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EMMA
With the sand squishing through my toes and the sun beaming down on my skin, I had to say that the May weather in California was sublime. Closing my eyes, I listened to the gentle waves, feeling more at peace with each passing second. Two days had passed since I last saw Carter, and my world had been a whirlwind of emotions. I told him I needed time, and it was almost up. Was I still confused? Absolutely. On the other hand, I’d never felt better.
Reagan tried to get me to join her at the gym, but when I told her I didn’t want to see Carter yet, the questions began. I confided in her about everything, and she said she was happy for us, that Carter was one of the good guys. He was, but it didn’t change that I was scared to be with him. When I mentioned that to Reagan, she went on and on about facing your fears. That was precisely what I was going to do. It still didn’t change the fact I was terrified. Maybe that was how it was for many people, scared to take the leap. It happened with my parents when they were younger, and now, they were happily married.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my mother called out. As she approached, I glanced at her over my shoulder; she was dressed in a cream-colored coverup dress over her bathing suit and her favorite floppy hat. “I was looking all over the place for you.”
I patted the other side of my towel. “Been right here the whole time.”
She sat down on her knees and smiled at me. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“Thinking,” I replied with a shrug of my shoulder.
My mother giggled. “I know that voice. Got some guy trouble?”
That was the understatement of the year. “If you only knew,” I grumbled.
Sliding her legs from under her, my mom settled in beside me, bumping me with her arm. “Tell me.”
Everyone was going to find out sooner or later. For over an hour we talked about Carter and what happened in San Francisco with Ryan and the photoshoot. I left out the details of our sex-filled night, but my mom wasn’t stupid.
My mother’s concerned emerald gaze washed over me. “How long have you and Carter had feelings for each other?”
“Ever since we were kids,” I confessed sheepishly. “He was my first kiss.”
Her eyes doubled in size. “Uh, let’s not tell your father that. I don’t think I want to know the details of that first kiss. I’m sure there’s a lot more where that came from.” Cheeks burning, I slapped a hand over my face and fell back on the towel. My mother burst out laughing and laid down next to me, resting a comforting hand over mine. “Young love. I get it.”
“What was it like when you and dad started dating?” I asked, peering over at her. “Did you trust him?”
A chuckle sprang from her. “Hell, no. A girl had to be stupid to trust one of the Twins of Terror. Your dad and uncle Camden had a horrible reputation with women.”
They were wild, just like Carter had been. “How did you learn to trust him?”
My mother’s smile saddened. “Honestly, it was the other way around. I had to fight to get your dad to trust me.”
“Really?” I countered, wondering how that was possible. “How so?”
Blowing out a sigh, she averted her attention to the sky. “I’m the one who ran away, Emma. Your dad was the wild card, spontaneous and exciting. I left him for a safer choice, which turned out to be the worst decision of my life. I hurt your dad, and he hated me for it.” I could hear the regret in her voice and see it on her face. “It took a long time for him to trust that I wouldn’t break his heart again.”
It reminded me of what I was doing with Carter. I was running away from him out of fear. “Seeing Carter on TV with women fawning all over him made me hate him for the longest time, Mom. I don’t think I can handle the fighter lifestyle he has.”
My mother turned back to me and sat up, her hand squeezing mine reassuringly. “Trust me, honey. If Carter cares about you, he’s not going to screw up. Personally, I like the young man. Your dad might not when he finds out you’re together.”
I sat up quickly. “We’re not together yet. I plan on talking to Carter tomorrow. He really didn’t want to give me these days to myself.”
With a roll of her eyes, my mother snickered. “He’s impatient just like the rest of them.” Then, getting to her feet, she brushed the sand off her dress. “I’m walking back to the house. Are you staying with your sister tonight?”
“Yep,” I answered with a nod. “Reagan wants to order takeout and watch a movie.”
My mother’s smile was beautiful. Everyone always said we looked alike, but I didn’t think I held a candle to her. The more I was around her, the more I missed her. “I love you, Emma.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
I watched her walk away and then turned my attention to the ocean. Time didn’t matter today, not even when another hour passed me by. I had nowhere to be, at least not until Reagan left the gym so we could begin our girls’ night. It just so happened that a text came in from her.
Reagan: Leaving the gym in 20. I’m starving so figure out what you want to eat.
Grinning, I brushed the sand off my legs and was about to stand when a guy with sandy blond hair and golden skin and wearing aviator sunglasses ran up, holding out his phone. He looked in his late twenties and somewhat familiar, like I’d seen him before.
