Sea Glass Castle (The Carolina Coast Series Book 3)

by T. I. Lowe

“Hello, ladies,” Wes greeted quietly as he wedged himself between Agnes and Sophia.

  “I’m surprised to see you tonight. Figured you’d still be working,” Agnes whispered as the pastor went over a few announcements.

  Wes stretched an arm along the back of the pew behind her. “That paperwork will be complete and waiting on your desk in the morning, ma’am.” He leaned a little closer just to annoy her. “You’re welcome.”

  Agnes clucked her tongue and scooted away from him. For a seventy-three-year-old, she sure was spunky.

  “I’d like to share with you about a special gift from God,” the pastor said. “One that we as Christians should take advantage of and guard with our hearts. It’s the gift of hope.” He flipped through his Bible. “Romans 12:12 says, ‘Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.’ After reading this, I had to read it again.” The elderly man paced the stage, looking around at the congregation. “In the same verse of hope, affliction is mentioned. It’s a reminder that, yes, affliction will come, but no, we are not defeated. We have a hope in our Savior. Don’t let anything steal the joy in that.”

  The pews were aligned at an angle, which put Sophia in Wes’s periphery for the entire service. While he listened to the pastor offer words of encouragement about overcoming affliction and finding joy in hope, he watched Sophia quietly weep. As tears slid down her hollowed cheeks, he wanted to reach over, protectively tuck her into his side and give her some form of comfort, but it was not his place to offer any of that. Instead, he clasped his hands together in his lap to prevent himself from reaching out to her.

  “Let us pray,” the pastor said, sending all heads to bow and eyes to close.

  Wes sensed her movement to his left, and when the pastor said amen, he opened his eyes and found the spot beside him empty. It’s probably for the best. You have no business trying to comfort anyone.

  “I hope this means you’re reconsidering your hasty decision on Monday,” Agnes said, drawing Wes’s attention away from the empty spot.

  “I’m glad you have hope, Agnes. It’s a good thing.” He hitched a thumb in his mentor’s direction. “And I hope you allow Doc back into his bed tonight.”

  7

  Festivals along the Grand Strand always attracted a considerable crowd. Tourists as well as locals were drawn to the quaintness provided by regional foods, entertainment, contests, games and prizes, and craft vendors. The Fish and Grits Festival in Sunset Cove was no exception. On this balmy summer evening, the beach and boardwalk were lined with vendors and surrounded by onlookers.

  Opal hooked her arm around Sophia’s and maneuvered them over to a popcorn stand. “I just love those big ole copper kettles they cook it up in. You reckon I can talk Linc into buying me one?”

  Sophia snickered. “Honey, if you asked that big lug to buy you the moon, he’d be on the phone with NASA to figure out how to make it happen.”

  Opal giggled. “Ooh, look at all the choices.”

  The vendor offered the spirited redhead a sample of each flavor—salty sweet, white cheddar, cocoa, jalapeño, and caramel. He offered Sophia samples as well, but she politely declined.

  The appealing scent of burnt sugar and popcorn perfumed the air but gave her no desire to eat. Her stomach had remained in knots since the incident at the grocery store. Ty’s phone call and Wes’s refusal to hire her had only made it worse.

  “Okay, I need a bag of the white cheddar and the caramel . . . No, wait. Is there any way you could mix all the flavors into one bag?”

  Sophia turned her attention back to Opal and wrinkled her nose. “All mixed together?”

  “Sure. Sounds yummy, doesn’t it?” Opal smiled at the vendor, looking hopeful.

  “Sorry, but she’s pregnant,” Sophia interjected, although Opal’s weird taste buds came naturally and had nothing to do with hormone changes.

  It softened the man to the idea, and within minutes he was handing over a mix of the popcorn. Opal dug in the pocket of her long floppy skirt, produced a five-dollar bill, and paid before they moved on to a row of jewelry artisans.

  Sophia scanned the crowd and got at least her fifth glimpse of Wes that day. Earlier, he’d been trapped at the Chamber of Commerce tent, giving out balloons. Later in the day, he’d been handing out wellness pamphlets and pens at the pediatric health booth. After that, she’d seen him helping children with coloring pages at the church tent. Collin was with her then, and it was all she could do to pull the little guy away from Wes. And each time she spotted Wes, the man was surrounded by different groups of women.

  “Oh, my goodness. What has Agnes roped poor Wes into doing this evening?” Opal giggled and pointed over to where Sophia’s attention was already snagged. They watched Wes dish fried flounder and grits onto Styrofoam plates at the fire and rescue squad’s booth.

  “What do you mean about Agnes?” Sophia questioned, watching as he handed over another plate. He wore a rescue-squad ball cap now and should have worn one earlier by the looks of his sunburnt cheeks and nose. It matched the dark-navy tee they must have given him. Snickering, she recalled the various tees he’d worn throughout the day with his perfectly pressed khaki shorts and Sperry boat shoes.

  “Ever since he refused to hire you on Monday, she’s divvied out a world of pain and aggravation on the poor guy. He’s been doing her paperwork and anything else she decides he needs to do to teach him a lesson. Said he tried getting smart with her over the paperwork and so now she’s poured her wrath out on him full force. She’s the one who signed him up to work so many events today.”

  “That woman is a piece of work. . . . How do you know all this anyway? Have you been hanging out with those women from the Knitting Club? I warned you about those gossipers.” Sophia was watching Wes fill another plate as he lifted his head and caught her. The glare he pierced her with certainly didn’t look like he was changing his mind about hiring her. She turned away and pulled Opal out of his line of sight.

  “No, silly. I heard it straight from the horse’s mouth. Agnes and I are like this.” Opal held up two fingers and touched them together.

  “Since when?” Sophia looked at her dubiously.

  “Since way back.” Opal flicked her wrist. “If you ask me, she’s doing it so he’ll see how much easier life would be if he’d go ahead and allow her to retire in peace.” She shoveled in a handful of popcorn and chewed thoughtfully before adding, “She keeps this up and he’ll be at your door on his hands and knees begging you to work for him.”

  Sophia couldn’t stop herself from glancing over her shoulder. Wes was swamped. Plate after plate he filled and handed out. She turned back around. “You go ahead and head over to Josie and August’s tent. I’ll meet you there later.”

  “Where are you going?” Opal asked before Sophia made much headway through the crowd.

  “I feel responsible for Agnes treating Wes this way. The least I can do is help him serve plates.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’ll catch up with you later.” There was laughter in Opal’s voice, but Sophia paid it no mind. She was on a mission and needed to focus on it.

  Apparently the Facebook posts Sophia had created this week weren’t enough to change his mind about her. She’d put several together, giving Carolina Pediatrics high accolades. Even went as far as putting together a profile post to welcome Dr. Weston Sawyer to Sunset Cove. She’d included a small yet impressive bio and a picture she copied from a medical journal he’d been featured in. The picture was four years old, but the man appeared just as clean-cut handsome as he did now.

  Taking a fortifying breath of the salty air, Sophia made a beeline to the fire chief. “Hey, Billy. Can I give you guys a hand?”

  Billy handed over the money-collecting duties to another firemen and gave Sophia his full attention. “Sure thing, sweetheart. You won’t ever hear us turning down help from a beautiful lady.” He winked and pointed to where a small portable sink was stationed near the rear of the tent.

  She quick
ly washed her hands and eased her way into the service line right beside Wes. She took over placing golden-brown fillets of fish on top of the dollop of grits he dished onto the plates. He continued working without acknowledging her, but each time their elbows touched, she caught sight of the muscle in his jaw flexing.

  As the supper rush dwindled, Wes pulled his apron off and spoke for the first time in the last hour. “Billy, looks like you men can handle it from here.” He shook the chief’s hand and then returned to Sophia and whispered, “We need to have a talk. Now.”

  Her stomach did a somersault as if she were being called into the principal’s office for something she hadn’t done. Just like the time Opal thought it would be cute to rearrange their youth group’s room, yet Sophia was blamed for it.

  “Umm . . . I thought I’d stay and help a little longer.” She picked up another plate, but he yanked it out of her hand and ignored her attempt at begging off.

  Wes laced his fingers with hers, stalked off past the sand dunes, and didn’t slow until they were far enough down the beach for the music and lights of the festival to fade. He let go of her hand and pivoted around to face her.

  “What do I have to do to get you to leave me the heck alone?” Wes tossed his hands in the air.

  “I’ve not bothered you.” Sophia took a step back. She had learned the hard way not to stay within reach of an angry man.

  “No?” Wes yanked the hat off just to shove it down on his head again before glaring at her from underneath the brim. He would have looked boyish and downright cute had it not been for the severity of that scowl. “This past week has been a nightmare!”

  “I had nothing to do with how Agnes treated you this week.”

  “No, but you did enough with those ridiculous media posts. Please, for the love of all good things, do not put anything else up about me.” His brows furrowed as he loomed over her.

  “But it was nothing but positive accolades about you.” The wind whipped her hair around, so she pushed it out of her face and decided to put a little more space between them.

  “That ‘bio’ read like a singles ad for a dating website. You do have a way with words, Ms. Prescott. The only thing it garnered was a plethora of single moms worrying me slap crazy. My recycle bin at work is filled with phone numbers.” Wes paced a tight circle and pinched the bridge of his sunburnt nose. Flinching, he dropped his hand and stopped short. “I’m a professional. And you’ve made a mockery of me and my practice.”

  Sophia sucked in a disjointed breath and placed a palm over her heart. “That wasn’t my intention. You have to believe I was only trying to right my wrongs.” She burst into tears. “All I do is try my best, but all I do is fail!” A sob rushed out as she plopped down in the sand.

  “Why don’t you take down your posts and just leave me alone and we can forget this entire mess.” He moved to stand in front of her, but she looked no further up than his tanned knees.

  Sophia tried to dry it up but only produced another hiccuping round of sobs. “I need a job is why.”

  Wes snorted like what she said was absurd. “Why? Because you’re bored?”

  Sophia snorted back but wished she hadn’t. Using the back of her hand to wipe underneath her nose, she muttered, “No. I need a job because I’m broke and have a child to support all on my own.”

  Wes grew still and planted his hands on his lean hips. “But what about your ex—?”

  “But nothing.” She knew where that was headed. “Do you not watch the news? Or read your Yahoo! headlines?”

  “I don’t believe in TV.”

  “Of course you don’t, Dr. Perfect. If you did, you’d know my ex is being investigated for tax fraud. Our accounts have been frozen.” She sniffed and wiped her nose again. “So boredom is the least of my problems. I have an MBA and a stellar résumé, but I’m basically flat broke.”

  Wes let out a long sigh as he sat beside her. “Seems we have a few problems that need sorting.”

  “Ya think?” Sophia fixed her watery gaze on the moonlit waves. Such a gorgeous night for such a miserable conversation.

  Wes drew his knees up and folded his arms around them. “Let’s think this through.”

  They remained silent, watching the waves roll in, until she said, “I’m sorry. I have no idea how to fix the mess with the women hounding you, but . . . you could turn it into a good thing and maybe find a woman to share your free time with.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him shaking his head.

  “I’m still in love with my wife. The fact that she’s dead doesn’t change how I feel about her. I have no desire to give someone else my heart when it still belongs to Claire.”

  Ty’s handsome face with his aw-shucks grin flashed before Sophia’s eyes, causing her chest to tighten. “I can understand that, to an extent. The part about not wanting to give your heart to another.” She scooped up a handful of sand and let it funnel through her fingers. “Seems the divorce papers didn’t inform my heart. I know I’m not supposed to love my ex. Well, I still love the man I fell in love with. Certainly not the man he turned out to be.”

  The final breaking point shoved its way to the front of her thoughts, a blaring reminder of how wrong she’d been about Ty. Sophia had flown out to California, where Ty was working on a sports apparel ad, to try rekindling their relationship. It seemed like a perfect idea at the time. Looking back now, Sophia knew she never should have gotten on that plane to go surprise him. She never should have walked through that hotel suite to confront the betrayal she heard coming from the bedroom. She never should have gotten back on that plane with more bruises than she could cover up. She never should have hoped the fissures of their broken marriage would somehow mend themselves.

  Another spell of silence blanketed them as the litany of never should haves kept hounding her. Sophia watched the lights of a ship off in the distance, wondering what it would feel like to be on it, sailing away from all her problems.

  Finally, when she was sick of dwelling on her own issues, she redirected her attention to the silent man sitting beside her who seemed just as lost in the world as she felt. “Wes, I’m really sorry about your wife and child. Opal said—”

  “I don’t want your platitudes. I’ve already heard enough of them to make a living writing sympathy cards,” he snapped, cutting off any sympathy she was ready to impart.

  “Sorry,” she snapped back before muttering under her breath, “Jerk.”

  They both grew quiet again, the only gesture they seemed comfortable sharing with each other.

  The music halted as an announcement echoed through the speakers at the festival. “Last call for the Ferris wheel.”

  Sophia had ridden the Ferris wheel a minimum of four times with Collin earlier in the day. Even though the thrill of the ride was long gone, she’d rather be on it at the moment instead of sitting in the sand with her haughty company.

  “Perhaps we can make a deal of some sort.” Wes dropped his arms and angled to face her. “I’ll agree to hire you under one—no, two conditions.”

  “What are the conditions?” Sophia asked hesitantly.

  Wes gave her a brief once-over. “You have to date me, for one. And you also have to promise you’ll start eating.”

  She replayed what he’d just said in her head, trying to rearrange the words until it made some sense, but it kept on sounding preposterous. “Come again?”

  “Not really date me, just fake date. It would get those women to leave me alone.”

  “I just don’t—”

  “It’s your fault all those women are chasing after me in the first place. I think it’s your responsibility to put a stop to it.” Wes tapped the side of her leg. “What better way than to take me off the market?”

  Sophia looked at him hard, trying to find tease in his expression, but only found seriousness wrapped in titanium. “I don’t want to date anyone!”

  “That’s my point. Neither do I . . . but we can work this in both our favor. You’re a beaut
iful single woman, so surely this will help you keep unwanted attention from other men away.”

  Sophia shook her head, totally taken aback by the strange conversation. Truth be told, she had a few men hanging around her since moving back, but she had no desire to jump into dating anytime soon. Thinking it over, she asked, “What is fake dating?”

  “I’m not sure. Never done this before.” Wes rubbed his jaw and scanned the beach as if it would reveal an answer. “We’ll have to make it up as we go along. I’m guessing we should go out to dinner or something once a week and sit together at church so we can be seen in public together.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad. But what about Collin?”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s already attached to you for some reason.” That had completely baffled her, considering she felt totally opposite. “I don’t want to confuse him. He’s already gone through enough. If . . . if he gets used to having you around, then once we end this fake dating, I fear he’ll be brokenhearted.”

  “We’ll have to be careful.” Wes sighed heavily. “Honestly, I’m starting to get attached to him too. I’ve joined the church and we live in the same community, so I don’t see why we can’t remain buddies no matter what.” He released a dry laugh. “Plus, I’ve already been roped into singing with him again next week.”

  The singing incident was the cutest thing ever, but she refused to own up to how she felt about Wes doing that for her son. Sophia also wouldn’t let that blind her to what was important at the moment. “If you promise not to hurt my baby—because if you do, rabid women chasing after you will be the least of your worries—then we can give this a try. For a while.”

  “Promise. August and Lincoln already warned me at the deck party to never get on your bad side. They said you like to pinch.” He gave her a pointed look. “But you’ll have to eat.”

  “How do you know anything about my eating habits?”

  “Agnes. The woman has made me live, eat, and breathe all things Sophia Grace Prescott this week. She mentioned you’ve stopped eating, but I already knew that just by looking at you. How long has this been going on?”