by Kim Loraine
Sloan smiled and held up the wine and brownies. “Sloan. I live across the street. You don’t happen to like wine and chocolate, do you?”
Grace passed the baby to Drew and grabbed the wine. “Bless you.”
“I’ll just . . . put this little chap to bed then, love. Pour me a glass?”
She smiled and nodded as her husband headed toward the stairs. “Sloan . . . wait, Sloan Carmichael?”
Sloan’s gut clenched. No. Grace can’t possibly know who she was as well. “It’s Thomas now. Carmichael was my maiden name. I’m sorry, I don’t . . . I don’t remember you.”
Grace smiled. “Grace McConnell. I graduated a few years before you. I used to date Michael Oliver’s brother, John.”
“Oh, I heard about his death. I’m so sorry.” Then it hit her. Drew looked startlingly like John. “But, your husband—”
“Drew and John were twins. They were adopted separately. It’s . . . a really long story.”
Sloan didn’t know how to respond, but it seemed like Grace held no animosity toward her. She took a breath to steady herself and made the leap. “I don’t mean to impose on you guys. I just moved in to my place a few weeks ago myself. I wish someone had brought me wine at the end of such a long day.” Sloan followed Grace into the kitchen and smiled at the utter chaos of move-in day.
“You’re not imposing. Honestly, I needed a break or I’d have spent all night trying to unpack and make sense of all this. An international move with three kids isn’t easy, no matter where you’re going.”
She watched as Grace rifled through a box until she produced a corkscrew. “Where did you come from?”
“England. I met Drew there five years ago when I was hired to help restore his hometown.” Sloan must’ve given Grace a confused look because she followed up with, “I’m an architect. I specialize in restoration projects. We lived in a little town outside of London.”
“Wow. I’ve always wanted to go to the UK. Why did you move back?”
A sad look flashed over Grace’s face before she turned her attention to opening the wine. “My mom died. I wanted to be close to my dad. So . . . here we are.”
“Here we are, indeed,” Drew said, coming into the kitchen and pulling Grace close. “And what an adventure it’s already shaping up to be.” He opened a box and unwrapped three mugs before washing them. “I hope you’re not bothered we aren’t breaking out the crystal. Everything seems to still be wrapped and I figured you ladies would be more interested in the wine rather than the glasses.”
“How about you?” Grace asked, pouring wine into a mug with the words, Likes Time Lords, scrawled across the front. “You said you just moved here, too.”
“I did. My grandfather died about a year ago and left me his house. It took me a while to decide not to sell the place. I haven’t been back in fifteen years, but it was time for a change.”
Grace handed her the mug and filled her own. “It seems the same as it always was.”
“It really does. Aside from a few new places, Golden Beach is still the perfect little beach town.”
A wistful smile turned up the corner of Grace’s mouth before she took a sip of her wine. “So, what do you do?”
“I’m a teacher. I’m about to start at the elementary for the school year.”
“Really? My best friend is a teacher there. Valerie Miller. Have you met her?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve heard her name. Didn’t she have a baby? I don’t think she’ll be back until next month.”
“She did. She and her husband adopted. I can’t wait to meet the little guy.”
“I do love babies. Something about their sweet snuggles gets me.”
Grace assessed her. “Is there a Mr. Sloan we get to meet?”
Cheeks heating, Sloan took a gulp from her mug. “No. No husband. I got divorced a few years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
She let out an easy laugh as she waved away Grace’s apology. “No. It’s no big deal. Like I said, it was time for a change. Believe me, I’m better off without him and he’s already moved on.” Her chest tightened at the thought of her failed marriage. It had been a mistake from the beginning, but she’d been so tired of waiting for the perfect man.
Sloan placed her cup in the sink, rinsed it out, and wiped her hands. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. It was really nice meeting you two. If you need anything, feel free to stop by. I won’t start work for another week.”
Grace and Drew walked her to the door, leaving her with an invitation to join them for coffee the next morning. As she headed home, her heart felt a little lighter at the knowledge that a friendship had been forged. Maybe moving back to Golden Beach wasn’t going to be as lonely as she’d thought after all.
Chapter 3
Fifteen years ago
“Sullivan, your mom was on the phone. She wants you to pick up some stuff for dinner after your shift,” Mr. Rickson, his boss called out over the intercom, his booming voice filling the aisles of the small grocery store.
A few snickers reached his ears. Two kids from school stood not ten feet from him. “Tell your mom we say hi,” one of them teased.
“Yeah, what’s for dinner, Sully?”
Hands balled into fists, he took deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. They didn’t deserve his attention. With his dad out to sea and his big brother Dex finishing his last year of college, it was up to Sully to help take care of the household. That meant bringing home dinner if that’s what his mom needed.
Christmas music played as he finished restocking the shelves and checking the expiration dates in the dairy case. In a few hours, he’d have an entire week off for the holiday. A week with nothing but Sloan to occupy his time. Just the thought of her made him smile. Asking her out two months ago had been the best thing he’d ever done. They’d been taking things slow, really getting to know each other, but he already knew—they were meant to be. This was more than what his mom called, high school puppy love. It had to be. This was true and rare and forever.
By the time he got off work, Sully was itching to see Sloan. His stomach flipped at the prospect of her lips on his. He could almost taste her strawberry ChapStick.
“What’s got that stupid grin on your face?” Dex’s voice caught him by surprise, bringing him out of his fantasy and back to the grocery store parking lot. His brother leaned against the bumper of Sully’s beat up old Ford Escort. A welcome sight, but a surprise nonetheless.
“Dex? What are you doing here? I thought you were spending Christmas with Jess.”
A dark look crossed his brother’s face. “We broke up.”
“Really? What happened?”
Dex ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. “I told him I was going to join the Marines.”
“He wasn’t cool with that?”
“Nah. Don’t ask, don’t tell isn’t his thing. Jess doesn’t want to hide who we are. I don’t blame him.”
Dex and Jess had been dating for the last two years. He’d even brought Jess home for a visit last summer. Their mom had been thrilled. Jess was good for Dex. “I’m so sorry.”
Dex’s jaw flexed as he stood to his full height and took a deep breath. “Better that it happened now.”
“Does Mom know you’re here?” Sully knew when to drop a topic with his brother. The look on Dex’s face made it clear. The conversation about Jess was over.
“Nope. Thought I’d give her an early Christmas gift.” He held his arms out wide and grinned.
“Dirty laundry and another son with an endless appetite?”
He winked. “Exactly.”
“She’ll be really happy.”
“I know, dipshit. That’s why I’m here.”
A large gray duffel bag
sat propped up on the side of Sully’s car. He frowned. “How’d you get here?”
“Bus.”
“You walked here from the bus station?”
Dex laughed, hitching the bag up on his shoulder. “It’s not that far.”
With a shake of his head, Sully unlocked the trunk. “Get in, Mom’s waiting for me to bring this stuff home for dinner.”
As Sully drove, he thought of Sloan, wondered what she was doing, what she was thinking about, and most of all, if she was thinking of him.
“Okay, who is she?”
His cheeks heated at the question, but he couldn’t keep anything from his brother. “Her name is Sloan. We’ve been together a couple of months. I think . . .” He took a deep breath. “I think I love her, man.”
Dex let out a heavy sigh. “I thought I loved Jess. Don’t rush it, baby brother. She’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, but there’s a lot of time between now and the end of the school year. You’ve got a lot ahead of you, college, the real world, and you’re both going to do a lot of changing.”
That wasn’t what Sully wanted to hear. He needed his brother to tell him not to let her get away, to hold on tight and make her his. “I don’t know if college is right for me. I was thinking of going to the fire academy.”
Dex nodded. “But you’re still going to change. By the time life has tossed you around a little, you two will be different.”
Sully stayed quiet the rest of the drive as he tried to keep the last thing Dex said out of his mind. Unfortunately, the words had already wormed their way into his heart and sowed the seed of doubt. They were going to change, but they would do that together.
A few hours later, after sharing dinner with his family, Sully sat on his bed looking at the wrapped present he’d had on his dresser for weeks. He’d never liked a girl enough to buy her something like this, but Sloan was special. He wanted this gift to be something she’d treasure and always keep. Unable to wait any longer, he pulled on his coat and stowed the gift in his pocket. He bounded down the stairs and grabbed his keys.
“Where are you going?” his mom asked from her spot on the couch. She was curled up with a blanket, reading a paperback. “It’s late.”
After a quick glance at the clock, he rolled his eyes. “It’s not even eight. I’m going to see Sloan.”
“Okay, honey. Be safe.”
“Love you, Mom.”
She smiled. “Love you, too, baby.”
His heart raced as he drove through town and the pace only increased when he turned into the gated community where Sloan’s family lived. She’d given him the gate code a few weeks ago, but he still felt out of place as he punched in the five digits and waited for the large wall of bars to roll away. His piece of shit car made too much noise, the dents and scratches seeming even more obvious in comparison to the pristine lawns and sprawling homes. No one parked their cars on the street or even in their driveways here. Each expensive car was tucked safely away in a spacious garage.
After a few deep breaths to steady himself, he parked in the circular driveway of the largest house in the neighborhood and turned off the engine. He’d been here plenty of times, but it never got easier. The Carmichaels were . . . intimidating. Maybe it was because Sloan’s dad was the mayor—or at least, he would be for the next few months. Rich people were just different. But Sloan wasn’t like them. She never made him feel like his blue-collar life wasn’t good enough.
As he walked to the front door, he prayed Sloan would answer. He should have called first. Then she could have met him outside and they’d already be in his car, headed for somewhere they could just be them. He rang the doorbell, taking a few more deep breaths and patting his pocket again to make sure Sloan’s present was still there while he waited.
The door opened and the formidable figure of Mayor Richard Carmichael stood in front of him. The man was enormous and the frown on his face could wither anyone on the spot. Not wanting to appear as nervous as he felt, Sully stood tall and looked the man in the eyes.
“Mr. Carmichael. Hello. Is Sloan here?” He was proud of himself for not letting his voice crack through his nerves.
“Is my daughter expecting you, Mr. Sullivan?”
Sully opened his mouth to speak, but Sloan ducked around her father. “I am, Daddy. I forgot to tell you. Carson is taking me out for coffee at Cups, then we’re studying for our French test.”
Mr. Carmichael’s brow creased in an even deeper frown, but he said, “Home by ten.”
Sully nodded, and when Sloan laced her fingers with his, a sense of calm flooded him.
“I have to grab my bag and coat. I’ll meet you at the car,” Sloan said, leaning toward him and rising on tiptoe before she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
Her father growled from his place in the doorway but Sully studiously avoided his gaze as he walked toward the car. The man was terrifying, but he was just a man. Nothing would keep him from loving Sloan. Not her father, not fear of the future.
~ ~ ~
Sloan stared at her name on the board as she soaked up the quiet classroom after a long day. She frowned at the Mrs. Thomas she’d opted to use. Though she wasn’t married anymore, she’d kept the surname, hoping to put some distance between herself and her parents. Being the daughter of the town’s disgraced mayor had left the Carmichael name a stain on her record. She wanted to give herself a chance to separate the past from the present, however fleeting it might be. A soft knock on her open door brought her back from those memories.
“Hey, Sloan. How did the first week go?” Beckett Richardson leaned against the doorframe, a sexy smile on his full lips.
“I survived.”
“You look amazing. Especially after a week with twenty-six second graders.”
Was he flirting? His gaze raked over her body, sending warmth rushing up her cheeks. Yes. This was definitely flirting. “You don’t look so bad yourself. But, sixth graders are easy.”
He cocked a dark eyebrow and laughed. “I’ll trade you any day.”
She held up her hands and shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll take hero worship over prepubescence every time.”
Beckett stood straighter and tugged on his rolled-up sleeve, clearing his throat. “Um, do you . . . do you have any plans tonight?”
Oh, God. He was asking her out. Did she want to start something with a coworker? “I . . . not—”
“It’s just, a bunch of us are heading to a bonfire. You know, the weather is still nice and it’s the end of the first week. We like to cut loose every once in a while. I thought you might like to come.”
Okay, so he wasn’t asking her out. Embarrassment flooded her.
“You don’t have to come. I just wanted to make sure you knew you were welcome.”
“What time?”
His eyes lit at her question. Oh, he was interested, that was certain. But, was she interested in him?
“You can ride with me. We’re leaving for the beach from here in about thirty minutes.”
The prospect of being with him, in his car, close enough to smell his cologne, made her nervous and excited at the same time. She hadn’t been with anyone since her divorce two years ago. Marrying Brent had been a mistake. A short-lived attempt at moving forward.
“Sloan?”
Beckett’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Sure. That sounds good.”
His answering smile made her stomach do a slight flip. He’d seemed like a good guy from the beginning, and there was definitely a tiny spark between them. She just wasn’t certain she was ready to fan the flame.
Thirty minutes later she sat in Beckett’s convertible, top down, speeding toward the beach. The wind whipped her hair around her face, but she didn’t care. A carefree feeling took hold as she closed her eyes and
tilted her head back. The salty air of the seaside hit her, reminding her of so many lazy afternoons spent on this very beach—with Carson Sullivan. No. She didn’t want to think of him. She’d put it all behind her—the pain, the horrible things they’d said to each other, the tears. None of that mattered anymore. They were different people now. No longer the two stupid kids who’d thought they could beat the odds and stay together after high school. She hadn’t seen him since he’d pulled her from the library over a month ago, and if she had her way, she wouldn’t encounter him again. It hurt too much to look at him.
Beckett parked and helped her from the car, placing his hand at the small of her back as they walked down the well-worn path toward the already gathered group. Lots of people she recognized from staff meetings and lunch breaks milled around laughing and talking as the sun began its slow descent.
“You want a hot dog? I saw some on the grill.” Beckett’s hopeful expression made her even more sure this was more than just a polite invite.
“Sure.”
She stood on the outside looking in while the party began to ramp up. A few of her colleagues were people she’d grown up with, but thankfully, they hadn’t given her a hard time about her history. Livia might have been an anomaly. At least, that’s what Sloan hoped. The metallic twang of an acoustic guitar floated down the beach, catching her attention. Intrigued, she walked across the sand and followed the music, but stopped as soon as it became obvious she’d come across someone’s beachfront property. It wasn’t clearly marked, but she still felt strange being in their space.
Before she turned and walked back to her group, she took in the scene. A blond woman played an intricate guitar piece while a handsome, dark haired man tapped out a rhythm on the table in front of him. They looked vaguely familiar, and when the two of them started singing, her heart nearly dropped to her feet. She forgot all about giving them privacy. This duo was two-thirds of Panic Station. Angela and Garrett had been in middle school when she’d left Golden Beach, but word spread like wildfire about their band’s success.