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Predictably, my thoughts drift to Grayson. He’s left me alone today, ever since he dropped me off after the ballpark last night. There have been no visits, no driveway encounters, no sightings of him around his house at all.Not that I’ve been watching for him.
Our run-in at the charity event wasn’t as painful as I had expected. I did everything I could to steer clear of Grayson, but he found me at the end of the evening. It started out a bit awkward, but thankfully things improved. It’s just my luck that I wound up with a flat tire on that night, of all nights. It was sweet of him to give me a ride home, and then offer to take care of my car for me. I have to admit, the drive was actually enjoyable. I had to ignore how my pulse hammered beneath my skin when Grayson had rested his hand on the gear shift just inches away from my thigh. If I’m honest, spending time with him was kind of nice. But it also fried my brain. Being around Grayson makes me feel things.
Digging the paddle into the glassy ocean water, I gain a little momentum, allowing me to glide over the surface for a few beats before I need to start paddling again. My paddleboard has always been an escape. Out here, it’s just me and the water.
After our parents died, Jake and I went to live with our grandparents on Haven Harbor. I was still shell-shocked, and on top of that didn’t know any other kids in the neighborhood. Jake made a couple of friends and started spending weekends with them at the beach. I would often tag along, promising him that I would stay out of their way. I had this strange attachment to Jake after the fire, I felt anxious any time we weren’t together. I felt as though if I could just keep him close, I could make sure he was safe. That fear lived in me for at least a year. Every day I woke up terrified that I could lose him too, so I found any way I could to be with him—and keep an eye on him.
Eventually I made a few friends at the beach, girls around my age who were into paddleboarding. We would spend the whole day in the sun, coming home in time for dinner. The girls were from Reed Point— about 30 minutes away from Mayberry, the town where Jake and I grew up— and knew nothing about my past. I liked that they didn’t know my story, that they didn’t feel sorry for me.
I soon realized that when I was out on the ocean, it was the one time I could stop thinking about how much I missed my parents. I really believe that what I found in paddleboarding ended up saving me.
Carefully, I lower my body down so I’m straddling my board, enjoying the feel of the cold ocean water up to my knees. I hold onto my paddle in front of me, gazing at the view of the cove.
As much as I’d love to stay out here all day, I have a long to-do list waiting for me. I could scrub out the fridge or tackle the wallpaper in the bathroom. I also need to head to town to run a few errands, but I don’t have my car back yet. I assume it’s at Grayson’s dad’s shop.
As if he can read my mind, I look up to see Grayson pulling up in front of his house. He gets out of his truck and stands on the street in front of his house for a minute, looking down at his phone. Even from this distance, my heart thuds in my chest at the sight of Grayson Ford. I take the opportunity to stare. He’s wearing a pair of shorts, a T-shirt and sneakers. A few strands of blond hair fall over his forehead in that messy-styled way that turns me on. Just the way he’s standing there, how he carries himself all confident and cocky, makes me crazy with lust.
Desire rips through me as I watch him walk towards his front door, my heart rate kicking up a notch. It annoys me to no end how drawn I am to him. Grayson has an effect on me unlike any other man I’ve known.
Once he’s inside, I try to wash him from my mind. I’ve spent way too much time thinking about our conversation last night. Obsessing about how good he looked, the scent of his cologne, the way his eyes held mine longer than they should have.Friendsdon’t generally lock eyes like that.
I shake my head, reminding myself why I’m out here in the ocean. To decompress. I look around, taking in the beautiful view. It really is stunning here. I soak it all in, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin.
This little cove has a secret-spot kind of vibe, even though it’s only five minutes from the city. On one side, a bluff rises steeply from the ocean where Haven Harbor comes to an end—a rocky slope of boulders leads down to a shoreline that stretches for around two city blocks on the other side. The beach thins out then, ending at a steep hill that leads to downtown Reed Point. The sand is fine, almost white, and when the tide is high, the beach virtually disappears. I remember visiting my Gran when I was little and asking her where the beach disappeared to. Her answer always the same: The ocean is mysterious, wild, and free. Tides do what tides do. They turn.
A little while later, I’m walking towards home with my board in my arms. There is no one in sight, not even a shorebird on the beach. Grayson disappeared into his house an hour ago and I haven’t seen him since.
Until now. I’m 20 feet or so from home when his front door opens, and he steps outside. He starts to head towards the side of the house but stops in his tracks when he notices me staring. He turns and strolls across his front lawn towards me with a smile on his lips.
“Hey! Perfect timing. I wanted to talk to you about your car.”
“Okay.” The board is heavy in my arms, so I set it and the paddle down next to my feet. “I looked for you this morning to ask you about it,” I say, and dammit, all of a sudden, I feel all fuzzy.
Did it just get 10 degrees hotter outside, or is it just me? I’m warm everywhere. I grab hold of the lapel of the oversized button-up that I threw on over my bikini and fan it away from my body, trying to get some air flow going. I catch Grayson’s dark eyes dip down to my chest, staying there for a moment—a long moment—before he tears his gaze away, looking out at the ocean.
I swallow what feels like cotton in my mouth.
“I’ve got it handled,” he says.What does he have handled? What the heck were we even talking about? I know what I’m imagining handling— Fuck. No, Sierra. Stop thinking about his package.
His chocolate eyes hold mine as he smirks. He’s fearless.
I feel my body flush. Not only is Grayson gorgeous, but he’s a huge flirt. He doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. If I’m smart, I should say goodbye now and barricade myself inside my house.
But being around Grayson is fun, and the thing is… I’m lonely. I’ve been in this house for over a week now by myself and while I know my brother wouldn’t want Grayson anywhere near me, I like spending time with him. He makes me feel… tingly. And I like it.
“Your car, Sierra. I’ve taken care of it. It’s at my dad’s shop, ready first thing tomorrow morning.”
That’s right. My car.“Thank you. That’s really nice of you and your dad. I appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem,” he says, looking down at my board. “How was your paddle?”
“It was nice, thanks.”
“And what are you planning on doing now?”
“I have to get some work done on the house. You?”
“No plans,” he says, combing his fingers through his blond hair. Grayson is standing so close to me that I can smell his aftershave. It’s dizzying. “How about you let me help you? I’m very good with a paint brush.”
