by Melody Grace
He blinked.
“You’ve been doing the whole ‘beach bum’ routine for years now,” Cassie continued. “Don’t you think it’s time you figured out a plan? Found some direction?”
“I have direction,” Chase replied lightly. “Towards my next best wave, beer, and woman. Though not necessarily in that order,” he added with a smirk.
Cassie arched an eyebrow. “Really? You didn’t find any ambition out there on the road?”
“Nope. But I did find a real nice girl called Amber, down in New Mexico,” Chase quipped, his gaze drifting back to those tanning coeds on the green.
His sister tossed the cherry from her shake at him. “C’mon, Chase, I’m serious. You’re really happy roaming around, sleeping in the back of that thing?”
“That fine recreational vehicle is a damn sight more comfortable than half the crappy apartments you’ve lived in,” Chase pointed out, throwing the cherry back. His van may look beat-up, but he’d spared no expense fixing it up into a snug, one-man cabin on wheels. “Remember that studio you stayed off Melrose Avenue? You flooded the kitchenette every time you took a shower.”
“Yes, and I grew out of that place in a hot minute,” Cassie said. She gave him a familiar smile. “Look, I’m not giving you a hard time—”
“—Sure sounds like it to me—” Chase said, taking another slurp of milkshake.
“—But I’m just wondering… Isn’t there anything more you want out of life?” she asked, her expression turning earnest. “A home somewhere? A career? A relationship that lasts longer than the next set of waves?”
Chase wasn’t about to admit, he’d been wondering the same thing himself lately. “If you need to interfere in someone’s life, go bug Aiden,” he suggested. “The man hasn’t taken a day off in years. He’s working himself into an early grave.”
“Aiden is smart enough not to pick up when I call.” Cassie said. “Which is a shame, because I’ve found the perfect woman for him.”
“Up to Aiden’s high standards?” Chase raised his eyebrows. “Who is she, a supermodel who just won the Nobel Prize?”
Cassie laughed. “Almost. Anyway, we’ll drag him out to Sweetbriar Cove eventually,” she said, a determined glint in her eyes. “But right now, you’re here.”
“Lucky me.” Chase gave her a sideways look. “But aren’t you the wrong Kinsella to be giving me the stability talk?” he asked. “You’ve bounced around more than anyone.”
But instead of snapping back, his sister gave a calm smile.
“Not anymore. I’m set. I have Wes, and Archie, and my interior design business is really starting to take off. It feels great, working to build something of my own out here,” she added. “You should try it sometime.”
“I work,” Chase reminded her. Sure, designing websites wasn’t as high-flying or glamorous as his siblings’ careers, but was the perfect fit for him. It put his artistic skills to good use, and all he needed was his laptop and a good cellphone service, and he could do it from anywhere: in the middle of the desert at Burning Man, or from a beach hut in San Diego.
Cassie rolled her eyes. “You work for an hour, in between surf breaks.”
“Hey, if my clients are willing to pay double rates, then it means I can work half as much.” Chase gave a smug grin. “I told them I was taking the summer off, and suddenly, they were throwing money at me to take their gigs. You should try it sometime,” he suggested. “People always want what they can’t have.”
“Well, as long as you’re happy…” she said, still sounding dubious.
“I am,” Chase stretched, yawning. Why wouldn’t he be? No rules, no commitments, nothing tying him down. He was free to do exactly as he pleased. “Now, can we leave the Spanish Inquisition to another day?” he asked, swiftly changing the subject. “Tell me about things with Wes. I can’t believe you guys haven’t killed each other by now. You’re two of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met!”
Chase and Cassie talked for a while longer, until she had to dash off to see a client. Chase watched her go, wondering if some things had changed, after all. It was strange to see his impulsive, wild-child twin looking so settled, and… well, content. She’d always been just as restless as him – and reckless too. They’d both been tear-away kids, leaping headfirst into the next adventure without giving a thought to the consequence. But now? Cassie was living in domestic bliss with her boyfriend, raising a puppy, and making plans to host for the holidays, six months from now. Chase was happy for her, but a part of him felt like he was losing something, too. His siblings had all grown up, and settled down. He was the only one left out on his own.
Because he liked it that way, he reminded himself. Commitments had a way of snowballing on you: one minute you were having a wild, passionate fling; the next, her clothes were crowding up your dresser, and soon it seemed like the best idea in the world to just make it official and get down on one knee.
And then everything changed.
Chase felt the ghost of an ache, somewhere deep in his chest he barely even noticed anymore. There had been a time he’d thought he wanted a soulmate, too. That he’d found her, and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. But he’d learned the hard way, the minute you put a label on things, started making plans and expectations, it all fell apart. Defining a relationship turned out to destroy it, and Chase had no intention of making the same mistake again.
Not when there were so many new, exciting mistakes to make, instead.
3
Letitia woke the next day, determined not to let her summer mission get derailed before it had even begun. So what if that hulking silver monstrosity was still parked slap-bang in the middle of her perfect view? She wasn’t going to let some random surfer guy get under her skin, no matter how good-looking he was. He could kick back drinking beers all day long if he wanted.
The beach was plenty big enough for the both of them.
She brewed a cup of coffee, and went out on the porch, positioning her chair so her back was turned to the Airstream and she could almost pretend like it didn’t exist. She was ready to get to work on the next item on her list. She had made it to Sweetbriar Cove, now she needed to rustle up an eligible bachelor – or two.
“Hi Kiki,” she called one of her old sorority friends, and after a quick catch-up, she casually steered the conversation around to her real reason for calling. “Didn’t you say your cousin had a place on the Cape?”
“Benjamin?” Kiki asked. “Yes, he’s out there right now.” She paused, “You know, he just broke up with someone. I always thought you two got along great, you should call him. Get drinks.”
“Really?” Letitia tried to sound cool, even as she pumped the air. “I mean, that could be fun.”
“I’ll send you his number,” Kiki said, “And I should put a brunch together, for all the girls. It’s been forever.”
“Absolutely!”
Letitia rang off, pleased. She ticked off Kiki’s name, and got right back to dialing the next number in her address book. The more men she met over the summer, the more chance she had that one of them would be the right match.
She knew she could have done all this back in the city; most of these men lived there, too. But it felt like every date she made got cancelled and rescheduled half-a-dozen times, because of his work emergency, or her family commitments. Then a couple of months ago, she’d been waiting at the hair salon, and found herself reading a fascinating article about vacation romance. Apparently, there was something about being out of your normal surroundings and routine that made you open up to new experiences – and new people. Throw in some sunshine and tanning oil, and people were falling in love all over the place. Letitia didn’t think it would be quite so easy – she was looking for a partner, not just a tropical fling – but she already could vouch for the ‘open minds’ part of the deal. This husband-hunting plan had seemed crazy back in Boston, but was looking more logical by the hour, especially as her list of potential dates
grew.
By the end of the morning, she’d caught up on all her old friends’ news, commiserated over their breakups, and discovered who had relatives, co-workers, and single friends in the area.
“I’ll give him a call, why not?” Letitia said, scribbling yet another number down. “I always love meeting new people.”
“New handsome, single people,” her gym-buddy Miles said with a wry tone. “Admit it, you’re on the hunt.”
Letitia winced. “Am I really so obvious?”
He laughed. “Only because I know the way you think. You’ve never done anything casually in your life.”
“True,” Letitia admitted. Her gaze drifted out to the ocean, where a lone figure was surfing in the early-morning waves.
It must have been Chase.
She watched as he effortlessly sped across the water, light as air. He’d seemed like such a laid-back person, but she couldn’t imagine the focus it took to keep your balance in the midst of all those waves.
“…And then she tossed her whole drink in his face!”
“Mhmmm…” Letitia murmured, still distracted. Chase finally rode a wave in all the way to the shallows, and slipped off his board with a splash. He picked it up, carrying it under one arm as he emerged from the water.
Was it just her, or was the world suddenly moving in slow-motion? As Chase strolled closer, she could see the water running in rivulets down his naked chest, over his tanned, delicious abs…
“Tish? Hello?”
She startled, almost dropping the phone. “I’m here!” she blurted flushing. What was she doing, drooling over Chase again? He was infuriating, remember?
Infuriatingly hot…
“I was just wishing you good luck on your quest,” Miles said, sounding amused. “The men of Cape Cod don’t know what’s coming.”
“Here’s hoping,” Letitia agreed. Because, judging by Chase’s reaction to her plans, they would all turn and run in the opposite direction. Fast.
She said her goodbyes, and hung up, just as Chase drew level with the porch. Up close, he looked even more disarming: blonde hair damp and glinting gold in the sun. She gave a vague wave in his direction, like she’d barely noticed him. Neighborly. Unconcerned.
“Good morning,” he called over to her. “Enjoying the view?”
Oh God. Had he caught her staring? Letitia’s cheeks burned. “The beach looks lovely in the morning,” she agreed.
“It feels great, too, you know,” Chase said. “The ocean isn’t just an accessory, you can go swimming in it, too. Splash around, cool off… Unless you’re afraid of messing up your hair,” he added with a smirk.
Letitia knew he was just trying to get a reaction out of her, but she refused to rise to the bait. “You’re right,” she agreed instead, smiling brightly. “Wet hair… That would ruin my whole day! I’ll just sit here, reading fashion magazines and painting my nails. That’s what women do, right?”
He chuckled. “Touché,” he said, grinning, and strolled towards the Airstream.
Letitia watched him go. See? The man was incapable of having a polite conversation! It was a good thing he looked so damn handsome – he clearly wasn’t getting anywhere on charm alone.
That was another thing for her list. Civility. The man she was looking for had to be able to go ten minutes without insulting anyone. With the number of charity functions and work events Letitia had to attend, good manners were a must. As her mother kept reminding her, the Prescott family had a reputation to uphold: They ran one of the biggest media and publishing companies in the country, and that meant more than just business. There were society galas, donor schmoozing, their work for the Children’s Hospital… Letitia had seen for herself how more deals were closed over a dinner party than in the boardroom. Whoever she chose to spend her life with would have to be comfortable in a tuxedo, shaking hands all night…
… And then be able to kick off his shoes when they got home, and relax, sharing a laugh with her about the stuffy society crowd.
It was a tall order, but Letitia had the whole summer to find him. He could be anywhere, at any time. So, even though she was just meeting Eliza for lunch, to go over some wedding plans, Letitia took extra time to pick out a breezy linen sundress, and a pair of cute espadrille sandals, before driving up the coast to the Sandy Lane Hotel.
“Hey!” Eliza greeted her outside the front entrance. “Brooke’s just finishing up a call, she said she’d meet us on the terrace.”
“Great.” Letitia followed her through the polished marble lobby, already busy with guests. “Wow, this place is really popular,” she remarked, looking around. There was a gaggle of women checking in, toting the gift-bags and matching sashes that marked them out as a bachelorette crowd.
“Brooke says she has a wedding booked every weekend until the fall,” Eliza explained. “All it took was one Hollywood starlet leaving her groom at the altar, and suddenly, this is the place to be! You’d think they wouldn’t want the bad luck vibes,” she added, grinning.
“Don’t say that!” Letitia protested. “There will be no bad vibes for your big day!”
Eliza laughed. “My medium-sized day,” she corrected. “You know the great thing about this venue?”
“You mean, besides the massive discount, and Brooke taking care of every last detail?” Letitia teased.
“That too. But the real selling point is that the gardens only hold two hundred people.” Eliza beamed. “I felt so terrible breaking the news to your mom that no, we couldn’t invite Cal’s cousin’s step-nephew’s lacrosse team. There just isn’t the space.”
“Oh, they’re such fun guys,” Letitia exclaimed, before catching Eliza’s stare. “But, you’re right, they don’t all need to come to your wedding,” she agreed. “Small, intimate, I get it.”
Personally, she found it way less trouble to just give in and get out of the way of the Prescott bulldozer, but if Eliza wanted to stand her ground and fight for the ceremony she wanted, then Letitia would have her back, one hundred percent.
“Even if it is small, this place is beautiful,” she commented, as they settled at a table on the terrace, with a gorgeous view down to the shore. Letitia could see why this was the most exclusive venue on the East Coast: everything was simple, luxurious and beachy, from the crisp linens at the table, to the yellow-and-white striped awning, fluttering in the breeze. “It almost makes me want a small wedding, too.”
“You’ve thought about it?” Eliza looked surprised.
“A little…” Letitia admitted, feeling self-conscious. She wasn’t about to tell her, she’d had the whole event planned for years: from the venue, and the music, all the way down to the bouquet of spray roses her tiny god-daughters would carry up the aisle. “But I guess I need to find someone to marry, first.”
“It would make life easier if we didn’t,” Eliza said with a grin. “We could throw a big party for ourselves, get everything on our registry list, then take ourselves on a fabulous vacation, too.”
Letitia laughed. “Yes… but would it really be so fun alone?”
She’d traveled solo, and in groups, and had a blast every time. But sipping wine alone at a sidewalk table, watching happy couples gaze adoringly into each other’s eyes, Letitia had always felt a pang.
Some things were just better with a partner to share them with.
“True,” Eliza agreed. “I’m about as independent as they come, but I have to admit, Cal does make everything better.”
She got that besotted look in her eyes, the one Letitia wished she’d ever experienced for herself. “Sorry,” Eliza added, catching herself. “I’m trying not to get insufferably mushy, but it’s hard, with the wedding coming up. I sat down to write my vows the other day, and wound up crying. Me!” she exclaimed. “Granted, I did have a raging case of PMS at the time, but still…”
“You’re allowed to be mushy. In fact, it’s expected for a bride-to-be,” Letitia insisted.
“What’s to be expected?” They were j
oined by Brooke, looking fresh and professional in a shift dress, her blonde hair pulled back in a braid.
“Eliza weeping with love and joy,” Letitia said, teasing.
Brooke’s eyebrows jumped skywards. “Eliza? Really?” she asked in disbelief. “It must be that time of the month.”
“See?” Eliza exclaimed. “You know me too well.”
“I hope so,” Brooke said, taking a seat and producing a binder from her bag. “Because I have everything planned out for the big— I meant, medium-sized day,” she said.
Letitia clapped her hands together, excited. “I can’t wait to see.”
“I can,” Eliza said, looking around. “At least until we’ve ordered lunch. Priorities!” she protested, when Letitia gave her a shocked look. “I know I’m going to need my strength to face all this satin and tulle.”
“No tulle,” Brooke said immediately. “What do you take me for? I promise, this will be a wedding you adore. Or, at the very least, don’t entirely hate.”
“That sounds like an achievable goal,” Eliza agreed, smiling. “But first: fries!”
They pored over Brooke’s binder for the rest of the afternoon. Letitia prided herself on being pretty organized – she had to be, with business deals relying on every decimal point – but Brooke took it to a whole new level. She’d already planned every detail of the ceremony, reception, and even pre- and post- wedding events for the bridesmaids and groomsman, narrowing down the choices for Eliza to just a couple of (impeccable) options.
Letitia was so impressed, she wondered if Brooke was available to freelance on other projects. Bachelor-shaped projects.
“You’re an angel,” Eliza said, after three iced teas, two bowls of fries, and a couple of scoops of sorbet, too. “But I can’t look at another floral arrangement today. I’m dizzy with delphiniums!”
Brooke laughed, and finally tucked the binder away. “You did good,” she said, patting Eliza’s arm. “To be honest, I expected you to quit before we even picked menus for the rehearsal dinner.”
