Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Noises rouse me out of sleep; I finally passed out after tossing and turning for what felt like hours.
Getting out of bed, my hair is everywhere, acting like a straitjacket confining me. “Ugh.” I moan, swiping it out of my face, forcing the wildness into a bun, heading it to my coffee maker.
Once I have my cup of coffee, I head straight down to the beach to sit and drink my coffee in the sand.
I could sit here every morning for the rest of my life, and that’s exactly what I plan to do; that thought shocks me. How casual it felt.
Waking up a business owner and being here has sparked something in me. For the first time in a long time, I feel truly happy and that’s kind of scary.
Do I know where this is all going? No, but that’s okay; I’m not supposed to. Life is worth the scary and unpredictable moments, because in the end, the happy and fulfilling ones outweigh them.
Watching a seagull fly, dive into the water, and come out with a fish, I smile out at the ocean and the calm waves. “I’m ready,” I tell them and myself.
Pushing myself up off the sand, I walk to the shore, letting the swash kiss my feet.
“August.”
Spinning around, Kai calls for me from the stairs. “Hey.” I turn and walk toward him.
“Good news, we’ll be done today. Tub is going in now, and the guys will paint, and tomorrow we’ll be gone for good,” Kai tells me, smiling.
“That is so exciting.” I close the gap between us, stepping up the first step. “And when will you start on the shop?”
I already have some guys there; he pulls a key from his pocket. “I created a new one, and I’ll give it back after we’re done there.” I tear up at the keychain now hanging from the key.
“Baylee,” Kai tells me before turning around and walking up the stairs.
Tears blur my vision as I bring the keychain to my lips, kissing it. It’s just a cheap tourist keychain, but she used a Sharpie and wrote ‘home’ on it.
Drying my face, I pour the bit of now-cold coffee into the dune grass that coddles each side of the stairs.
“Man,” I mutter to myself before placing my key and coffee cup on the deck table, forcing myself to the porta potty by my driveway. I can’t wait until I can actually use the bathroom. You don’t realize how much you take that stuff for granted until you don’t have it.
I now have two new stoves being delivered to the shop in about a week. I also ordered bulk ingredients and started searching for décor. I can see the bakery in my mind, and I can’t wait to see it come to fruition.
Did I splurge and buy expensive commercial ovens? Yes. But they're also a light baby blue, which makes it even better.
By the time I’m done with everything I think I needed to order, it’s three in the afternoon, and I need to get out of the house.
Throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank top, I call it good before slipping on my sandals and grabbing my tote. I need more coffee, and the thrift store is calling my name.
“Wanna go shopping around town with me?” I ask Baylee on the other end of my phone.
“Umm, yeah. Plus, we have to talk. You’ll never believe who showed up at my house this morning and the freaking shit that’s going on. It’s crazy, August.” Baylee tells me.
My eyebrows draw together as I get into my car. “Meet me at Sippy’s.”
Driving into town, my mind racing. It has to be Bohdi. Right?
I’m not even fully out of my car yet when Baylee bounds up to me, coffees in hand, making me jump. “Holy hell, Bay.” I grab my chest with one hand and the coffee she’s offering with the other.
“Sorry.” She smiles, and her face definitely doesn’t convey the apology.
We head straight to the thrift store, and I’m on a mission.
Walking around, my head swivels from left to right, looking at all the antiques, eyes honing in on different things. “So, what did you want to tell me?”
“First, why didn’t you tell me about the Williams wanting to bulldoze August Cove?” She stops, and I freeze.
“Who told you?” I don’t know why I’m even asking. I know who told her, but why?
“Bohdi showed up this morning, and August- stuff isn’t as it seems. I’m still flabbergasted and in shock about everything he told us.
Do you know they tried to take Driftwood Marina from the Westmores, pretty much tied Bohdi’s hand with marrying Molly just so he wouldn’t lose his family’s land and business.
” Her eyes were wide as she quietly spoke so no one could hear her.
I stand there, mouth agape, my mind trying to connect to what she had just told me. “Hold on. Are you serious?”
“Like a heart attack.”
Finally getting my legs to work again, I walk forward. “What is Bohdi going to do?”
“He found something out last night, and he thinks he can use this secret to call them off.” Baylee says.
“What secret?”
“I don’t know; he didn’t say.”
My mind is spinning with everything I learned that we both just walk around the thrift store in a daze. Until I come to the antique headboard I saw all those weeks ago. Forgoing what she just told me, I find the older lady and flag her down. I can tell she recognizes me. “Changed your mind, I see.”
“Nothing is ever set in stone.” I smile at her.
By the time I walk out of the thrift store, I’m now the owner of an antique headboard that will be delivered sometime today.
Once outside, the town is buzzing with everyone getting off work. “What do you have planned?” Baylee asks me.
“I think I’m going to run to the store and get some ingredients and go to the shop. I want to bake. I need to bake. Try some things out and see what I like best.”
“I love you. We are having dinner tonight at Kai’s parents'. It’s going to be hard to not say anything, but Kai and I both have to keep our mouths shut. This is unnecessary stress for Mr. Westmore and, hell, Mrs. Westmore.
“I agree.” I hug Baylee goodbye, and now I’m itching to start baking.
“I think I got too much,” I huff out to myself while pushing the front door open with my foot, hands full of bags, scurrying across the concrete floor to throw everything on the counter. My arms were screaming from the tightness that was hanging from them.
Two more trips and I’m finally done, falling in the middle of the floor, laying on my back, looking at the ceiling. Thankfully, I was able to get the baking sheets I needed and a mixer, which was way overpriced for a non-name brand, but it’ll be my backup when I bring my pride and joy to the shop.
While laying on the floor, I envision an enormous piece of driftwood hanging from the ceiling, with maybe some fairy lights around it. I smile, liking that idea, an ode to Driftwood Bay.
I turn my head to the left, looking outside and knowing that if someone peaked in right now, what they would see. And I laugh.
Forcing myself off the floor, I make my way into the kitchen, opening the ovens and making sure there isn’t anything in them before I preheat.
Making quick work of it, I bring all the ingredients into the kitchen, lining them up and turning on my phone, needing music to fill this place.
Once I’m done washing the new baking sheets and utensils, I measure out my dry ingredients, lost in my own world, swaying to the music.
With the chocolate chip cookies and snickerdoodles in the oven, I start my batter for my great-grandma’s chocolate cake. Tossing around names that I can call in on the menu, and only coming up with GG’s. “Clever, August,” I mumble to myself.
I Can Do It With A Broken Heart by Taylor Swift shuffles on, and in a moment, I’m standing hand mixing, and in the next, I have the whisk up to my mouth, singing.
On the chorus, I spin around and scream, dropping the chocolate-covered whisk to the ground, chocolate going everywhere.
Bohdi stands against the wall, watching me.
I shut my eyes, mortified, slowly opening them to his smiling face. “You just barge in wherever you want?” I ask, sounding like a brat.
He hikes his thumb over his shoulder. “I was out there calling your name, but you didn’t hear me. I heard the concert going on in here and, well, I was mesmerized by your singing.” Bohdi bites his lip.
“You’re so funny,” I tell him, bending down and picking up the dirty whisk. Straightening up, I look at Bohdi; he looks different, not him per se, but his energy. He looks lighter. Raising my eyebrows, “What do you need?”
He pushes off the wall. “I saw the light on while I was turning to go to the bed-and-breakfast and then saw your car. Wanted to stop and say hi.” He pulls in his bottom lip, closing the gap between us.
“Well, I’m here. I needed to bake, got too much inside me and you know the way I let it out.”
“I knew a few ways you used to let it out.” He smiles at me.
Rolling my eyes, I turn to grab the bowl of chocolate cake batter, but my hands don’t pick it up because I feel Bohdi right behind me, so close he’s touching me. My eyes close on their own. “Bohdi,” I groan out his name because I don’t have willpower when it comes to him.
Opening my eyes, I watch his hand come around me to the bowl, bringing it to him.
I can feel him step back before I turn around, my back to the counter.
I watch him as he dips his index finger into the batter, coming out with a glob of chocolate and slowly opening his mouth before his lips close around his finger, sucking it off.
He moans, and I moan. He smiles at me, his teeth around his finger.
His eyes show he knows exactly what the hell he is doing, as my mind screams What is he doing here.
My gaze follows his every move, dipping his finger back into the batter, then placing it right in front of my mouth. “Taste it, August,” he whispers to me, his eyes full of mischief.