by Toni Blake
He gave his head another quick shake as he hit the path that led to the driveway. This felt unreal. He hadn’t felt anything unreal since . . . Afghanistan. There, unreal shit had happened all the time—unreal shit had become a way of life. But back here, even mired in depression, not a lot had thrown him. Even since coming to Coral Cove, life had been mostly . . . predictable, steady. And the only surprises had been mostly good ones. Mostly related to Tamra. So walking out of her house in the middle of the night, suddenly knowing it would be the last time, was a little jarring.
As he’d told her, he headed for the beach. He’d grabbed his shoes on the way out, but hadn’t bothered putting them on, and it felt good, after descending the worn steps at the end of Sea Shell Lane, to sink his toes into cool sand and to let the sound of the ocean wash over him.
He headed toward the water, walked along the edge of where it met the shore, purposely keeping his feet in that soft, dry sand. Maybe there was something . . . grounding in that. He just wanted to keep feeling it as he put one foot in front of the other.
Parts of their conversation blipped in his brain. She loved him. But if he didn’t love her back, she didn’t want to see him anymore. She didn’t want anything from him he didn’t want to give. But apparently she didn’t want the things he did want to give, either.
Though maybe this was best. Because he just wasn’t into tossing the L-word around—it made things serious, no two ways about it. He just didn’t know how somebody said it without realizing that.
Everything in his life right now was new, and he was doing the best he could. He’d already committed to a job, and to moving here permanently. And he seemed to have committed to that damn cat, who would probably be weaving figure-eights around his ankles the second he walked in the door. And hell—that was enough. More than enough.
So he had a perfectly full life without Tamra in it, and he just didn’t need the kind of drama that L-word brought.
And the truth was, being alone wasn’t always so bad. There was no guesswork in being alone, no curveballs. There were no bombs being dropped—figurative or literal.
And with that thought, he closed the door on the topic. He turned his brain back to the rush of the surf and the sand beneath his feet. And sleep. Because it was late and he was tired. He banished all other thoughts from his mind.
How real that dream had been—how wonderful and clear . . .
Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
Chapter 24
TAMRA SAT in her garden drinking wine and feeling a little weepy. She’d cry a little and then stop, cry a little and then stop. It had been that way for the last two days.
She’d told Jeremy she’d be fine, and she would—eventually. But for now, things were hard. For now, she missed him.
She missed his sexy grin, she missed his smart mouth, she missed his touch, she missed his kiss.
She missed knowing she’d helped him . . . be better, get better. He’d never told her that, but she knew.
She missed having someone who wanted to be with her, who chose to be with her. She missed the simple companionship.
She missed having someone to be with who made it so . . . she didn’t have to try. At all. She could just be. She missed that comfort, that ease. She loved him, but she also sincerely liked him—she liked who he’d become with her.
And she missed the sex. She wasn’t sure when she’d have that with someone again—how she’d ever find someone she wanted to have it with again. Maybe for other women it was easier, but for Tamra . . . well, it had taken half her life for someone to come along who made her want him enough to trust him enough.
Funny that for a woman who used to downplay the importance of sex, she thought the sex she’d shared with Jeremy was about as close as you could come to heaven on earth. It had been hot and fun, but . . . more. Deeper.
Well, for her anyway.
She still didn’t know if she believed that he really didn’t love her. But it still didn’t matter much. Either way, she was content in her decision. It had, in fact, felt like a secret she’d stumbled upon and would carry with her always—to only want love, of any kind, that was freely given.
The garden felt . . . lonely now. But it was still a good place to hide, lick her wounds. In fact, she’d spent the better part of the last two days digging, weeding, loving her garden, sinking her hands into the dirt—and trying to remember the other things in her life that had moved her before Jeremy entered it.
She hadn’t spoken to Fletcher, because now that he shared his house with Kim, things were different. His attention was focused elsewhere—she understood that. But she missed her best friend right now.
Just then, her phone chimed, indicating a text message. She rushed to pick it up from the arm of the Adirondack chair, realizing as she looked that she hoped it might be from Jeremy.
Her heart sank seeing it was from Christy instead—how silly. She clicked to open it.
HEY, JUST WONDERING IF YOU’RE OKAY. WHY HAVEN’T YOU BEEN AT THE PIER?
Indeed, Tamra had skipped the Sunset Celebration the past two nights. And her friend’s concern touched her.
Her first impulse was to tell Christy she was fine, just busy, or tired or something. Her impulse was to go back behind the wall she’d had up before Jeremy had come into her garden. It was the easy way, the easy answer.
Or . . . was it?
She’d started to reply, but stopped typing. Was it easier to keep everything bottled up just because it wasn’t fun to talk about bad stuff? Was it really easier to deal with trouble—heartbreak—alone? Was it easier to sit here behind a closed gate crying into a glass of wine . . . than it was to keep on living?
After all, did she really want to go back there, behind the wall? Had it been so great? Safe maybe, but . . . the truth was, it had been kind of lonely. She just hadn’t understood that until she’d come out from behind it.
So she followed a new impulse without even weighing it.
JEREMY AND I BROKE UP. I’M IN MY GARDEN AND I WOULDN’T MIND SOME COMPANY IF YOU HAVE THE TIME. BUT IF YOU’RE BUSY, IT’S OKAY.
A moment later, another text arrived. OMG. BETHANY AND I WILL BE OVER IN FIVE, AND I JUST TEXTED CAMI, TOO.
It was the first time she’d ever invited her friends into her garden. Because she didn’t want to be alone there anymore. And because it was a place to be shared. All those Adirondack chairs proved it. This would be the first time they were filled.
“OH my God, what happened?” Christy asked, her eyes fraught with distress as she came rushing in through the gate, Bethany on her heels.
“And why haven’t I been invited over to see this beautiful garden before?” Bethany asked, clearly awed by her surroundings. “This is breathtaking. I may need to paint it.”
And as Tamra tried to think where to start, she broke into tears again.
And she pretty quickly remembered why she’d valued her solitude for so long—it was hard to cry in front of someone, even a friend; hard to let someone see you so vulnerable and raw. But Christy came over and bent down to hug her, telling her it was okay. And by the time Cami showed up, Christy was crying, too.
“Oh my God, what did he do?” Cami asked, bursting through the gate like a woman on fire. “Do I need to kill him?”
“No,” Tamra said through her tears. “He didn’t really do anything wrong. He just doesn’t love me.”
Cami’s spine went ramrod straight. “That’s wrong enough. I’m going to kill him. It’s my fault you even met him, after all.”
But Tamra was shaking her head. “No, I’m glad I met him. It was wonderful. And . . . and . . . I’m glad I love him even if he doesn’t love me. I mean, it’s kind of amazing to feel that way about someone, don’t you think? Even if they don’t appreciate it.”
“Tamra, what did he say exactly?” Christy asked softly.
“That we were just casual. That he wasn’t interested in love.”
All three women gasped their colle
ctive horror.
“Asshole,” Bethany bit off, taking a seat in one of the chairs next to the fire. Then she held up a bottle. “I brought wine.”
“I already have a bottle open,” Tamra said on a sniff.
Bethany just shrugged. “That’s okay—we’re gonna need more.”
Over the course of the next half hour, Cami filled her girlfriends in on what had happened. How she’d so haphazardly professed her feelings, only to have Jeremy not return them, and why she’d had to end things with him.
“He’s a fool,” Christy proclaimed. Then sighed. “I’m only sorry he got so good-looking, since this might have been easier if he’d still been rocking the homeless vibe.”
“But you’re so wise,” Bethany told her reverently. “As in, you’re my new hero.”
Tamra blinked, caught off guard. “Really?” The truth was, she hadn’t expected them to understand how she’d felt, why she’d sent him away.
“If it had been me, I’d have probably hung on for dear life,” Bethany confessed. “Because love is just so . . .”
“Intoxicating,” Cami replied.
And they all nodded, and Bethany went on. “It’s so potent that you just want more and more of that feeling, even when it’s not good for you or not going the way you want. It’s . . . blinding,” she said. “But you’re not blind. You’re smart. Smart enough to walk away and keep your dignity. I dig that, man.”
They were deep into the second bottle of wine—and Christy had just suggested they were going to need a third—when Tamra caught Cami giving her the strangest look, so much so that she asked, “What?”
And Cami said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being so real with us about this. For just . . . letting it all out. You wouldn’t have done that a few months ago. And I know this is awful, and my heart is breaking for you, but in another way, it’s . . . nice. To be your friend this way.”
And that nearly started Tamra crying again, but she girded herself this time, and got all the more honest. “A few months ago, I wouldn’t even let anyone into this garden with me.”
“It’s beautiful,” Cami said, looking around, clearly taking in the lights and windchimes in the trees. “I’m glad you did. And I hope we’ll be here a lot now.”
“You will be, I promise,” Tamra told her. “Because the thing I’m learning is . . . it feels better to cry with friends than to be strong alone.”
“Oh wow,” Bethany said, hand to her heart. “Hero. Role model. You need to teach a class or something, girlfriend. You’ve so got it goin’ on.”
“Only I didn’t before,” Tamra said, shaking her head. “Not until now. And the really awful, tragic thing is—it was Jeremy who helped me open up and quit being afraid of letting people in. But he doesn’t love me!” More tears sprang from her eyes.
And as Cami and Christy offered soothing sounds of comfort, Christy reaching out from the chair beside her to squeeze her hand, Bethany said through clenched teeth, “Oh, the hideous irony.”
“But . . . it’s kind of poetic,” Christy suggested sadly.
“In a tragic way,” Cami agreed.
And that was what Tamra felt. A tragic loss. And she knew it wasn’t tragic really. It wasn’t death and destruction. It wasn’t the horrible things Jeremy had endured in war. It was only love. But it still hurt like hell to love someone who didn’t want you to, and who didn’t love you back. “I put my heart on the table and he smashed it with his fist,” Tamra whimpered. Then added, “Though I think this is partially the wine talking. Making it extra dramatic.”
“Know what you need?” Bethany said.
Tamra looked up, across the fire at her. “What?”
“A new guy.”
“I don’t want a new guy,” she whined. “I want the one I had.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Bethany said, rejecting the thought with a swipe of her elaborately manicured hand down through the air. “A new guy makes you feel good. A new guy gives you something else to think about. A new guy is always a good idea.”
“This soon?” Tamra asked, aghast at the thought. Then she let out a sigh. “But why am I even worried? There aren’t exactly new men coming out of the woodwork around Coral Cove.”
“True,” Cami agreed, “but I believe you said something very similar right before Jeremy showed up.”
She gasped. “Crap, you’re right.” Then blew out a tired breath.
“Just . . . be open to the new,” Bethany suggested. “Because you never know when something new is going to arrive.”
The truth was, Tamra didn’t think a new man was going to magically appear on the horizon. And the further truth was, even if he did, she didn’t think she’d be ready to dive right back into the dating pool while she was still in love with the ex-Marine up the road.
But there was a whole new truth inside her now, too: While she knew in her heart that no one would be a substitute for Jeremy, she also knew she no longer wanted to be a woman who sat around waiting for life to happen to her.
So she meant it with her whole heart when she said, “Okay. I’ll be open to the new.”
And then her heart broke a little more, remembering that she’d just lost a guy who she truly thought she could be happy with, and what a rare commodity that kind of love really was.
But he doesn’t want my love. And I refuse to let heartbreak paralyze me again. No matter how bad it hurts.
THE following Saturday morning marked the Coral Cove Mini-Golf Paradise’s festive grand opening. A sizable crowd of Coral Cove residents were in attendance, the large Grand Opening banner waved in the breeze, and colorful balloons dotted the course.
Before golfing officially began, though, Cami took the microphone she’d hooked up and thanked everyone for coming. “Welcome everyone!” she said to the crowd at large. “Look at this place! Isn’t it amazing?”
And Tamra had to agree. She’d always been confident it would turn out well, but now that all the finishing touches were in place, she couldn’t have been more pleased. The retro miniature golf course was the perfect addition to their beach community.
Of course, the only downer was that she was standing next to Jeremy. Because they had spearheaded the project together, Cami insisted on thanking them. “I know it will be a little awkward,” she’d told Tamra, “but it only makes sense. You both worked hard on it and you should both be there to celebrate it, regardless of your relationship outside the job.”
And since this had been planned for weeks, it would have been hard to disagree—and even harder to not show up and let Jeremy think he’d destroyed her that much.
So far, the two of them had exchanged only murmured hellos. So, yeah, it was awkward. And seeing him brought on a sense of loss she felt in her bones. But she’d survive. Cami had promised this part would only take a few minutes. And besides, they lived in the same tiny town; she would run into him sometimes, so she might as well get used to it.
Now Cami announced that there were free hot dogs and face painting, and that later there would be a hole-in-one contest and door prizes.
“What are they gonna paint on kids’ faces?” Jeremy muttered, sounded truly perplexed. “Golf balls?”
And when she least expected it, Tamra smiled. Though she tossed him only a short look. “Probably animals or something.”
“Mmm,” Jeremy replied, tipping his head back slightly. Then added dryly, “Probably cats.”
Tamra listened to Cami for a few more seconds before saying to Jeremy, “You could probably request a dog. Since you’re such a dog guy and all.”
She caught the quick, quietly amused glance he tossed her way. He didn’t crack a smile as he said, “Maybe I will. I think it would look good on me.”
“Captain wouldn’t let you back in the door, though.”
“Captain’s not the boss of me,” he assured her. But she had a feeling Captain was the boss of Jeremy a little more than Jeremy even knew. She kept that to herself, thoug
h.
“Before we start playing golf,” Cami was saying, “I have an exciting announcement! Another new business will soon be erected in our humble town, at the south end of the beach”—she pointed—“and right on the water. Jack DuVall, proprietor of our wonderful new miniature golf course, has just agreed to finance an establishment called the Barefoot Bar! The Barefoot Bar will offer a full bar with beer, wine, and specialty drinks along with a small menu of burgers and other light fare. The laid-back open-air restaurant will be the perfect place for drinks after the Sunset Celebration or to have a light lunch or dinner while enjoying Coral Cove Beach. In the words of Kenny Chesney, no shirt, no shoes, no problem. Sun Coast Construction has been hired as builder, and groundbreaking is scheduled for late next summer.”
The crowd applauded before Cami continued with, “Jack and his fiancée, Christy, will christen our quaint little course here by playing the first game on it”—though this made Tamra and Jeremy exchange quick glances before turning their eyes back on Cami.
“First, though, we would be remiss if we didn’t thank the two people who made this course a reality. Tamra Day designed the entire course from the layout to the landscaping and color scheme. She even designed the gorgeous retro sign at the entrance. We’re so lucky to have such a versatile and creative artist in our midst.” Cami extended her hand Vanna White style. “And beside Tamra is Jeremy Sheridan, who provided the craftsmanship and hard labor. Jeremy built everything you see here, including the miniature buildings and other props on the holes, and he also served as a Jack-of-all-trades, pitching in on landscaping and anything else Tamra needed from him.”
At that last part, Cami flicked a glance at Tamra, cringing slightly, apparently hearing her own double entendre—though it would have passed unnoticed had she not sent the glance and the cringe.
“So let’s give these two a big round of applause for creating this wonderful golf course!” she finished. Finally.
“Smile and wave a little,” Jeremy said under his breath and Tamra realized he was already doing those things, so she did, too. As opposed to standing there looking mildly horrified, stuck back on the idea of Jeremy giving her what she needed.