The Reality of Everything (Flight & Glory)

by Rebecca Yarros

  I blew my breath out in a long sigh. This girl was going to be the death of me. “Okay. Do you know how to recognize a riptide?”

  “No. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been headed for one.” Her eyebrow arched, and the tension drained out of my muscles as I fought the urge to laugh.

  Of course she would throw sass at me right after I saved her ass. Again.

  “Okay. Let me show you.” I let go of her shoulders and moved to stand next to her as another wave washed by, rising against our bodies. “It’s easier to see from shore, but watch the waves break. See how they break over there, and here, but not in that center area?”

  I stepped behind her and pointed, my arm grazing her cheek so she could follow easily. Her head came to the perfect height—she’d be able to rest it in the hollow of my shoulder if she turned around. It would be ridiculously easy to kiss her—

  Nope. No. Not happening. Stop it.

  “I see,” she said, nodding her head.

  I immediately dropped my arm. “Right. So that area in the center doesn’t have any waves breaking, because that’s where the ocean sucks the water back out quickly. Hence the term riptide.”

  She spun, looking up at me with a perplexed look on her face.

  Yep, I’d been right. She’d fit snugly against me, and I wouldn’t even have to bend far to get my mouth—

  I took a step back and hoped I wasn’t obvious as hell.

  “But I was out in that exact spot when I found the sea glass.”

  “The sea glass,” I repeated like an idiot. What was this, high school? I was sixteen again, getting caught staring at Stacy Anderson during English instead of paying attention. Except Morgan was ten times more…everything than Stacy had been.

  “Right. The day you pulled your Aquaman stunt?” She folded her arms under her breasts, pushing the curves up.

  I didn’t look.

  I deserved fucking sainthood, because that qualified as a miracle.

  “Aquaman?” Stop repeating what she says, you moron.

  “You know, when you came out of the ocean all Lord of the Fish or whatever and then started jogging? Though I honestly thought you looked more like Captain America at the time. Still kind of do, actually.” She tilted her head in clear appraisal of my features.

  “The day I first saw you?”

  “You remember that? It was only a few seconds.” Goose bumps rose on her arms, but I’d barely registered the water’s temperature until right now. It was way worse last month, but it was still good and chilled in here.

  “Yes. Clear as day.” How the hell could I not? It was the only time I’d ever seen her completely unguarded, her emotions on full display. “I mean, it might not have been as colorful an impression as the one you made later that day, but yes, I knew it was you.”

  A blush stung her cheeks, and she mumbled something about burning that pair of underwear.

  “Sea glass, huh?” I asked to get both of our minds off her underwear.

  She nodded. “I found the prettiest blue piece. I love that something plain like a broken jam jar can be transformed by the cold saltwater and rough sand over years and years. Kind of like what hurts actually refines it, if that makes any sense.”

  Another piece of the puzzle that was Morgan clicked into place. This woman knew pain, and not just in a general sense. In the very real, raw, intimate way that changed a person—refined them like the sea glass.

  “It makes all the sense in the world.” My voice dropped, as if it couldn’t physically support the weight of the charged air between us. I swallowed, my throat a little tighter than usual. “That day, we were at low tide. You were standing on the same sandbar you are now, but there was no water. The best time to find sea glass, actually. The next time we’re both around at low tide, I’ll show you how to spot where the rips will be when the tide comes back.”

  “Thank you. It would be nice to get through a week where you don’t have to come to my rescue.” She rubbed the tops of her arms quickly.

  “I don’t mind,” I assured her.

  “And I appreciate that, but I do mind.” Her words were soft, taking the sting out of what felt a little like rejection. “I need to know I can stand on my own. It’s why I moved here. Why I chose a house that looks like Morticia Addams did the exterior design.”

  Okay, I’d give her that one.

  “So, if I can get through a week where I don’t nearly get myself killed, stuck, or struck in the head by something that you need to rescue me from, that would be a great start.”

  “Got it.” Funny. My need to rescue was as deep as her need to not be rescued.

  “I’m going to start right now by getting out of the water. Because once again, you were right, and I think my toes are turning blue. But I am going to let you feed me.”

  That smile was back, giving me that same punch in the gut. Shit.

  “I think I may have burned the burgers.” I didn’t tell her why.

  She shrugged and tossed a grin over her shoulder as she walked away. “I’ll take my chances. Thanks for the rescue, though. Now let’s hope you don’t have to play the hero again,” she teased. “It’s almost like you have a complex.”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered to myself, waiting until she was on the beach before trudging my way out of the water, getting some much-needed space to clear my head. I yanked off my shirt, grimacing when it stuck to the wet skin of my stomach and lower back.

  “Go ahead and say it.” Sawyer handed me a plate with a burger already on it.

  “Say what?” I took the plate and dressed my burger, noting that Morgan had found a seat in a camping chair next to Garrett.

  “That I was right. You’re interested in her.” He smirked.

  I glared.

  “Hey, I’m all for it. I’ll even wingman you. What can I do? Talk you up? Brag about your list of achievements and qualities? Come on, let me have your back for once.”

  “God, please don’t. She’s obviously going through a tough time, and I’m just trying to be a good neighbor.” Right? Right.

  “Oh shit, she’s a wounded bird? That’s like your fucking catnip.”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  He snorted. “Seriously? Is there not a three-legged guinea pig, a blind turtle, and a one-finned fish living in your house right now?”

  “Those belong to Finley. She likes to rescue helpless pets.” I shrugged.

  “Right, and who exactly let her bring them home?” He stared at me, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.

  I blinked, then cursed.

  “This is going to be fun to watch,” he said before cramming his face with his own burger and walking off toward Morgan and Garrett.

  “There’s nothing to watch!” I called after him.

  He gave me a thumbs-up and kept walking.

  “Really, Jax?”

  I paused mid-ketchup and found Brie staring up at me with crossed arms and concerned eyes.

  “What?”

  “You really think it’s a good idea to start something with your neighbor? To bring a stranger around Finley? Let alone one who lives next door?”

  “Start what? First, I’m not starting anything, Brie. And second, if I was starting something, it wouldn’t be any of your business.” I tried like hell to soften my tone, but given the way she tensed, I hadn’t been successful.

  “It’s sure as hell my business who spends time around my niece.”

  Something foul curdled in my stomach.

  “My daughter. Don’t start with me, Brie.”

  “Sorry. I just think Claire—”

  “Claire lost any rights she had regarding who I spend time with the day she walked out on us.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and blinked a few times, finally forcing a smile. “Just don’t turn your nei
ghbor into a stage-five clinger, especially since I have to work with her.”

  “You work with her?” My gaze flickered toward Morgan.

  “Yep. She came into the school two days ago to pick up some paperwork. She’s the new fifth-grade teacher—my counterpart next year. So if you can’t keep your dick in your pants for Finley’s sake, please consider me.” She shot me a look that could have had about a dozen meanings—none of them good—and walked off toward a group of mutual friends. I made a mental note to ask Vivian what had set her off today.

  So Morgan was a teacher. I could see that.

  I took my food over to where Morgan sat with Garrett and Sawyer. She flashed me a smile and motioned to the empty chair, then took another bite of her burger.

  “It’s not burned?” I asked.

  “Totally is. You should stick to saving people, because barbecue isn’t your talent,” she teased once she’d swallowed, but that didn’t stop her from polishing it off.

  “Say it,” Sawyer whispered from next to me.

  I watched Morgan laugh at something Garrett said. It was small but there and honest. I couldn’t wait to see who she’d be once she came fully out of her shell.

  Fuck.

  I should back the hell away from her.

  Brie was right in a way. Morgan was my neighbor. Starting anything with her could bring a shit ton of awkwardness to my door that I didn’t need—that Finley definitely didn’t need.

  I should have moved over to that group of women hanging out with the mechanics and picked up someone who didn’t live next door. Someone who didn’t need me to explain riptides or push her out of a decaying staircase. Someone who didn’t wear red Hello Kitty underwear that I still couldn’t get out of my head.

  Mental note: throw away all Fin’s Hello Kitty stuff.

  I should have walked the hell away.

  Morgan gathered up her things and slipped into her clothes before walking toward me. “My thirty minutes are up. Time to turn back into a recluse.” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes weren’t.

  “Okay. I’m glad you came down.”

  “I am, too. Thank you for the invite.” She slid her sunglasses on, and I immediately lost the ability to read her.

  “Anytime.”

  She gave me a half smile and a nod, then walked away. My eyes followed her until she disappeared over the dune.

  “Say it,” Sawyer repeated, this time singing his demand quietly. “Call dibs.”

  “Fuck off.”

  But we both knew he was right.

  I was interested.

  Now I just had to decide if I was going to act on it or not.

  Chapter Five

  Morgan

  I know you. You’ve always been so good at holding it all together.

  I know you’ll pick up the pieces.

  The construction noise overtook Mama’s voice as I pulled into my driveway. There were two huge cranes and several smaller vehicles surrounding my house.

  “…and that doesn’t even start to address my worrying about hurricane season!” Mama chirped.

  “Mama, I’m so sorry, but I gotta cut this short. I can barely hear you with all the clamor going on at my house.” I pulled the Mini into the spot on the other side of the boathouse and put her in park.

  “Okay, honey. Just think about what I said, okay? It can’t be good for you to be all the way out there by yourself. You really need to be home where we can take care of you and help you move on. Being out there is just going to let you dwell on it when you really need to pick up and push on with your life.” Her intentions were good, and her demands so…not.

  “Okay, Mama, I’ll keep that in mind, I promise, and I’m not alone. Sam is spending most of the summer with me.” There was zero chance in hell I was moving back to Enterprise, but I wasn’t even opening that can of worms with her.

  Steve waved to me from the table he’d set up across from Will’s truck.

  “I’m relieved to hear that, but still. Two young girls—”

  “Mama, I really have to go.” I killed the ignition and reminded myself not to snap at the woman who had given me life.

  “Please do, baby. I’d even come help move you out. Love you! Just think about it!”

  “Love you, too. Bye, now!” I hung up before she could launch into another ten-minute tirade about why being here was the completely wrong thing for me. I could devote an entire chapter in the journal Dr. Circe had given me yesterday to Mama’s well-meaning control issues.

  The weather had chilled since this weekend but was still warm enough that the breeze didn’t bite at my legs too hard as I walked over to Steve’s makeshift command center.

  He gave me the quick rundown. The house was up on jacks, giant holes had been cut next to the existing center support of the house, and they were preparing to drill both the new foundation pilings and the center support into the sand.

  “Twenty-seven feet deep?” I remarked.

  “Twenty-seven,” he confirmed. “A storm can easily swipe away a good six feet of the current ground level. Opting for the composite pilings was incredibly smart of you. They’re stronger than concrete or steel.”

  “And more expensive,” I muttered. If the house drained my bank account, so be it. I never wanted the money, anyway.

  “Honestly, spend the money on the structure. No one gives a shit if you have granite counters when the next cat four comes in.” He shrugged.

  “True. Are we still on time for moving back in?” My chest tightened in anticipation. Not that I wasn’t enjoying the B&B in Cape Hatteras, but I wanted back into my house.

  He ran his finger down his calendar, then nodded. “Ten more days, maybe sooner if the weather holds. We’re set to start drilling in about thirty minutes. Once we get her resettled on the new pilings and the new roof secured, you’re more than welcome to live in a construction zone.”

  “So fast,” I remarked.

  “Not going to lie, I’m pushing my team so we can fit you in between projects. We won’t be able to start anything on the interior until we finish a job in Frisco.”

  “Perfect. You can come in and fix whatever I’ve messed up by then.”

  He chuckled and slid a binder across the table. “Have you thought about colors for the exterior?”

  What color would Will have wanted had this been our house? Probably the dark blue or even the gray. Classic. Stately.

  “She’s here!” a high voice shouted with glee. Jackson’s door slammed shut, and I heard the fast pitter-pat of what had to be Finley’s feet coming down the steps. I looked over and waved as she raced across the small space that separated our houses.

  “Hi, Miss Morgan!” Fin grinned up at me, and I couldn’t help but return it. She was like living, breathing joy—the contagious kind, and even I wasn’t immune.

  “Well, hi there, Miss Finley! You got here just in time to help me look at paint colors!” I pulled Steve’s vacant stool over and gave the seat a pat.

  “I can help?” Fin asked, already climbing onto the stool and setting a bright orange walkie-talkie on the table.

  “Well, I get the final say, but I could definitely use your opinion, seeing as you’ll have to see it every day, too!”

  “Hmm…” She touched her chin thoughtfully as she flipped through the laminated pages of colors. “I like the bright ones!”

  I looked over her shoulder to see swatches of bright pastels in yellow, purple, teal, and blue. “You don’t think we should go with something like your house?”

  A quick glance confirmed my memory—Jackson’s house was white with thick, gray trim, and the man himself was walking toward the back gate with a bag slung over his shoulder. My belly fluttered, and I put my hand over the waistband of my shorts.

  Not for you, I reminded myself and jerked my eyes away from his retreating frame.
Going to his barbecue had been good for me—even Dr. Circe said so—but I wasn’t about to let myself start needing the reprieve being around him somehow gave me.

  “My bed is yellow. Like happy sunshine! Your house could be sunshine, too!” She nodded enthusiastically.

  “A lot of the houses out here are bright colors you don’t find in the city,” Steve agreed.

  I eyed the teal swatch. The color was gorgeous, but what would Will have—

  “Calling Fin Montgomery, this is Daddy Montgomery, over,” Jackson said through Fin’s walkie-talkie. Even his voice was attractive, clear and deep. He wasn’t in the yard anymore, so where was he calling her from?

  Fin grabbed the device and grinned. “Hi, Daddy!”

  “You didn’t say over, over,” he teased.

  She giggled, and the sound slipped inside my heart.

  “Don’t forget your mission, over,” Jackson said.

  “Oh! Right…over.” She turned to me with expectation in her eyes. “I’m supposed to tell you that it’s low tide, so come eat.” She nodded with a smile, satisfied that she’d delivered her message.

  “Eat at three forty-five in the afternoon?” I questioned.

  “I like snacks,” she told me matter-of-factly.

  “Good point. Where are we supposed to go?”

  “To the beach. Daddy’s there.”

  The fluttering in my belly quickened, and I mentally cursed myself. It had only been four days since I’d seen Jackson at the barbecue. He’d been at work when I’d stopped by to check on the house, and I didn’t attempt to stalk him or make myself obviously available.

  Because I wasn’t.

  Even joking with myself that I might be available was cruel. But I didn’t have the heart to deny those big brown eyes looking at me beseechingly. Guess I was a masochist, because I stuck my hand out to take Finley’s.

  “Okay, we’ll go.”

  “Yay!” She pressed the button on the side of the walkie-talkie. “Daddy Montgomery, she said yes! Over!”

  “Good work, Fin! See you soon, over!”

  “When do you need my answer on the colors?” I asked Steve as Fin hopped down from her seat.