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“Good morning, Abby. I hope you don’t mind if I call you Abby, do you?” Maddie cheerfully puts orange juice, fresh hot bacon, and waffles down on the dining table. Slipping into a chair, I sense she will probably call me Abby no matter what my opinion is on the subject, but her kind smile is enough that she could call me just about anything she wished.
Yawning, I reply, “Oh, not at all. My mother used to call me Abby, until she passed away a few years ago.” While digging into the fragrant and delicious meal, I can’t recall the last time anyone cooked for me, and although this is a part of my reservation, it’s still nice and homey. It’s the kind of distraction I need right now.
Maddie sits next to me and squeezes my hand gently, nodding her head as if she knows the pain of losing someone firsthand and can understand. I need a lot more of that understanding right now. I lost my mother and now I’m facing certain disownment from my father.
“Well, I think you’ll have a good summer here, my dear. What are your plans for the day?” She clears the dishes and refuses to let me help, shaking her head and motioning me to sit back down and refill my plate.
I’d tossed and turned last night, despite the comfortable bed. Damn thoughts about Lucas, mingled with the stranger who brought my luggage in, had me feeling confused and unsatisfied. I’d been forced to take care of business in the early morning hours. While thinking about the overbearing stranger, I slipped my hands over my body. The more I did, the more I craved something real. Working at a high-powered law firm made me paranoid about visiting sex shops with my girlfriends for toys, and I’d never purchase something online, so that left me to do all the work the good, old-fashioned way. Needless to say, I’m exhausted and would love to go back to bed, but I won’t.
“I was thinking I’d go jog on the beach and check out the town for a late lunch.”
“Oh yes, we have some lovely places to eat. The Porthole Café is my favorite right in town, and there’s a nice local bar called Ship’s Bottom. They have a good crowd at night and a band.” Maddie smiles and refills my coffee cup.
“I’ll check out the café today after I run a little.”
“Make sure you wear sunscreen, my dear.” Maddie has a motherly way, and the reminder is taken to heart with a smile. I’ve missed mine far too much lately.
Sipping my coffee, I broach a much more sensitive topic than skincare. “Is the guy, um, who brought my luggage, does he work for you, for the property?”
“Oh, Roman? No, not really. He’s a dear boy who helps me with fixing up odds and ends during the summers when he’s living here. A bit of a wild one, that Roman.” Maddie smiles and only half of her face follows. I’m thinking there’s more to Roman than she’s letting on, but I shrug the idea out of my head.
“It’s fine, really. I was just curious, nothing more.” Maddie makes a murmur in affirmation and I have to wonder if she believes me. I only half believe myself at this point.
“While I’m thinking of it, you know our town has a tradition each summer where the locals hide colored glass balls on the beach for tourists to find, right?” Shaking my head no, Maddie’s clearly excited about this local pastime; she could be the sole tourism board for Gold Beach.
“Really?” This intrigues me. I don’t recall reading about this when I researched the town before booking my stay. My mom never mentioned it growing up, and Dad wouldn’t have told my sister and me about it. Thoughts of my dad remind me he’s probably devising some new emergency for me to return to.
My host continues her excited dialogue with sweeping hand gestures toward the large window overlooking the beach and dunes. “Oh yes, each ball is tagged with a message that reads: ‘Show this glass ball to the Gold Beach Visitor Center Staff and enter to win a weekly drawing.’ The idea is to draw more folks into town. If you’d been here in February, all of the balls would have been red. I think a lot of them are green, clear, or blue now for the summer.”
This past February, Lucas and I planned to go away right up until my dad strong-armed us with guilt to assist for two separate trials. Plans were scrapped and forgotten amidst the hope this was the last trial we would be assisting before getting jobs that actually paid us for our time and sacrifices.
How wrong I was.
Again.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely hear Maddie’s next words. “Well now, you enjoy your day, dear.” She clasps my free hand before leaving me alone. Deciding I’ve mulled over the past enough, I make my way to the beach.
The weather is a near perfect day, sunny and cool as I jog and walk for a good hour along the rocky shoreline, picking up a few shells here and there that hadn’t been crushed by the ocean’s brutality I look them over before tossing them back into the waves. Taking my sneakers off, I wiggle my feet in the coarse, wet sand. It feels good between my toes, keeping me grounded when my traitorous thoughts let me stray back to LA and what I’m trying to avoid.
I step out into the water and let the foamy waves come up to my knees. Even with the sun, the water is icy cold. The contrast of warm sun, salty air, and numbing water keeps me raptured to my spot. The sun warms my back, zeroing in on my exposed skin in my sports bra and the small of my back above my shorts. Adrift in my mind, I raise my arms up to the sky, taking it all in peacefully and feeling renewed. I don’t hear the loud splashing behind me or the yelling following it until I surface, sputtering out breaths of salty water.
“Down, Bella, down! Bad girl!” The excited dog uses its paws to push me back under the water. I break for air in the icy surf, seeing the large chocolate lab being shooed away from me by a deep voice. As she runs down the beach, I hear, “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” Big hands grip my shoulders, my sensitive skin feeling the rough calloused fingers as they lift me clear out of the water to settle me on the beach.
I can’t breathe as the cold water shocks my system after swallowing a good mouthful. It burns down to my belly. Sunlight blinds my eyes and I’m coughing hard when he tosses me over his lap in the wet sand. Arranging me over his knee, he thumps my back a few times before I cough out the last bit of water.
“You’re okay, just got a stomach full of seawater and the wind knocked out of you.” He chuckles and I swear he is enjoying this, but I don’t have the strength yet to shrug him off. “That’s Bella for you.”
He rubs my back again, gently this time, before turning me over to lie on the beach. My skin responds to his fingertips grazing my body ever so smoothly. His hands feel good and it takes me a moment to focus my eyes on his face, the features slowly coming together.
Water drips from his wet hair to his forehead and down his strong cheeks to a dimpled chin. Full masculine lips smirk at me and I look up into his gray eyes, which stare right back. He licks his lips and I have to swallow back the ocean salt still caught in my throat. I’m parched, and it’s not for a drink. It takes me a moment longer to recognize who this man is while he’s lying half on top of me and pushing my wet hair back off my face, checking me out.
“You!” Angrily, I realize this is the man from yesterday who brought my luggage to the cottage and rudely dumped it in my bedroom. The behemoth jerk is taking small liberties every damn way he can leering over my body.
“Yes, me. Who are you?” he asks with a full smile, still leaning over me. Looking around, I try to focus anywhere but on his face and realize we are alone on the beach. He is just as wet as I am—white T-shirt plastered to his chest, swim shorts not hiding much of anything, and him currently resting against my hip, hard. I feel my traitorous nipples tighten against my cold, wet sports bra, causing me to freak out. I push him back by the shoulders. My first try doesn’t budge him at all, and the second he swats away, annoyed.
“Relax, Miss Feisty Pants.” He stands, brushing a hand through his hair before extending it to help me up. I swat his hand away just as he did mine and roll to my side, getting up on my own and brushing sand off my body. “You could say thank you, you know.” He smirks, cupping the back of his neck with his hand, watching the dog from hell run down the beach and back again
“Thank you for what? Almost drowning me with your hulking size and that obnoxious dog?” I spit back, hands on my hips and glaring at him, hoping my retinas will burn through him like lasers if I’m lucky. The dog comes back for another pass, just missing me but tripping me up just e
