She doesn’t really believe that.”
He didn’t answer, though he had heard Rosie say those very words. He didn’t think she had meant for him to overhear but she
had been talking to Sylvia one day in the bookshop when he had been there. His ears inevitably perked up when Emma’s name
had been mentioned.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been quick to share what he overheard with the woman in question.
“It was never my mom’s fault I left. Never. She did nothing wrong. I’m the one to blame. I made stupid, stupid decisions and
screwed up my whole life.”
“Not your whole life,” he said, inclining his head toward Olive.
Her features softened, as they always did when she saw her daughter. “Not everything,” she agreed.
As if she knew they had been talking about her, Olive ran over to them and plopped onto the blanket. Her new friend had returned
to her own family, he saw, and they were packing up their things to leave the beach.
As Olive hugged her mother, Bryce watched the two of them and felt something hard lodge in his chest, an awareness he could no longer escape.
He was in love with Emma Lucas.
It wasn’t a big surprise to him, since he’d loved her in some form or other since they were kids.
Even as he acknowledged this to himself, Bryce felt a pang of sadness. Emma had made it clear she wasn’t interested in a relationship
with him or anyone else and he knew he had to respect her wishes.
Still, he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be part of their little family, to wake up each morning beside
Emma, to help her raise Olive.
The longing was almost painful. But Bryce knew he would rather have Emma in his life as a friend than not at all. He would
cherish these moments, these glimpses of what could be, even if they never became reality.
“Mama, I’m hungry. Can we have lunch now?”
Bryce knew that was his signal to grab Pearl and head back to town.
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want his time with Olive and Emma to end.
Her daughter was right. The beach was magical. He wanted to stay here, just the three of them, and enjoy the sunshine, the
sound of the waves, and the tingle in his veins he got whenever he was around Emma Lucas.
He rose, brushing sand off. “I hope you guys enjoy your lunch.”
“You should stay and have lunch with us,” Olive said, in what sounded more like an order than a suggestion.
“That’s very kind of you, sweetheart, but you and your mom didn’t know you were going to be bumping into me when you packed your lunches today. You probably didn’t bring along enough lunch for all three of us.”
“I actually did,” Emma said, looking embarrassed. “I made an extra sandwich in case one fell in the sand or something. I’ve
learned with Olive it’s better to have a contingency plan, especially when it comes to food. It’s not much, only ham and cheese
sandwiches, but we do have pasta salad and cookies we picked up at the bakery in town.”
“How can I say no to cookies?” he said, then settled back down on the blanket to rejoin them.
Years from now, Bryce knew he would look back on this day as one of the most enjoyable of his life.
The day was gorgeous, the setting serene. A few other people came and went from the beach as they enjoyed their lunch but
for the most part they had it to themselves except for the occasional seabird that toddled along the water’s edge.
Olive was adorable, full of sass and funny observations about the world. She had stolen his heart the first time he met her
in the bookshop and she seemed destined to leave a permanent imprint there, along with her mother.
What was he going to do about this love he could no longer deny?
Emma had made it abundantly clear she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and he certainly did not want to be the guy who
couldn’t take a hint, especially when it had been delivered to him in unmistakable terms.
Despite her words, he knew something simmered between them, even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it.
She seemed as aware of him as he was of her.
He saw it in the faint color that sometimes brushed her cheekbones when she looked at him, in the way her fingers trembled if they inadvertently touched, in the way she would catch his gaze and then look quickly away.
Was she remembering the kiss they had shared? Or was she determined to put it out of her head?
He had dreamed about having her in his arms again, about long, delicious days like this one, filled with laughter and conversation
and that sizzle of awareness under his skin.
After lunch, they packed up her blanket and the picnic supplies and decided to walk around the point to take advantage of
low tide and walk to Sea Glass Beach.
He took her backpack from her, much to her disgruntlement, and they made their way around the rocks to the beach.
As soon as they rounded the point, the beach came into view, stretched out like a glittering tapestry. Sunlight danced across
the colorful fragments, transforming the coastline into a kaleidoscope of blues, greens and the occasional flash of amber.
“It’s magic! Like mermaid jewels,” Olive exclaimed.
“It is,” her mother agreed.
“I know we can find some purple glass for Grandma here.”
“We might, but if we do, we can’t take it home,” Emma told her in an apologetic tone.
“Why not? Grandma said we’re supposed to take the sea glass off the beach if we find it.”
“See that sign?” Emma says. “It tells people not to remove the sea glass from this particular beach. If you find it on other
beaches, like the one by Grandma’s house, you can take all you want because it’s not a natural part of the shore. It’s only
there because of people throwing trash in the ocean. But here, all the different colors of sea glass are what makes it so
beautiful.”
“There’s a bazillion pieces of glass. I can take one, can’t I?”
“If everybody who came here took some of the sea glass away, soon there wouldn’t be any left for other people to enjoy,” Bryce
said.
She gave a pouty expression but seemed to understand.
“Let me take your picture,” Emma said, pulling out her phone.
Bryce reached for his phone as well to capture this memory, the two dogs cavorting above the high water line, where they couldn’t
hurt their paws on any jagged edges of glass, and these two people who had come to mean so much to him.
He knew he would treasure these memories forever.