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“I offered her hate sex. Would that be better? A smaller step, maybe?”
Tuck snorts. “Jesus fucking Christ. I thought I was in trouble.”
“You are. But so am I. It’s the only in I have right now. And yeah, maybe she can work out some of her feelings for me when we’re together, and the hate sex will become something more. Much more.”
Glancing over his shoulder at an approaching wave, Tuck says, “You’re gonna catch feelings.”
“I already have.” Or, really, the feelings I had for her ten years ago clearly never went away.
He grins again, shaking his head. “I give you credit. You ain’t afraid to dive in headfirst. Love is some scary ass shit, man. Not gonna lie, I’m still terrified.”
Tuck went through a nasty divorce a few years back. It killed him that his ex abandoned their family—she left them for a guy back in Tennessee, where she’s from—but now that some time has passed, I think part of him is relieved he doesn’t have to deal with her shit anymore. Even while another part of him hurts for his motherless daughter.
“You kidding?” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m scared as hell. But I’m doing it anyway. I owe it to her. To myself too.”
Tuck’s eyes move to the beach. Maren and Katie are in the water now. They wave to us. Tuck and I wave back.
“That fucking bikini,” he says through gritted teeth, smile still pasted on his face. “Gonna be the death of me.”
I get a call from Marianne about some glass hurricanes Goldie requested, so after I shower up, I head for Marsha Marsha Marsha down the street in Harbour Village.
The second I walk through the door, Marsha and Mom round the counter to greet me with hugs. They’re partners and co-owners of the cute little shop that’s quickly become a local favorite here on the island.
“Hello, handsome.” Mom pats my cheek. “We’ve been thinking about you.”
“We heard Louise Wade threw up on you earlier at the club,” Marsha says.
Mom nods. “What happened? Are y’all okay?”
“Hello to y’all too,” I say with a laugh. “Never fails to amaze me how fast word spreads around here. She’s fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”
“Fine indeed.” Mrs. Underwood, a fifty-something romance novelist who lives a few blocks from the marina, looks me up and down. “Clary, you sure do make beautiful babies.”
Mom smiles, the skin around her eyes crinkling. “He’s not a baby anymore, is he?”
I rest my arm on her shoulders. “I’ll always be your baby, Mom.”
“So you and Louise Wade, huh?” Mrs. Underwood says. “Your mom was saying y’all used to live in the Gibbes’s house. If I had to guess, your story with Louise is . . . what, second chance? Forbidden love? Opposites attract, perhaps?”
My pulse skips. “Um?”
“I’m always looking for new ideas. The Notebook was a huge hit for a reason.”
“Are you saying I look like Ryan Gosling? Because I’ll take that compliment.”
“Oh, honey, Ryan ain’t got nothing on you.” Mrs. Underwood gives me another once over. “Would you consider posing for one of my covers? I pay good money.”
I laugh again. “It’d be an honor.”
“Aw, look, he’s blushing.” Marsha grins. “We’ll leave you alone, Riley. But if you ever want to invite Louise over for dinner—”
“Because that wouldn’t be weird, inviting a girl I’m not even dating over for dinner,” I say.
Mom’s eyes dance when they meet mine. “Y’all seemed to be good friends back then. Why not invite her over now?”
Where do I begin? But I don’t want to ruin Mom’s day, so I don’t say anything.
I give my mother a lot of credit. It would’ve been easy for her to become bitter. Dad left her high and dry with an empty bank account and a teenage son to raise. But then I started making a little money, and she was able to retire from housekeeping to dabble in antiques. Then she and Marsha fell in love after running into each other in France. Now they own Marsha Marsha Marsha, a luxury boutique that’s exploded in popularity thanks to a combination of their cute social media feed and the amazing finds Mom and Marsha sell here. Antiques, hand-poured candles, and gifts galore.
I was Marsha Marsha Marsha’s first investor. To this day, it’s one of my best calls. Mom and Marsha are even talking about opening a second location by the Maritime Market, Bald Head’s other shopping center in the middle of the island.
Point being: Mom found happiness after my dad burned her life to the ground. It’s taken ten years, but she’s in a good place.
She’s also a good person, and I know she wants me to be happy.
“I’m actually here on behalf of Cooper and Goldie. I hear y’all might have some glass hurricanes we’re looking for? Marianne said something about a tablescape for the reception.”
