Sienna
Emily is smiling and answering all of Ariel’s questions about fashion, while Evangeline takes notes on her iPad and Jazz flips off her shoes and wades in the ocean.
Ariel’s mother, Cheryl, is taller than her daughter, with light-brown hair cut short and streaked with the silver of age. The fine lines around her pretty brown eyes were carved by laughter and maybe by pain. She doesn’t hide her maturity, and I respect that. She’s the kind of woman you know stopped hearts when she was young. That kind of beauty doesn’t fade, not really. It settles into the bones and softens around the edges. She’s got a Southern drawl more pronounced than Ariel’s, and her demeanor is quiet and reserved. I like her a lot. Way more than I like Jazz.
She doesn’t say much but pays rapt attention to Evangeline and Emily as they make suggestions for the décor and menu.
While I’m feeling like a fish out of water. Too bad there’s no wall around. I’d be stuck to it like glue. How the hell did the dancing queen become the wallflower once more?
I walk away from the others and inhale the beachy fragrance of salt thick in the air, mingled with the scent of hot sand and faint traces of hibiscus on the breeze. The sun is high.
My stomach rumbles. Right, we haven’t eaten lunch yet. Funny. I don’t feel hungry, but my body betrays me. It wants food.
I head back. “Are you guys getting hungry?” I ask.
Ariel laughs. “Mama, Jazz, and I had a huge breakfast. But you all can go ahead back if you want.”
“I could eat,” Emily says. “If you’ll excuse us, then.”
Emily and I walk toward the concrete path, but then I change direction.
“Where are you off to?” Emily asks.
“I’m going to walk the shoreline,” I say. “See what I find.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
Right. She knows exactly what—or ratherwho—I’m looking for. I shrug. “I’m not sure about anything in this moment. Which is ridiculous because this morning I was sure I’d found the love of my life.”
“I hear that one,” Emily says. But then her voice softens. “You have to give it time. We both do. They all just found out their friend is alive.”
“I know,” I reply, looking toward the ocean.
“You want company?” she asks.
“Don’t you want to get some lunch?”
“Do you really think I can eat?” She shakes her head. “My nerves are doing the bloody chicken dance under my skin. I’m certain I’ve ruined things with River, but on the otherhand, he didn’t return my sentiment, so maybe it’s live and let live. Or whatever. I’m not sure I’m making a bit of sense.”
“You’re making more sense than you think,” I say. “Our men are off dealing with a ghost from their past, and we’re left trying to figure out if we’re still part of their future.”
She exhales sharply. “Exactly.”
I sigh. “I hate myself for even thinking this, Em, but what if Jake was never supposed to return? What if this upends everything?”
“Why would it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a bad feeling, is all. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled their friend isn’t dead as they thought. But there’s a story there, and it can’t be a good one.”
“You’re bloody right about that.”
We walk in silence for a bit, just the soft crash of waves and the cry of gulls filling the space between us. The sun beats down, and sweat beads on the back of my neck. Emily and I don’t talk much more, but an understanding exists between us. We’re both in love…and we’re both frightened about what this revelation may mean.
Eventually, we round a bend in the shoreline where the beach curves sharply, and that’s when I see them.
Five figures—no, six—half-shrouded in shadow beneath the palms.
Four of them are sitting on the sand. Brett. And River. And Jake. And…Misty?
