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I’m in my bed. Alone. But then I never bring anyone home—I’m a go-to-their-place kind of guy. My eye hurts. I have the headache from hell after knocking back a few too many tequilas when I got home last night. I tossed and turned well into the early hours. My old insomnia, coming back to haunt me.
Joe hascancer. My God.
The bedroom windows glow with the faintest grey light. It’s early, even for me. I’ve been an early riser for as long as I can remember. It’s what you do when you work outside in the South, where afternoons are often so hot you’d rather die than frame a house.
My old man was in construction, and the one good thinghe did was teach me the trade back when I was twelve, thirteen.
Been at it ever since. Probably should’ve quit when he had his accident on a job site, but by then I was making decent money, and I liked the work. I intentionally sought out a less physical role the older I got, which is part of the reason why I’m a general contractor now (the other part is my best friend owns the company).
Luckily, I have a different father figure these days.
I roll onto my back, heart pounding.Please let yesterday be a bad dream.
But when I reach for my phone on my nightstand, I see a text from Jen.
Jenny Monroe
I thought on it and I’m in. It’s the right thing to do for Dad.
Jesus, when did right and wrong switch places? Everything about this stupid ass plan is wrong. And yet I feel this strange certainty in my gut that it’s also right.
It’s right for right now, at least. Because beneath that certainty, I sense an altogether different feeling in my center. When shit hits the fan—how could it not?—people are going to get hurt.
Or maybe that’s just me. I’m the one who will fall even more in love with my best friend’s sister when she moves in with me. I’m the one who will take it on the chin when the game is up and she moves on and I don’t.
What the fuck am I gonna do then?
What thefuckwas I thinking when I asked Jen to marry me? The words came flying out of my mouth before I could stop them. Maybe I’m not as much of a village bicycle as I let people believe, but I’ve certainly never been interested in monogamy. Much less marriage. It shouldn’t have been on my mind.
But it was, and now I’m spiraling.
My eyes catch on the trio of paintings on the far wall and my heart skips a beat. Just had them installed last week after paying a small fortune to have them transported from California. They look even more beautiful in the room than I’d hoped.
Art’s always been an escape from survival mode. From the ugliness of everyday life living with my parents when I was younger. Jenny and I have always shared an interest in it. One of the many things that drew me to her.
I decide to wait on coffee and put my wetsuit on instead. Weather’s warming up, but the water is still chilly.
I grab my surfboard and hop in the shiny new golf cart waiting for me in my garage. Upgraded my house, so figured I’d upgrade my ride too.
The familiar sounds of the maritime forest fill my ears as I head to the beach. Birds. Rustling leaves. The low thrum of insects going about their morning’s work.
Love it here. It’s private. Peaceful. Sexy, too, living tucked inside a canopy of palm trees and hundred-year-old oaks. I bought this lot as soon as I had the money. Hired the architect of my dreams to design a two-story house that would jive with its lush, moody surroundings.
It’s paradise.Myparadise. But will Jen like it? What about her dogs? We’ll have to watch out for gators and snakes. Ticks too.
My stomach lurches as I press my bare foot to the gas pedal. I need to take back the proposal. There’s no way we can pull it off. Not without someone—everyone—getting crushed in the process.
Joe isn’t going to die. Which means Jenny has plenty of time to find her soulmate and have those kids she talks about. Still don’t get the minivan thing. But hey, to each their own.
I carry my board onto the beach just as the sun breaks over the horizon. The sand is cool on the soles of my feet. Theocean rolls beneath a pink sky. The moon, barely the size of a thumbnail, is just visible above my head.
The wide, flat beach is deserted. Good. Don’t feel like talking right now. I need to think. Figure out how I’m gonna get myself out of this mess.
There’s no way I’ll survive a relationship with Jen, even if it’s fake. I don’t see her a ton these days. Her life is in Wilmington. She does visit Bald Head often, though, popping in to see Joe, Tuck, Maren, and Katie. I try to avoid her as much as I can, but I still run into her.
Seeing herthatmuch is torture. I can’t imagine not losing my damn mind if I have to be around her all the time.
The cold water hits my bare feet and ankles. I hiss. But I force myself to keep going. Nothing clears my mind like surfing. The salt in the air, the burn in my body.
