Because she’s the one who got away.
“Daddy,” River says, tugging on my hand. “Can we go surfing later?”
I jerk my gaze from the memorial display to my ten-year-old daughter standing beside me. Her stormy-blue eyes are so like mine, and my heart fills with a love that I can barely comprehend. This child, this sweet little surfer girl holds my heart in her tiny hands.
Maybe, I should reconsider my stance on what life is. I’m sure River wouldn’t appreciate it. She’s all sunshine and good vibes, reminding me of Laird at every turn. I shouldn’t be shocked. He always had time for River, treated her like his little sister instead of his niece, and spent nearly every single day with her.
“Daddy!”
I smile tightly and we walk to my truck, leaving everyone behind. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
“We need the ocean to make us feel better. Laird always said it could wash sadness away.”
My heart stutters. “He did?”
River fiddles with a silver bracelet, one that Ophelia made for her, as I unlock the door. “Yup. Ophelia says it’s true.”
“Who am I to disagree.”
“My mother would. She says it’s dangerous and that no ten-year-old should be out in it.”
“River,” I warn. “There’s no need to—"
“You know she said it.”
I do know, but I also can’t let a child have the upper hand when it comes to her parents. “She loves you and is concerned.”
River crosses her arms, not budging an inch. “She didn’t care last year. Or the year before that.”
With a sigh, I crouch down. “Baby duck, I know all that, but you—we have to give her a chance. She made a mistake and now she wants to make up for it.”
Honestly, I don’t want to give Laken a chance at all, but it’s not about me and what I want. It’s about River and... making sure she has all the love and support a child can get in this cruel world.
“I liked it better when it was just us.” River pushes out her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes. “I liked it better before Laird got lost.”
I gather her to me in a hug, rubbing her small back. “I did, too, surfer girl. I did too.”
*
By the time we get to the beach, it’s late in the afternoon. “Thirty minutes, surfer girl, and that’s it.”
River nods. “Shark feeding time after that.”
We strap on our cuffs, inspect our boards, and when I say the word, we run like hell into the surf. My daughter’s high-pitched giggle makes me laugh. There’s nothing like it in the world.
“Swim hard,” I order, keeping an eye on the waves and her as I follow—no easy feat but I did have years and years of practice with my siblings.
“This one is mine,” she shouts, turning her board so that it’s facing the beach.
“Paddle hard, River!” I cheer her on, watching as she pops up on the board, perfectly balanced with her dark hair in wet braids down her back. “That’s it, baby duck!”
I pump my fist into the air as she hits the shore. She jumps out of the water, her board in hand and motions for me to catch the next wave. We keep this up until the sun starts to dip and her little lips are turning blue.
“We’ve overstayed. Best get to shore now.” Fortunately, River knows the rules of the ocean and that I have final say, so she doesn’t protest.
“That was so rad, Daddy,” she says as we shove our boards in the sand and grab some towels to dry off. “I’m so hungry.”
“Packed up a snack.” I nod at the basket under our umbrella.
“Ophelia!” River squeals, running to her as she emerges from the boardwalk. “Over here!”
Ophelia smiles, gives River a small wave and walks to us. As usual, she’s carrying a beach bag filled with her tools of the trade. “I didn’t know y’all would be here.”
“Last minute change of plans.” I offer her an empty beach chair. “You’re welcome to work on your jewelry with us.”
“Actually, I think I’ll eat with you two first.” She sits and rummages through her large bag, pulling out a smaller bag. “I didn’t eat lunch.”
River pops grapes into her mouth and plops down on a towel. “I’m always hungry after we surf.”
“Growing, strong girls need lots of energy to surf another day,” Ophelia says, but I notice she doesn’t open the bag containing said missed lunch. Instead she reaches into her bag again and pulls out a crumpled envelope. “I think you need to read this.”
I eye her extended arm. “Is this about Laird?”
“Yes and no.” She shakes the envelope at me. “Read it Duke before I change my mind and burn it.”
With a grimace, I take it from her and pull the letter out. I don’t recognize the handwriting, but it looks feminine...unless Deacon wrote it. He has the fanciest handwriting I’ve ever seen. My name jumps out at me, specifically, the line about storm clouds following me.
I suck in a breath.
It can’t be... I open the letter fully, so I can read the signature. “Son of a...” My gaze slices first to River, who has a pair of ear buds in while she listens to songs on her iPod, and then to Ophelia. “You were going to burn this?”
She shrugs. “You haven’t seen her in ten years, I wasn’t sure if it was worth the pain.”
My thumb caresses True’s name, even as that familiar hurt claws its way out of the locked recesses of my heart. “She’s always worth the pain,” I murmur.
“You can keep it then.” Ophelia frowns. “She’ll be here next month, on the third.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s in the letter.”
My heart kicks against my chest, revved up by the hope of seeing True again. I scan the letter, searching for more clues about True’s visit and my heart stops. The Princes are selling their family home and Prince United Shipping.
“But that would mean...” It would mean that once this last bit of True’s family is gone from Royal Bay, I have no chance in hell of ever seeing her again.
“You’re getting a second chance.” Standing, Ophelia hoists her bag. “Don’t let pride get in your way, Duke.”
“I have no pride when it comes to her.” I swallow hard. “None.”
My sister-in-law cocks a dark brow. “Then why didn’t you go after her in the past ten years?”
I gesture to River. “Kinda busy raising a kid on my own and running a company that the IRS was hell-bent on taking from us. Also, keeping you and Laird out of trouble was a full-time job on its own.”
A ghost of a smile pushes up Ophelia’s lips. “You have me there, and I guess I mostly understand.”
“Thank—”
“But do you think True will?”
“I don’t know, but it’s worth it to me to find out.” I carefully fold the letter back into the envelope and put it away so it doesn’t get wet. “Leaving already?”
“I’m not fit for company, yet.” Ophelia ruffles River’s hair and walks away, leaving a trail of footprints behind her as she skirts the shoreline.
“Why does Ophelia walk here every evening?” River suddenly asks, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“She’s hoping.”
River’s small hand slips into mine as she joins me. She leans her head against me and I swear that the weight of her is the most comforting feeling in the world. “Hoping for what?”
I think of True’s smile, of the way she would laugh with joy, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “A miracle.”
Chapter 19
True
It’s been one month since the memorial for Laird took place.
I flew in for the service, sneaked in the back row at the last minute and left right after the last prayer was said. My heart broke for the boy I knew, for the girl who loved him, and for the kids I spent a perfect summer getting to know while I dated their brother.
I had to pay my respects, but I couldn’t face the King family. Luckily, no one saw me. Although, I did let Ophelia
know I’d be there. We didn’t have time to talk, other than through text messages.
Now... now I’m not sure so I’ll get out of Castle Beach or Royal Bay without notice.
I drive the extremely large, retro black convertible—top down, of course, along the tree-lined streets of Royal Bay, my mind on the one man who has never left me. Well, never left me in my dreams, anyway.
Honestly, he didn’t leave me at all. I’d been the one to leave.
My heart pinches at the thought, so hard and so painful that it shocks me. I didn’t realize that simply thinking about him could do so much damage. After all, he hadn’t been the one to leave ten years ago, that was all me.
Now I’m back. A sort of homecoming on my part, if you will, without all the fanfare of a church picnic. Only it’s not fall, barely anyone knows I’m in town, and my goal is to get my parents’ house in order and staged to put on the market, then haul tail back to Scottsdale before anyone’s the wiser.
By anyone, I mean Duke King.
After ten years, I should be completely over him. It’s not like I pined for him from across the country, never dating and remaining an old maid who collected cats and books.
Okay, so I do collect books, but as for the rest, I tried. I really, really tried to fall in love again
My only problem? I measured every man against Duke and almost all of them came up short.
Linc was the only one who came close, but in the end, we broke off our engagement because he refused to compete with the man who owned my heart.
Until those words were spoken eight months ago, I never thought about it that way. I never thought that my heart had never come back to me once I left North Carolina all those years ago.
This is exactly why I need to break all ties to home. A clean break, with no reason at all to come back to Royal Bay or Castle Beach. I found love once, thought I had it with Linc, so it stands to reason that I’ll meet another man, this time without anything to tie me to my past.
With a deep sigh, I pull the black convertible into the driveway of my childhood home, warm, soft memories replacing the sharp, cold ones. A smile replaces my frown and I hop out of my car, house keys in hand.
There’s a sign in the front yard that reads, Coming Soon with a picture of my realtor, along with her number and website, but that’s the only thing that’s changed about the yard or the house.
The flowerbeds are elegantly overgrown, the front porch deep—perfect for porch parties with friends—, and the crepe myrtles still line the driveway. There are brick pavers, placed close enough together so that a child could pretend that they were lily pads and hop her way to the front door.
Yes, that child might have been me.
With a tight smile, I follow the path, not hopping, this time. After punching in the code to unlock the door, I pause, remembering all the amazing times that were had in my childhood home. All the parties, all the friends... all the love and all the laughter.
Finally, I open the door, the scent of my childhood—cinnamon, magnolias, and pine—steals over me. I take a deep breath and sigh, my chest no longer tight with anxiety. My heart stops pounding and gradually subsides to its normal cadence.
I don’t want to leave. I want to lock myself in the memories.
A part of me wishes that my parents hadn’t decided to permanently move to Scottsdale. A part of me wishes that they’d never fallen in love with the people, the culture, or the rugged beauty of the desert.
That’s the part that must reconcile herself to leaving everything behind, once and for all.
So here I am, at their request, and like a dutiful daughter who hates telling her parents no, ready to get the house in order so that it sells quickly, and I can return to my life and my job in Arizona.
I head upstairs to my old room, the door slightly ajar. Nothing has changed in here. It’s as if I walked back into my high school days. While it’s been cleaned, the duvet is the same gold and white, along with matching pillows and curtains. The corkboard with pictures of friends and certificates of achievement are still pinned in place.
It’s so odd because I’m no longer friends with those girls, although I do like their photos and videos on Instagram. Sunny should be in those pictures with me, is my first thought, but I have a ton of us from college and beyond.
Plus, I’m the godmother to her and her husband Kwame’s four kids. They are blissfully in love and completely happy living as expats in Japan—a recent move that shocked but did not surprise me. My bestie and I love to travel, always had that in common, but I thought with the kids, with her husband’s position as the Chief of Medicine that she’d stay close to Scottsdale or at least stay on the West Coast.
Sure, I visit as often as I can, and they fly out to California to visit with family and to Arizona to see me as well, but it’s not the same as talking to her every day or spur of the moment Aunt True comes for the weekend trips... or even our girls’ weekend that Kwame helped coordinate when Sunny needed non-mommy time.
I miss Sunny something fierce, especially right now, when I’m saying goodbye to my entire past.
The last time I was anywhere near Castle Beach, Sunny had my back. She knew what I needed to hear, not just what I wanted to hear. Plus, she kept me grounded in reality when I got too caught up in the past.
My phone rings. It’s my realtor, so I answer it.
“Hi, Carrie.”
“Good news. We have a very motivated buyer who would like to see the house right now.”
“As in right this second?” I ask, horrified.
Sure the house is clean, but I’m not ready to sell it yet. I mean, I will be, but to be done this soon is unexpected.
“I hear your panic and want to assure you that this is a matter of time constraints for the buyer. However, it’s not done until you sign the dotted line.”
I blow out a breath. “How about give me thirty minutes to at least air it out a bit?”
“Absolutely. I’ll let the buyer’s agent know.”
“Great. Thank you.”
“Bye now.” She ends our call.
Setting a timer for twenty-five minutes on my phone, I make a mad dash around the house, trying to be a tornado with a purpose. Or rather, the opposite of one, causing organization rather than destruction.
I open the last window in the kitchen when the doorbell rings. I glance at the timer. It’s only been fifteen minutes!
The doorbell rings again.
“I guess the buyer is super-duper motivated,” I mutter under my breath, then paste a smile on my face before opening the door with a flourish.
“Hi, I’m True. Sorry about still being here. I’ll get out of the...”
My words die in my throat.
My face heats.
My knees shake.
My heart, well my heart pounds against my chest in a happy rhythm that leaves me suddenly breathless.
He’s here.
Standing on my front porch—ten years older.
A thousand times as handsome.
A million times more heartbreaking.
Finally, I find my voice again and place my hands on my hips, cocking an eyebrow to appear confident instead of weak. “Duke King, what in the world are you doing here?”
Chapter 20
Duke
“Happened to be in the neighborhood,” I lie, shocked that I can speak at all.
My Sunshine looks the same, all golden and brown. Warm, inviting eyes. Full lips made for kissing me, and a body with curves so sweet that I fight the urge to fall to my feet and worship her.
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Would you doubt that I’m here to see you?”
Her sassy stance wobbles. “I don’t know.”
“I went to a lot of trouble to guarantee that I could see you today,” I confess. “A hell of a lot.”
“Don’t tell me...you’re the motivated buyer,” she says and her mouth quirks.
“Oh good, you’re here.” I crane my head aro
und to watch as my realtor marches across the yard, waving and smiling at us. “I’m Margaret Vance. Usually, the owners aren’t home when we show the house, but if you don’t mind, I’ll get Mr. King started.”
True moves to one side, letting Margaret in the house. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I have a ton of things—”
“Tour it with us—I insist.”
True’s eyes widen. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you stick around long enough so we can talk.”
She lets out a hmpf. “You’ve had ten years to talk to me.”
Fair enough.
“Okay, so this is the foyer, original to the structure, which was built in sixteen forty, and as you can see, the original flooring is made of heart of pine,” Margaret begins and True starts to inch away.
“I’ll take it. Write up an offer—full price.”
True’s eyes narrow at me. “Stop it.”
“Amend that to ten thousand over asking.”
“Oh my. I’ll get right on that.”
“Not accepted.” True tosses her head, and I swear I want to pin her against the wall and kiss the sass right out of her.
“Twenty thousand over.”
“Well, um, perhaps, we should get Ms. Prince’s agent involved—“
“Fifty over.”
There’s a gleam in True’s eyes when she says, “I can’t be bought. Your money is worthless to me”
“What about my time?”
She bites her lip. “Maybe.”
Margaret clears her throat. “Perhaps I should step out and let the two of you work this out.”
“No.”
“Great,” I counter. “Call Ms. Prince’s agent. We’ll wait.”
Margaret moves outside, phone glued to her ear. I doubt that anyone’s answered it, yet.
“You have five minutes.”
Panic sets in, along with a healthy dose of determination. “Not long enough.”
“Four minutes.”
“When did you get so—?”
“Three.”
“I’ll retract my offer if you agree to spend the day with me. Just today and after that, if you can’t forgive me, then I won’t bother you again.” Yeah, I’m the biggest liar on the planet because there is no way in hell I’m ever going to let her go again.
Picture Perfect Summer Page 11