“You going to be waiting on the beach for me?”
“Hell, yes.”
Trying to play it cool, she shrugged. “Then, I guess I’ll see you at midnight.”
A zing shot through her body at the memory. That night with Colin was the first of many firsts. Her first date, first kiss, and the first of many midnight walks along the shoreline holding hands with Colin and talking about their futures. Until, one night, their futures began to intersect and realign, sharing the same direction and destination.
There were still moments, over the past twenty years, when she’d thought back on that night and that kiss and how magical it had seemed at the time.
“What? I wasn’t peeking.” She pointed to her eyes. “Just having a little tunnel vision from nearly dying.” She snatched the sweatshirt and yanked it on, hoping he wouldn’t notice her blushing.
She zipped it up and her heart did a little tap dance. The hoodie was still warm from his body and smelled like surfboard wax and the kind of confidence that came from being at the top of the food chain.
“You still—” he began.
“Think the open ocean is a shark-infested, seaweed-strangling death trap?” A hard lesson she’d learned when her dad tried to teach her how to boogie-board, then got distracted chatting up a group of female surfers. Had it not been for the lifeguard, Teagan would have likely drowned. It was her first realization of how dangerous broken promises could be. “Absolutely.”
They were quiet for a moment, as if neither knew what to say next. Then he looked awkwardly over his shoulder. Oh, he was looking for an out.
“Thanks again,” she said at the same time he said, “You sure you’re okay?”
Again in unison, “Fine.” “You’re welcome.” Followed by an even longer, more uncomfortable silence.
“Your sweatshirt.” She started to unzip it and he held out the same hand signal as when he’d told Garbage Disposal to stop. And wouldn’t you know it, she stopped.
His lips twitched. “Keep it.”
She didn’t argue for fear that he’d give another command she’d feel compelled to follow. “Thanks.”
He gave a short nod. “Well, I’d better . . .” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and, taking his surfboard under his arm, headed back toward his house.
Teagan watched him go. When he was out of sight, she pressed the collar of the sweatshirt to her nose and breathed deeply. He might be bigger than when they were teens, but he smelled exactly the same.
Chapter 4
Having a sister is like having a best friend
you can’t get rid of.
—Amy Li
If the universe only doled out what one could handle, it clearly thought Teagan was a badass.
The morning had started out . . . well, like every other morning since she’d been thrust into single parenthood. Frank might have failed her in a lot of ways, but he’d always been great with the girls. He made every day feel like a trip to Disney World. There wasn’t a lot of structure or continuity to the girls’ schedule, but he managed to get the basics covered.
Teagan was barely coping. She was surrounded by bowls, dirty utensils, and multiple batches of dough in different states of rising. That was just her kitchen. She was still in her pajamas, covered in a mountain of flour, and her abandoned coffee had reached Pacific Ocean temperatures. It was the last part that was the most upsetting.
Eyes stinging from a serious lack of sleep, she stood at the kitchen island, flipping through her grandma’s recipe binder. Teagan liked binders, organizational dividers, and colored pens. The only part of her world where she went by feel was baking. While science was the foundation of baking, perfecting a recipe came down to feel. This batch of dough felt like rubber.
“Dammit.” She’d over kneaded it.
“That’s a bad word,” Poppy informed her with delight.
While Lily was sitting on her princess stool with her legs crossed, reading her favorite book in a calm zen state, Poppy was in a constant state of motion. Her energy level registered a blaring ten. She sat on the floor, using wooden spoons for drumsticks, a large pot for bass, a whisk as a microphone, as she pretended to be a rock star. Garbage Disposal was her backup, howling the entire time.
Teagan’s state could be described as sheer panic. Balancing mommy duties while preparing for her first day as a vendor at the farmer’s market had her confidence about resurrecting Nonna’s bread business a little shaky.
Running into Colin had left her a whole lot shaky. She knew he spent time at his parents’ summer home, all the family did, but she hadn’t expected their second run-in to be when she was looking like unbaked bread. Then there was Harley. Herlife is one big partyof a sister, who was still squatting in Teagan’s house. Scratch that, Harley wasn’t just squatting. She’d turned what used to be a peaceful place of solace into an eclectic bohemian burrow complete with a hanging chair that had ER Visit tattooed on every macraméd inch.
