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“Excellent, that’s agreed.” Lucas slapped his back. “Now we only need to persuade Caitie to help us organize the wedding.”
“Caitie?” Breck asked. “As in your sister?”
“Yeah. She’s flying in today for the engagement party. All the way from New York.” Lucas shrugged. “It’ll be good to see her.”
“I bet she’s changed a bit.”
“She’s twenty-eight now.” Lucas widened his eyes. “Can you believe it?”
“No.” Breck shook his head. “The last time I saw her she was a kid. I can’t imagine her any older.”
“Yeah, well she’s all grown up.” Lucas didn’t look happy about it.
“Like Daniel,” Breck murmured. His own brother was twenty-four, old enough to be finishing up his master’s degree at Harvard. Growing up, the two of them had spent a lot of time at the Russell house. Lucas’s parents – Deenie and Wallace – had been like second parents to Breck and Daniel. Feeding them when their mom was working her ass off to keep a roof over their heads, and helping them with homework when school was threatening them with detentions.
And of course, there was the year their mom died, and Deenie and Wallace had taken them in for Christmas. Breck swallowed hard at the memory. He’d been seventeen and Daniel had been eleven, and both of them had been bereft. Their father had long since divorced their mom and had relocated to Boston where he still lived now. Thanks to the holidays it had taken him two days to fly to California to pick up his sons.
Two long, painful days that Breck tried not to think about too often. The same way he tried not to think about his mom. And yet he couldn’t forget the kindness the Russells had shown to him and Daniel, nor the way fifteen-year-old Caitie had tried everything she could to make Daniel smile. She had such a soft voice and caring eyes.
“I need to head off,” Lucas said, giving Breck’s back a final slap. “Ember has a to-do list as long as my arm. I’ll see you at the Beach Club later, okay?”
“Sure.” Breck grinned. “I should head off, too. Before my workers refuse to work over the lack of coffee. I’ll see you tonight.”
As Lucas crossed the parking lot to his truck, Breck climbed into his own, turning on the engine and backing out of his space.
So Caitie was coming back. That was interesting. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of woman she’d grown up to be.
* * *
The moment Caitie Russell stepped out of the airport and onto the sidewalk she could feel the warmth of the Californian sun beating down on her. Though she’d left good weather behind in New York, somehow this heat felt different. The rays looked brighter as they bounced off the windows of the airport buildings surrounding her. It felt different, too. Not the muggy heat every New Yorker complained about in the summer. But a lighter, clearer happy-kind-of-heat that made people smile as they passed her to get to the taxi line.
Even though she’d grown up here, it had been years since she’d been to California, thanks to attending an out-of-state college, and then setting up her business in New York. Life had become so busy she never found the time to visit home.
But now she was here, and it felt strange. No, that wasn’t right. It was her who felt strange. As though she was trying on old clothes that no longer fit, stretching them out until they were threadbare and worn.
She picked up the rental car her assistant had booked for her, and slung her luggage in the trunk, grabbing her phone to see if she’d missed any messages between the arrival gate and the rental office. There was only one message – from her best friend, Harper. Caitie read it with a resigned grin.
Remember what I said. You’re the sister of the groom, you get first dibs on all the hot guys.
There are no hot guys, Caitie quickly typed back. And even if there were, I’d probably be related to them.
She climbed into the car and threw her phone into the cup holder right as it buzzed in reply. Harper would have to wait until she got to Angel Sands. Right now she had to concentrate on the road.
Caitie steered the car out of the lot and headed toward the highway, ignoring the way her phone kept vibrating in the cup holder. Harper must have given up on messaging and was trying to call. Caitie grinned at the thought of how impatient her best friend could be.
She’d first met Harper Hayes at school. They’d been assigned as roommates at the private arts college they’d both attended. Caitie had been a Fine Arts major, Harper had studied Fashion Design and Dressmaking. The day they’d first met, Caitie’d walked into their shared bedroom to find Harper curled up in a ball, sobbing dramatically about the boy she’d left behind, proclaiming she’d never find love again.
Later that night, Harper had dragged Caitie out to some drunken dorm party, and proceeded to kiss at least twenty boys, in an attempt – so she told Caitie – to forget Mr. Hometown.
That was Harper. Emotional, dramatic, always looking for love. She was the yin to Caitie’s calm and organized yang. No wonder when they’d both relocated to New York after college, they did it together, moving first into a dingy apartment in Williamsburg, before working their way up. She stopped Caitie from taking herself too seriously, and in return, Caitie gave her the steadfast support she’d never had growing up. Together they worked.
As her traveling progressed and she joined the Pacific Coastal Highway, Caitie felt her pulse rise up at the sight of the ocean. It unnerved her, being so close to the deep blue water and crashing waves. The smell of the salty ozone made her stomach do a flip-flop, and she tried to push down the anxiety that rose every time the road curved toward the shore.
She switched the air conditioning to circulate and took a
deep breath, keeping her eyes on the blacktop ahead. It was fine. She was fine. She wasn’t a kid anymore. The ocean wasn’t something to be afraid of.
It had been years since she had a panic attack. The last one she could remember was when she’d gone to stay with a client in Michigan, near the waterfront. They’d asked her to join them on their boat, suggesting dinner moored up in the water. Once aboard, she’d felt the familiar rush of fear and adrenaline shooting through her veins. She didn’t have to feign her headache that night. She’d lost the contract, too. Another reason to avoid relocating to California. She wasn’t sure her business would survive it.
