4. Chapter 4 – Zach
I avoided Rae, still grappling with my hurt feelings and anger. With the awareness that she was no longer off-limits. No longer my friend’s girlfriend.
She was hard to dodge when we lived aboard boats berthed next to each other, but I gave it a valiant effort. Choosing to be at Harbor Brews every waking moment was easy enough when I owned the place and had the keys. The shop had never been so spotless.
I called Simon in the wake of Rae’s news. The coward didn’t pick up the phone.
Every thoughtless comment came back to haunt me.
Maybe he had reason not to tell me. Then.
But I’d grown a lot. Holding Rae hostage so long in their relationship pissed me off.
He knew what her family was like. How they took advantage of her.
For him to do the same filled me with a rage that all the scrubbing in the world couldn’t stamp out.
And then there was the hurt. Alone, I could name it.
She hadn’t told me. Trusted me. That knowledge burned more than Simon’s betrayal.
Simon hadn’t been here, making it a little easier to let him off the hook for not feeling like he could tell me.
But Rae knew how much I’d changed over the years.
She knew I could be trusted to keep my mouth shut.
It wasn’t her secret to tell, but the fact that they’d conspired to keep this from me burned .
Them not telling me the truth was yet another rejection.
And it left Rae to shoulder the load of their farce alone.
Lie to me. Lie to the whole town. Simon had been in an impossible situation, but I couldn’t help but be angry that he’d burdened Rae, keeping her from living her life while he pursued his dreams.
I rubbed at my sternum, trying to ease the burning sensation there. Too much damn coffee. No one told you how much heartburn hurt. I snorted. Or they did, and I just didn’t listen. Apparently, I was thick when it came down to it.
Did I suspect that all wasn’t right with Simon and Rae? I knew. Their relationship looked like nothing I could imagine. In no universe would I leave Rae alone for years, flying her out only once or twice a year to visit and never coming home myself. It was unthinkable.
Part of me hadn’t wanted to probe too much.
They were friends. Rae was off-limits. Thinking of them beyond that was poking at a wound that just wouldn’t heal, no matter how desperately I wanted it to.
I’d tried everything: other women. Celibacy.
Work. Nothing eased the ache until I settled into friendship, accepting that I wanted Rae in my life any way I could have her.
A platonic relationship with Rae was better than sex with someone else.
Flirting was a lovely distraction and helped me keep up appearances. But these days, if Nauti by Nature was rocking… it was stormy out.
It took me almost two weeks to admit that I missed her.
My self-imposed exile to get my feelings under control had to end. I’d committed to helping her with Jia’s kids for the summer, and I wouldn’t let Rae down. Not like Simon did.
Zach: What time shall we head to Jia’s Monday?
Rae: You’re still coming ?
Zach: Wouldn’t miss it.
Rae: Thanks, Zach. Let’s leave at five.
Tossing my phone aside, I stripped out of my clothes, stepping into the shower to clean up. My sailboat’s shower was miniscule, leaving me eager for a few months in a house with a real bathroom. A real bed. And Rae.
I swallowed, visions of her rolling in white sheets, hair tumbled around her shoulders, yielding a predictable response. Handling the situation left me wrung out but calmer. Living with Rae, even temporarily, was going to take all my willpower.
She might be free, but that didn’t make her interested.
Monday night I waited on the dock beside Sailor Swift , black duffel at my feet. Rae hopped easily over the side of her boat, a backpack slung across one shoulder.
I’d never met someone so at home in their own skin, so effortlessly cool.
Her curly mop of brown hair was usually tied back from her face, revealing her intelligent brown eyes.
She had a strong, athletic figure that she sheathed in coveralls for workdays spent on and around boat engines.
She wore the occasional grease streak like a badge of honor, and I couldn’t fault her.
She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.
Wasn’t afraid to dive into danger or the inner workings of marine electrical systems. She managed to project a fearlessness that challenged me to match her.
Just being around Rae made me stronger. Somehow, her confidence calmed my nerves, reinforcing my own belief that, together, we could tackle whatever challenge came our way: a complicated rescue, a ghost in my sailboat’s navigation system, or a few weeks parenting her cousin’s kids.
Tonight, she looked softer. Maybe it was the jeans that hugged her hips, or the sleeveless top that showed off her biceps.
She was sleek and sexy. One tempestuous curl refused to be tamed, caressing her cheek, sprung free of her messy topknot.
She bit her bottom lip, the contrast between her white teeth and pink mouth only serving to remind me how much had changed.
For the first time, I let myself notice the swell of her breasts.
The arch of her neck. The height that made her more than a match for me.
“Ready?”
She asked it almost cautiously, as if still unsure how I’d react to seeing her again after her last bombshell. I met her gaze, face calm.
“Ready, Captain.”
Her shoulders relaxed at my use of her nickname. I drove us out to Jia’s house on the outskirts of town. Rae picked at the hole in her jeans, seeming preoccupied.
“You nervous?” I asked.
Her gaze met mine. “About what?”
“Watching the kids, of course.”
“For sure.”
I reached for her hand, tangling my fingers with hers.
She squeezed back—only for a moment, but her bid for comfort made me say, “You’re going to be great.
” And I meant it. Rae had a quiet competence that immediately put those around her at ease.
If Rae said she’d do it, it was good as done.
Watching Hana and Tae would be no different.
Jia and the kids came into Harbor Brews often enough that I knew Hana liked whipped cream on her hot cocoa and Tae preferred herbal tea.
But I hadn’t spent any extended time with them.
They struck me as sweet, quiet children.
Which meant they were probably hellions at home.
Once upon a time, Drew, Cole, Vi, and I had people fooled too.
Jia and the kids spilled from the house as I parked next to Jia’s Subaru.
Jia Dawkins looked sturdy and capable, just what you wanted in your Coast Guard.
Little Hana’s hair was pulled back in lop-sided pigtails.
She was dressed head-to-toe in pink. Tae’s bowl cut shadowed serious dark eyes, his shorts and tee-shirt neat and tidy in a way I found unnatural for a ten-year-old.
Jia hugged Rae before extending a hand to me. “Thank you,” she said, her expression sincere. “I really appreciate you stepping in to help with the kids.”
“Happy to.”
And I truly was. Jia had been through a difficult few months. First her husband’s accident, then her mother’s surgery. With the rest of her family taking care of her mother, Rae was the next logical choice to act as the kids’ guardian while she was away. I was just bonus help.
Hana peered at me shyly from behind Rae’s thigh. Tae shook my hand, expression serious. Already the man of the house. My heart ached for him, the responsibility too much for his frail shoulders.
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of a house tour and greeting the kids.
There were four bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs.
Each kid had their own room. My room was the designated guestroom, but judging from the luggage and boxes crammed in the closet, it also served as family storage.
Rae took over Jordan and Jia’s bedroom. This arrangement left the kids’ rooms in between us.
Everything was clean and comfortably worn, the hall and guestroom painted in muted tones while the kids’ rooms were splashed with bright color.
Scrapes and dents in the walls and baseboards told the story of a house that children lived in.
It made me think fondly of the family farmhouse and the constant chaos of living with three siblings, my parents, and my grandmother.
It wasn’t always pretty, but it was home.
Watching Jia say goodbye to her children nearly broke my heart.
Tae hugged her stoically, chin firm. Hana blubbered, soaking her mom’s jeans in minutes.
Rae pried her away and into a hug so Jia could slip behind the wheel of her car.
The wet stain on Jia’s pants would dry long before we could console young Hana.
Jia’s eyes welled with tears, but it was clear she was trying to be strong. Hana cried in Rae’s arms, Tae and I waving until Jia’s car was long out of sight.
“This calls for ice cream for dinner.”
Hana pulled her tear-stained face from Rae’s chest, her eyes round.
“Ice cream isn’t a healthy dinner,” Tae said solemnly.
“Nope. That’s what makes it fun.”
We bundled the kids into the car and downtown to the boba and ice cream store. Maybe it wasn’t responsible parenting, but Rae and I weren’t parents, and we had some sad kids on our hands.
A familiar pink-haired woman turned from the cashier with a double scoop as we joined the line behind a family of five. My gran’s gently lined face twisted into an expression of mischief as she caught sight of me.
“There’s my boy.” Her gaze encompassed Rae at my side and the kids holding Rae’s hands. “Do I have great-grandkids I don’t know about?”
“If you do, you’ll have to take it up with Drew or Cole. These are Jia Dawkins’s kids, Tae and Hana,” I said.
“We’re getting ice cream for dinner,” Hana volunteered, eyes big as she took in my gran’s pink hair and matching long sundress. “We match. You look beautiful .”
Gran winked at the little girl. “Right back atcha, Hana.” Her gaze shifted to the little boy. “And who might you be?”
“Tae, ma’am.”
Gran frowned. “You, I don’t like.”
“Gran—” I broke in. Tae was having a rough enough day as it was. He didn’t deserve my Gran’s idea of a tongue lashing for implying she was old. Because, to him, she had to look at least two hundred.
Gran twirled once and held her cone aloft. “Do you know any other adults who wear twirly dresses and eat ice cream for dinner?”
Tae cast an uncertain glance my way but seemed to think better of telling her I was fifty percent of that description. “No.”
“Are you here to eat ice cream?” my grandma asked the little boy, glaring suspiciously.
“Yes.” Tae looked to me again, uncertainty written across his face. He didn’t know what to make of my gran. To be fair, I was in my thirties and still figuring her out.
Gran sniffed, nodding to him. “Then I revise my opinion. Anyone who eats ice cream is okay by me.” He gave her a tentative smile.
The kind you’d give your crazy aunt Carol when she took her dentures out to make a joke.
“Carry on.” She gestured, a queen to her peasants, and we took our turn at the head of the line.
By the time we each had a scoop of ice cream, Gran had disappeared.
We walked down to the waterfront, picking a bench overlooking the marina to eat.
June was the perfect time to visit Friday Harbor.
Days were long, the sun almost always shone, but it wasn’t hella hot.
Rae laughed every time I complained about temperatures over seventy-five, but when you lived on a sailboat without air conditioning, any temperature over the mid-seventies was rough.
Hana and Tae seemed content to lick at their cones, watching as the ferry loaded for an evening run. I bit back the urge to point out that their mother was probably on that ferry. The whole point of ice cream was to distract them from missing her.
“Does your gran get ice cream for dinner often?” Rae asked, gentle humor in her tone .
“She used to take us out for ice cream every time our parents left town,” I admitted, smiling fondly at the memory.
Drew always chose chocolate. Cole claimed that was boring.
He was more of a rainbow sherbet kind of guy.
Violet loved strawberry, and I bounced around from flavor to flavor, just like Gran.
“That’s so sweet.” Rae smiled. “I like that we’re continuing the tradition.”
I arched one brow. “Of bribery?”
She chuckled. “Nothing wrong with a little reward for future good behavior.”