Chapter 2
Jake
Grayson sets his paddle board on the sand, then sits down beside me. “Got any cold ones in that backpack?”
“Maybe,” I say, rooting around for the three cans I stuffed in the bag on my way out the door this afternoon.
“You’re a hero,” Grayson says when I hand him a Miller Lite. “And it’s chilled too. This is why I love you, man. You always pull through.”
“It’s a beer, not an engagement ring. Don’t make it weird,” I grumble, setting my can down in the sand while I pull my T-shirt on over my head. It must be close to 85 degrees today and after a two-hour paddle, I’ve had enough sun for one day.
“I don’t care what you say, you’re a fucking life saver,” Grayson says, cracking the tab on the can I just handed him. “Got any sandwiches in there too?”
I side-eye him. “Don’t push your luck.”
A moment later, Tucker drops his paddleboard and flops down onto the sand beside us. I toss him a beer, which he immediately opens and knocks back.
”That is exactly what I needed,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and settling back on his elbows.
Grayson, Tucker and I, along with our other buddy Holden, have been best friends for years. It feels more like we’re brothers at this point. The three of them live on Haven Harbor, next door to the little home my Gran has lived in since I was a kid. Gran happens to be a card shark, so she invited the guys to play poker with us one evening. It turned into a regular game, and the four of us have been close ever since. When I say my grandmother is a card shark, I’m not kidding—she creams our asses every single time.
But things will soon be changing on the secluded coastal street. Gran will be moving out of her home on Haven Harbor and into a nearby assisted living facility. My sister Sierra and I hated having to persuade her to leave the home she’s lived in for decades, but she lives alone and after a string of accidents and close calls and the onset of dementia, it felt like the only option. The only good news in all of this is that Sierra is moving back to Reed Point from Virginia Beach, where she’s been for the last four years.
I’m fucking happy she’s coming back home. We’re close, always have been. I get why Sierra left Reed Point, but I didn’t like her living 500 miles away. I know some people think I’m a ridiculously overprotective older brother, but when you survive a devastating loss like we did as kids, you can’t help it. Sierra and Gran are the only family I have left.
“How’s Gran? Is she still giving you shit about the move?” Grayson asks as he slips his shades on and tips his face to the sun.
“She’s pissed.” There is no point in sugar-coating it. “She isn’t making it easy on us.”
The movers are coming in two weeks. And after we move Gran out, Sierra is moving into her small house. It only made sense since she needed to find a place to stay, and Gran didn’t want to sell.
“It sucks, but you made the right decision, Jake. Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Grayson says, toeing sand in my direction.
I nod, then take a long swig from my beer. I know it’s what’s best for her, but it still isn’t easy. Sierra and I owe Gran everything. I was only 12 years old when we went to live with her after that horrible night, and Sierra was 10. Gran raised us both, and I know I didn’t make it easy on her. I was angry at the world for taking our parents from us. I was also shouldering a lot of guilt—to be honest, I still am. On the night of the fire, I had snuck out of the house. If I’d been in my bed, where I should have been, my parents wouldn’t have been searching for me through the smoke and flames. They probably would have made it out in time. They would still be alive today. All these years later, it still haunts me.
“Gray is right,” Tuck says. “It’s for the best. Besides, Gran is a social butterfly. She’ll be a big deal around there in no time.”
“She’s bringing her poker table with her, right?” Grayson asks. He’s lying in the sand with a forearm held over his eyes to block the glare of the sun.
“I think so.” I shrug. “We haven’t talked about it.”
“Well, she should. She could make a killing. Take those seniors for every penny they have left,” Tucker jokes.
“Better than having to play cards with you fuckers,” I tell them. “She could have played blindfolded and still beat you pussy players.”
“What would you know about pussy, Matthews?” Tucker says, calling me by my last name. “You haven’t gotten your dick wet in a year.”
Grayson laughs beside me, and I glare in his direction. The truth is, Tucker isn’t too far off the mark. Unlike these guys, I’ve never been into meaningless hookups. They’re all right if the sex is good, but then it’s awkward as fuck afterwards; I end up feeling like a dick when I don’t really want the girl to stick around. I wouldn’t be against dating someone seriously, I just haven’t had any luck finding the one. One of the downfalls of living in a small town—the dating pool is painfully limited.
“You okay today, Jakey?” Grayson asks as he sits up and brushes the sand from his skin. “You’re even moodier than usual.”
I must look as tired as I feel. I’ve been short-staffed all week at the contracting company I own, which means I’ve been onsite early every day at one of the houses we’re remodelling. It’s tough, physical work and my body is definitely feeling it.
“I’m fine. Just tired of putting up with you two dummies.”
“Hey, maybe if you got your dick sucked, you’d be less grumpy,” Tucker says with a grin.
”At least my dick is intact,” I respond. “Yours is probably in the process of falling off thanks to an STD.”
Tucker flips me off.
Having had his fill of bullshitting for the moment, Tuck changes topics and asks where we want to meet for our weekly downhill bike ride tomorrow morning. I let the two of them argue about which trail we should ride, stretching out and looking down the sandy beach. It’s not too busy today. Unlike the bigger beaches in Reed Point that are always packed on sunny days, this smaller cove a little further up the coast tends to be pretty quiet.
My gaze lands on a girl who is sitting by herself on a beach blanket not too far from us. Her feet are buried in the sand, her long, brown hair falling down her back. I squint, trying to confirm it is who I think it is. My pulse picks up just a bit. It’s her. The waitress from Catch 21. She’s just as stunning as she was the night I ran into her at the restaurant a couple of weeks ago.
Her face is tilted toward the turquoise sky, and I take the opportunity to stare. She’s wearing a tiny pair of denim shorts and a thin tank top, her golden, smooth skin on display.
Breathtaking.
I snap back to reality when a boy comes running down the beach toward her, chasing a soccer ball. She puts a hand to her eyes as her gaze follows the ball to where it lands not far from me.
She looks up, and her wide eyes meet mine.
I instantly feel goosebumps race down my spine at the memory of running into her at Catch 21. It was nothing, just a moment. I’ve been around plenty of pretty girls, but there was something about her that lit a spark in me. Something that made me want to push her up against the wall and kiss her. She’s popped into my mind many times since then, and it’s always the memory of those hazel eyes locked on mine. Just like they are right now.
She cocks her head, and her lips tip up at the corners in a cautious smile before she looks away, breaking eye contact. I take a deep breath, the same spark I felt that night knocking me off kilter again.
“See something you like?” Tucker asks, fixing me with a knowing smirk.
I shake my head. “I just recognized her from Catch 21. She’s a waitress there. I ran into her the other night when I had dinner with Liam.”
“And now your dick wants to run into her,” Grayson says, and I realize that all three of us are staring at her like assholes.
“Guys. Stop fucking staring, it’s creepy.” I elbow Grayson in his side, and he mock-winces.
“Geez, you have a crush on this girl,” Tuck says, swatting at Grayson’s leg. “See that, Gray… our boy has it bad.”
Thankfully, Grayson’s phone lights up with a call and our conversation is put on hold. As Tuck picks up his own phone and starts scrolling, I tell myself to be cool, just act normal. I am not in the mood for an interrogation about a girl I don’t even know. But it isn’t as easy as it sounds. I’m itching to look at her. It takes every ounce of my willpower to keep from glancing back in her direction.
Eventually I crack. I can’t help it.
The breeze coming off the ocean blows her long hair away from her face and I notice the curve of her shoulder, the smooth column of her neck. She’s the kind of beautiful that knocks the breath out of you. She has olive skin, and I remember her eyes being a color I’ve never seen before—like a bright green moss mixed with a precious stone. Her body makes me want to run my fingers over every inch of it.
My pervy thoughts are interrupted when Tuck sits up, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “I gotta run, boys. I’ve got dinner with my dad tonight, which is obviously just an excuse for him to tell me all the ways he thinks I’m fucking up my life.” He rolls his eyes. “Can’t wait.”
Tucker’s dad is hard on him, always has been. Their relationship is complicated, to put it mildly.
“I don’t know why you’re still taking his shit. You’re a grown man. You don’t have to, you know,” Gray says. He stands up, then grabs his board. “I’ll catch a ride with you, Tuck.”
Brushing the sand off his shorts, he looks at me and then nods down the beach. “You should shoot your shot with her, Jake.”
“Maybe,” I say. I know the guys will give me the gears if I don’t man up and at least talk to her. It’s been a long time since I’ve shown any real interest in a girl. Two years and three months, to be exact. But if I do decide to approach her, I’m not stupid enough to do it while Tucker and Grayson are here to witness it. I don’t need to give them any ammo if I go over there and strike out.
Besides, I’m not looking for anything serious so what’s the harm in talking to her? If she’s not interested, it’s no big deal. Right?
I say goodbye to the guys and then knock back the rest of my beer as I watch them head across the beach to the parking lot. Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I stand up and walk down the beach towards her.
When I get closer, her gaze tips up to mine. Damn. She’s beautiful. I force myself to swallow my nerves.
“Hey. I recognize you from Catch 21,” I start. “I was there a couple of weeks ago. I was the guy who almost killed you when I walked right into you. Sorry about that. I should really pay attention to where I’m going…”
My pulse hammers beneath my skin. I walked over here without any kind of a plan, and now I’m standing here blabbering like an idiot. What was I thinking? I’m not a talker. I’m not outgoing. I smile at her, hoping that panic isn’t written all over my face. I take a deep breath, and her scent—something citrusy like oranges or clementines—smells so good that it’s all I can think about.
I crouch beside her, and as she glances out at the ocean, I take note of the thin chain around her neck with a tiny pendant resembling a bird.
A sparrow.
I want to know what it means to her. I want to know everything about her.
She looks at me, her lower lip pulled between her teeth.
“Jake. Jake Matthews,” I say, filling the silence. She nods, absentmindedly twisting her hair around into a knot at the base of her neck. “Hi,” she says, a cautious tone to her voice. “I’m Everly.” She looks back to the ocean, and I wonder if it’s a subtle hint that she wants to be left alone.
I’m deciding whether I should just cut my losses and go when a little girl with blonde hair comes skipping up the sand, plopping down onto the blanket beside Everly. I watch as she slips her arm around the child’s back, pulling her to her side.
“Did you see me jump the really big wave?”
My heart sinks as I notice the clear resemblance between them. She has a daughter? I can’t help but wonder if she has a husband too.
I take in the girl’s olive-hued skin and wide, hazel eyes which look just like Everly’s. She wraps her sandy arms around Everly’s neck and casts a sideways glance in my direction.
“I saw, baby. It was the biggest one yet,” Everly says, grinning at the little girl. Her whole face has lit up. The cautious expression from before is gone. She looks happy, relaxed.
“Can I do it again, Mommy?”
It is her daughter. I quickly check Everly’s left hand for a ring, wondering if I made an ass out of myself by coming over here. There isn’t one.
The little girl flops down into Everly’s lap. “I think I can jump higher.”
Everly smiles wide. “Let’s see. I’ll watch you from here.”
The girl gets up and dashes for the ocean, Everly’s eyes on her the whole time. She looks so genuinely joyful that I start to feel like I’m intruding. But then she turns her gaze to me and the last thing I want to do is leave.
“You have a daughter,” I say, stating the obvious.
“I do.”
“She’s cute. How old is she?” I ask.
“Seven.” There’s a pause, but then she adds, “Her name is Birdie. And yes, she’s very cute. She’s sugar and spice, that one. She keeps me on my toes.” Birdie. That explains her necklace.
Everly smiles, but before the conversation goes any further, her phone chimes on the blanket next to her. She picks it up, swiping the iPhone to life.
“Sorry, it’s my neighbor,” she says as she types out a message. “I asked her to watch Birdie during my shift tonight, so I just need to make sure she knows the time.”
“Catch 21?”
Everly nods as she types, her bottom lip caught under her teeth. Every couple of seconds, she glances towards the ocean, where Birdie is jumping in the small waves lapping against the shore.
I study her, wanting to know everything I can about her. Where did she grow up? How long has she been in Reed Point? Where is Birdie’s dad and how does he fit into the picture? Are they still together? Does she still love him? I want to know it all.
Will I ever get the chance to ask her?
I’ve been attracted to plenty of girls in my lifetime, but this feels different. This spark that flashes in my chest every time her eyes meet mine, like a live wire behind my ribcage. The scent of her—lilacs and citrus surrounds me, practically soaking through my skin.
Everly drops her phone back on the blanket and gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she repeats, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip again. Shit. My dick perks to life every time she does that. She really needs to stop doing that.
“Don’t be,” I tell her. “I get it. So, how long have you worked there?”
“Catch 21? Not long. Six weeks, give or take.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“I mean, it’s a job. I’m grateful to have it. I’d do anything to provide for Birdie,” she says, still watching the little girl on the edge of the ocean. “It’s fun some nights, not so fun on others. I’m telling myself it’s an adventure. It’s how I’m choosing to look at it.”
“That’s a great way to look at it.” I swallow, then decide to just ask her the question that I can’t get out of my head. “So, your husband can’t watch her tonight?”
She gives me a pointed look that tells me there was nothing subtle about the way I asked that.
“If you are wondering if I’m married, you could have just asked.”
“Fair. I’m wondering if you’re married.”
She smirks and shakes her head, holding up her bare ring finger. “Not married. No boyfriend either, which is why my neighbor is kind enough to help me out when I have a night shift.”
“It must not be easy doing it all by yourself.”
“It’s okay,” she says with a shrug. “It’s for the best.”
Everly picks up a broken seashell, rolling it between her fingers. I can sense the tension in her. It’s clear that she doesn’t want to talk about it any further than that, so I shift the conversation back to the day, the beach, Reed Point. Safe and easy topics, the things people talk about when they’re getting to know each other. She waves to Birdie as she talks and the way her entire face lights up is mesmerizing.
Birdie is adorable. Her strawberry-blonde hair is held back in two long, messy braids. Every time she smiles—which she does often—she shows off the space where she’s missing her two bottom teeth.
Everly’s eyes are never far from her daughter, which gives me time to take her in. She’s gorgeous. She’s wearing barely any makeup—mascara and maybe a little bit of lip gloss. Her full lips look soft and pillowy.
I want to kiss them.
And now I’m thinking about where else I would like that pretty mouth.
I run a hand through my hair. Why am I so fucking curious about this girl? I may as well ask for her goddamn Instagram handle, that’s how intent I am on finding out every single thing about her. This is fucking ridiculous.
“Is Reed Point home?” I ask.
“It is now,” she nods, twisting a bracelet she’s wearing around her wrist. “We moved here in March.”
“What brought you to Reed Point?”
“I was ready for a change” she says, and again I can see there is more that she doesn’t want to open up about. “And my parents live here, so it will be good for Birdie to spend time with them.”
I resist the urge to ask her more. I want to know where home was, and what really made her move here. But it doesn’t feel like it’s my business. I don’t want to scare Everly off. I already get the sense that there is an invisible timer ticking down the seconds of our conversation. Sure enough, a second later our time’s up.
“Well, we should get going. It was nice talking to you, Jake.”
I stand up, brushing the sand from my legs. A voice inside my head tells me I should walk away—she’s not interested, she has a kid. Read the writing on the wall, Jake. But a bigger part of me needs to take the chance. To get her number, to keep talking. There is still so much I want to know about her.
“Yeah, I guess I should head out too. Hey, Everly, do you think we could—”
“Jake, it was really nice to meet you,” she interrupts. “You seem like a nice guy.” Fuck.Nice guy. I know a brush-off when I hear one.Everly gives me an apologetic smile and I know what’s coming. She’s not interested. “My focus is Birdie right now. It’s just the two of us and it’s… complicated.”
I nod. “Yeah, of course.” But as I say it, I take note of the way Everly’s gaze rakes over my chest and down to my board shorts, appreciation in her eyes.
“Birdie, time to go!” she calls, bending to gather their blanket and shake the sand off of it. I watch her, wishing there was something I could say to change her mind. But I know I don’t stand a chance.
Everly is the first girl I’ve felt a spark with since Jade. I’m hooked and she’s not interested.Fuck my life.
“See you around, Everly.”
“See you around.”
Birdie appears beside us, and Everly wraps a towel around her shoulders and then picks up her bag. She gives me a little wave and I watch as the two of them walk to the road, trying to ignore the feeling that I just missed out on something good.