by Jenny Hale
When a wave came in, she watched its white bubbling cap while it built speed, her heart racing as they moved closer to it. Luke shifted behind her but she kept her eye on it like he’d said to do. “On your knees,” he said calmly, the wave getting bigger.
The board was turning at Luke’s command. “Stand up!” he said with excitement. “Bend your knees.” She did, and they were both riding it in!
“Oh!” Callie said, the thrill of it overwhelming her. His hands were on her waist, their bodies close. She turned to look at him, causing both of them to lose their balance and tumble into the surf. She came up through the water and pushed her hair away from her face. “I was up for a second!” she said with a laugh.
“You were awesome! Great job!”
“Thank you,” she said. She was still catching her breath. “I think it was you who did all the work though.” She climbed back up onto the surfboard and he sat behind her, the water sliding across its surface as the waves moved in and out.
“I turned us around but you balanced all by yourself.”
As they sat together, an airplane with a banner advertising a seafood buffet caused a moment’s shadow as it flew between them and the sun. She felt Luke’s arms around her and she leaned back, letting the moment happen between them.
“That was fun,” he said into her ear. She turned toward him and he touched his lips to hers, taking her breath away. “Stole one,” he said with a grin.
She twisted completely around and swung her legs on either side of the board as it bobbed.
“What?” he said innocently, as if he had no idea why she’d turned to look at him. “You said you wouldn’t kiss me on command, so that put me in a weird spot since I wanted to kiss you just then. I figured I’d have to steal one.”
Her lips tingled with the words that were about to come out of her mouth. Callie had never let herself be this emotionally exposed before. She debated saying it, but she knew she would anyway because it was a hundred percent true. “You didn’t have to steal a kiss. I would’ve given it to you,” she said.
His eyebrows rose at that news. He scooted closer to her, his hands moving to her hips as he steadied them on the board, his blue eyes shimmering in the sunlight.
“I didn’t do this right the first time,” he said. “Or just now.” He leaned in slowly as if asking permission. Her stillness gave him his answer and he put his lips right near hers, his breath making her lightheaded. Then, he wrapped his arms completely around her, swallowing her in his embrace, his salty lips suddenly on hers. She closed her eyes and put her arms around his neck as he steadied them both, the water under them moving in time to their own movements.
She took in his scent—the earthy, warm smell of his skin and the lingering spice from his morning aftershave. The softness of his lips, and the way they fit together perfectly with hers—it all made Callie realize that something had been missing for her. She wanted to know everything about Luke all at once, and she didn’t want a single minute to go by when she didn’t have this feeling. She’d dated plenty of people before, but nothing she’d ever experienced compared to this moment and she knew that she’d never forget it as long as she lived.
Luke was the first to pull back. He smiled at her, that look that she loved so much returning. It wasn’t smug at all—just like when he’d brought her coffee, she’d read it wrong when they’d met; it was his complete satisfaction and happiness with that moment. Looking at him now, she couldn’t believe she’d ever read it as anything else.
“Hungry?” he asked, his gaze still devouring her.
“Yes,” she said, giving in to the moment. She couldn’t tell if she was hungry or not. She could hardly think about anything other than him.
They paddled to shore and he tossed the board gently into the sand next to his. “I have shrimp cocktail, herb and butter crackers made by our chef, and any fruit or veggie you can think of in the back of the truck.”
When they got to the chairs, Luke asked her to sit. She watched him going back and forth between the cooler and the vehicle, beads of water on his bare skin, until he finally asked her to come around. When Callie saw what he’d done, she smiled. The entire back of the truck had a spread of food like some sort of beachy buffet, their plates and utensils ready. He’d unfolded a small camping table and two chairs just beside it, and he’d even turned on a portable radio, the music playing above the sound of the wind and sea. “You’ve thought of everything,” she said. “It’s a good thing I came today.”
“It is a good thing,” he said, locking eyes with her, and she knew what he meant.
Something told her that he was in her life to stay—she couldn’t imagine not seeing him again. And she could feel how good it was.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said as he placed her glass in front of her, filled it with wine, and took the lid off the shrimp cocktail.
“I’m glad I could show you this. I can’t believe you’ve never been out here to see the horses.” He popped a shrimp in his mouth and sat down across from her, the wind blowing his hair off his forehead.
“We always just visited Gladys at her cottage.”
“And Gladys is Olivia’s grandmother, right?”
“Yeah. I’m glad I spent so much time with Olivia’s family growing up.”
The sun was on Luke’s face, making him squint just a little as he looked at her, but those blue eyes were focused. She told him about her father leaving, about her mother, and how she wished things could be different between them. “My grandmother was the one who could sort of mediate between us. She knew my mother so well that whenever I struggled with the way she was, my grandmother could always help me understand her. It was rocky to begin with but when my grandma passed, my mother and I both just sort of fell apart and our relationship never really recovered.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“I think about calling my mom sometimes. I just don’t know what to say.”
He nodded.
She liked how he listened. Olivia and Gladys were wonderful at supporting her, they were great with her, but Luke didn’t try to help her. He just quietly let her talk, and his face told her everything she needed. He was right there, taking it all in, learning about her, and hearing her with no motive other than to just be. There were a lot of things she found attractive about Luke Sullivan, but this was deeper than anything she’d experienced with him, more than she’d experienced with anyone. She was falling fast and hard for this man.
Sixteen
After spending all day with Luke and then making the long trip home, it was late when Callie got back to the cottage, and Olivia and Wyatt were asleep. She closed the door quietly.
She and Luke had stayed at the beach until dusk, nearly eight-thirty in the evening, and he finally suggested that they go while he could still see the beach to get them home. She couldn’t deny having thought that she didn’t really care if she made it home; they could always use that blanket in the back. But she’d kept her head on her shoulders and helped him pack the things into the SUV, the painting staying up front with her. She didn’t want it out of her sight for a second because today was one of the best memories she’d made so far, and that artwork would always remind her of that.
Callie clicked on the light in her bedroom and leaned the painting against the wall, admiring its beauty. After surfing, packing the SUV, and the drive, she felt exhaustion setting in. She’d had a big day and she had a lot of work ahead of her tomorrow. After a quick shower, it was time to settle in to bed.
Her mind was going at warp speed, rehashing her night, questions filling her head one after another: questions about her mom, about her life, her feelings for Luke... With an uncomfortable huff, she turned over, pulling the blanket with her, and lay on her side, her eyes wide. She wanted to turn off her thoughts, but she couldn’t, so got up and clicked on the light. Normally, reading was how she settled her mind, but she had yet to buy a book, having not had any time to read since she’d
gotten to The Beachcomber. She grabbed Alice’s journal. Maybe searching for information about Frederick would take her mind off everything.
Her eyes aching for sleep but her mind denying it, she opened up to the page where she’d stopped reading last and began.
What if this child doesn’t fit into his world? What if the child is supposed to be in our world, my world? I’m his aunt, for God’s sake, and he has no idea! This sweet baby boy has been taken from us—his family—stolen. If I allow myself to think about it, it tears me up. When I’m out, I look for him. In every stroller, in every shopping cart, on every street corner, I look, but I don’t run into him. I don’t get to see him grow up. And neither will Frederick. I don’t know how my brother can live with himself.
Baby boy? Callie stared at the black through her window, the journal only adding to the chaos in her head. With a pang of guilt, she shut the book, not feeling relaxed in the slightest by reading it. Callie set the journal down and turned off the light. In the darkness, she tried to relax and not think about anything except what she needed to get done tomorrow.
“This is beautiful,” Olivia said, holding Luke’s painting up. She leaned it against the wall and grabbed her coffee from the only side table in the room. “We should put it here in the family room. Where did you get it?”
“Luke painted it.”
Olivia’s eyes grew round as she cupped her mug with both hands. “Really?” She was standing in a T-shirt, her hair pulled off her face into a clip.
Callie nodded with a smile but she wasn’t thinking about the painting. She was thinking about yesterday. She caught herself as the back of her hand brushed her lips, reliving his kiss. She cleared her throat. “I like him,” she admitted.
With an excited smile, Olivia said, “I know you do. I can tell.” She set her coffee down. “I’m so excited for you!” She put her arms around Callie and gave her a squeeze.
“I more than like him, Olivia. He’s one of the greatest people I’ve met. He gets me and he’s kind and thoughtful.”
“I’m so glad that you’re admitting this to yourself. Feel it! Let the fireworks happen because they’re amazing.”
With a smile, Callie nodded. “You’re right.”
There was a knock interrupting their moment, and Olivia sent Callie to get it, scurrying upstairs to put on more clothes. But she was back down before Callie had even gotten to the door, having thrown on a pair of shorts, running her fingers through her hair. Callie grinned. She certainly seemed excited.
Aiden stood at the front door, a hard hat in one hand, his computer bag slung over his shoulder, and he was holding a white orchid in a small pot, wrapped in cellophane. “Oh my gosh, Aiden,” Olivia said as he handed it to her. “Orchids are my very favorite flower.”
“I remember,” he said with a grin. “You were the only college student I know who could actually keep plants alive. Most of us could hardly grow that plant that Joe had in the window. The half dead one. What was it?”
“A philodendron.” She laughed.
Callie knew how difficult orchids were to keep, yet somehow Olivia could do it. She watered them with three ice cubes once a week and she always knew the correct placement for proper light. Callie knew that because Olivia was her best friend. But what caught her attention was that Aiden had remembered it. All of a sudden she recalled how close he’d been to Olivia at the party, and his friendliness now definitely seemed like a little more.
“The crew’s on the way. They were just behind me, so we’ll be able to get going soon. We’ll have to cut the power again.”
“That’s okay,” Olivia said. “Let me get you a drink to cool you off. It’s going to get pretty hot in here once you get working. What would you like?” She started toward the kitchen and turned around. “I have iced tea, soda, milk, water…”
“Iced tea would be great.”
Callie pulled up one of the beach chairs for him and followed Olivia into the kitchen. “I’ll help you, Olivia. Have a seat, Aiden, and we’ll bring it out.” Then she hurried behind her friend.
“Olivia,” she whispered with urgency. “Did you notice what I noticed?”
“What’s that?” Olivia set the orchid on the counter and pulled a glass from the cabinet, filling it with ice.
Callie leaned into her space to pull her attention toward her. “I think Aiden might have a crush on you,” she whispered.
Olivia tipped her head back and laughed as she retrieved the pitcher of iced tea from the newly delivered fridge. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, her words coming out a little less assured than she’d planned, clearly. There was a sparkle of excitement in her eyes before she turned away from Callie.
“He brought you an orchid.”
“He was just being nice,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ve known him a long time.”
“Let’s just say that I don’t have guy friends bring me orchids.”
“He’s been thoughtful ever since I’ve known him. He always does nice things for me like that.” She returned the pitcher to the fridge.
“Oh really,” Callie said suggestively.
Olivia took the glass off the counter. “Please.” She pursed her lips, took the glass with her, and left the room, but there was a little spring to her step.
The chair in the family room was empty, Aiden’s hard hat and bag leaning against the wall. “Where did he go?” Callie asked. They checked the hallway but it was empty and the bathroom door was open.
Callie heard laughter and went to the front window. Aiden was playing catch with Wyatt. Between catches, he was throwing the ball up and catching it behind his back, making Wyatt laugh. Callie didn’t have to say anything for Olivia to understand what she was thinking.
Olivia looked back out the window, pensively. Callie knew how afraid she was of relationships—they weren’t easy when a child was involved—but, by the look on her face, Olivia might feel a little something for Aiden as well.
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Olivia said as Callie added the last pillow to the bed upstairs. The furniture had come around ten o’clock and Callie had been working frantically to get the room done, just itching to tick one item off their “to do” list. She felt as though things were coming together as she finished it.
This room was called The Windy Sails Suite, as it had its own bathroom and small sitting area attached. A few days ago, Olivia had painted the walls a light sea-foam green, and they had picked out a whitewashed bedroom set with a matching sunburst mirror that had the same finish for above the bed. The linens were a crisp white and they were complemented by tan and pink throw pillows. Callie arranged three white beach-themed sculptures on the dresser.
She stepped back with pride to view her hard work, thinking of all the people who would enjoy this room, and tugged on her shirt to cool off a little—the air was humid and stuffy. “How’s Aiden coming along downstairs?”
“The crew’s removed all the windows in the family room so our wonderful air conditioning is off for the moment. They’re about to begin demo on the back wall.” Aiden had insisted that keeping the same architectural style as the rest of the house with the large windows at the back was the way to go, but to get the greatest view, it would be best to move them a little more than he’d originally thought before adding the French doors. “You know,” she said, looking a little too casual, like she had to work at it. “Maybe we could all go out one night or something—you, Luke, Aiden, and me. That might be fun.”
“Oh really?” Callie teased.
“As friends!”
With a grin, she let it go. “Maybe.” She’d just let whatever was happening happen.
Callie decided to sit out on the beach to relax after the long day. Before she left the cottage, she grabbed the journal—she still didn’t have any quality reading material and her curiosity was winning out. What was the harm in reading it, really? She’d probably never find Frederick anyway. With a glass of wine in one hand, the journal in another, and that now fami
liar salty breeze coming off the ocean, she dropped her bag into the sand and sat down in her beach chair.
Callie opened the journal to where she’d left off, letting the late sun warm her face.
I saw him today! He’s eight...
That was Wyatt’s age.
His birthday was two weeks ago. I know the date by heart: October 20th. His front teeth have grown in—they’re too big for him, but they make his face look so much older. His blond hair is lighter than I would’ve thought, given his daddy’s complexion, but there’s no denying him. He looks just like Frederick. I walked slowly past him and he dropped his baseball. I picked it up for him before it rolled away. When I handed it back, he said, “Thank you,” and my heart almost melted. His mother hurried him along the sidewalk but I stood there and watched him go until he was out of sight. I had a scarf on my head to protect it from the wind today, and my sunglasses on. I wondered if his mother would recognize me, but she was in such a hurry, I don’t think she paid me any notice. I was glad for the scarf though. But honestly, I don’t know if she’d know me anyway.
Callie felt a connection to this little boy. She wondered what had become of him. Unable to cease her curiosity, she read the next entry.
I keep thinking of all the time I’ve missed with my nephew. Frederick may have decided against telling him who he was, but I didn’t get a choice in the matter, and he’s my family too. I would’ve liked to bake cookies with him or see him unwrap his birthday presents. I could take him on trips to the aquarium; we could build sandcastles together. Seeing him the other day was bittersweet: It was like taking a breath after being held underwater, but now, I just feel emptier. He looks like such a sweet boy. I wish I could know him.
She sat for the longest time, her finger in the journal, marking its place, thinking as the water sparkled on the horizon. Her dad had missed out on all those things too—had he had thoughts like Alice’s? What about Frederick? Why would he just leave his child? How could people do that?