“Almost,” she said.
“Honestly, I think other than a few bugs we might have to work out, this looks ready to test…” She hesitated. She’d wrongfully assumed that she’d need to coach and direct the kid. She had made a list of things to teach her the night before, but Marissa was far more advanced than Sarah had thought.
“So what should we work on?” Marissa asked.
Good question. She wanted to offer Marissa some value to this experience, not just pick her brain for the SmartTech app. “Um, what about updating your dad’s website?” She didn’t even need to visit it to know it could probably use some work. Wes didn’t strike her as someone who updated and maintained an online presence.
“What website?” Marissa asked, her tone conveying her own disdain.
“He doesn’t have a site?” Sarah needed to sit down. She pulled up a chair at her desk. “How is he getting business?” Was he taking out ads in the Blue Moon Bay Gazette or advertising on the bowling alley display screens?
“Word of mouth around town and a Facebook page,” Marissa said with a shrug of her tiny shoulder. “He stays busy, but I know we’re not doing so great…money-wise. He had to close his office on Main Street after Mom died. Aunt Carmen is his assistant, and she works out of our kitchen.” She seemed reluctant to admit all of this to Sarah, as though she sensed she was betraying her dad’s confidences.
“Okay, well, I think it’s time he had one, don’t you?” she asked Marissa.
Marissa smiled. “I think it’s way overdue.”
“Great. I have a fantastic hosting site we can use for free. I’ll set it up, and then I’ll leave you to your first official intern assignment,” Sarah said.
Marissa’s smile was full of eagerness when she looked at her but also something else—gratitude, respect, and friendship…and Sarah felt herself being drawn in to the family even more.
If she wasn’t careful, leaving Blue Moon Bay might be harder than she thought.
…
From his perch on his ladder two days later, Wes could hear Marissa’s laughter coming from inside the B&B as he worked, and the sound warmed him to his core. All week she’d been so excited to get to the inn to work with Sarah that she’d been up early enough that he hadn’t needed to wake her. Plus, all her chores were done before breakfast. He wasn’t sure what magic carrot Sarah was dangling in front of her, but he’d never seen his daughter so hyped about something before.
Which made his affection for Sarah grow to an unhealthy level.
So much so that he’d purposely avoided her as much as possible the last few days. He had to get a grip and see things for what they were—she was a friend from his past doing what she felt was the right thing out of obligation…she had no plans to stay in Blue Moon Bay. And while she was the hero of the moment for his daughter, it only meant Marissa would get hurt again once she left.
Sarah might be bonding with his daughter, but she’d definitely been prickly toward him since being back in town, and that was good. Knowing she was not struggling with the same sudden attraction to him helped keep his in check.
Except a few days before, that prickly exterior had vanished. He’d been seconds away from kissing her. Thank God her phone had interrupted them before he could do something foolish.
The sun dipped low in the sky, signaling quitting time, and he climbed down the ladder and gathered his tools. He paused outside the den window. Inside, Marissa and Sarah were sitting at the old-fashioned mahogany desk, their laptops opened in front of them, both typing furiously…but obviously chatting and making jokes as they burst out laughing every few seconds.
The knot in Wes’s stomach tightened. Marissa was getting attached to Sarah really quickly. Every evening, all he heard was Sarah this, Sarah that… Hell, he was starting to like having her around. Her easy, unassuming confidence; her determination in this venture; and the way she was the complete opposite of his usual type, he already knew he would miss seeing her every day once the renovations were done.
And he had no idea what to do. He certainly didn’t want to get in the way of the connection his daughter was making. The first real one in a long time, but he also didn’t want to see her get hurt…
He didn’t want to get hurt, but he suspected there would already be a void in both their lives once Sarah left town.
…
A week later, Sarah stood staring at the refinished staircase leading to the upstairs guest rooms. They’d preserved as much of the original structure as possible, and with the treated wood finish, it was hard to tell the original planks from the new.
Her grandmother would be proud.
“Don’t worry, we’ve reinforced all the stairs from beneath, so no one…else…will be falling through,” Wes said, wiping his hands on his jeans as he came up behind her in the foyer.
“It looks so great. Thank you, Wes,” Sarah said, wanting to hug him.
And not just because his white T-shirt hugged his muscular chest and biceps. Or because seeing him every day, while he worked relentlessly to help her get the place in decent enough shape to sell, had turned her formerly innocent crush on her friend into something fierce.
Not just for those reasons.
Wes checked his watch. “We should get going. We have dinner plans with my in-laws…former in-laws…” He shrugged. “I’m still figuring out the terminology.” His smile looked pained.
“Marissa’s grandparents,” Sarah said.
“That’s definitely an easier way to put it. Thank you,” Wes said, removing his tool belt and closing his toolbox.
“I really can’t thank you enough for all of this. It means a lot.”
At one time, he’d meant a lot. Sarah hadn’t realized the extent of her teenage feelings for him until those long-repressed emotions had returned with a new maturity. When she’d moved away and he’d married Kelly after high school, she’d firmly closed the door on thoughts of a relationship with him, ignoring the dull ache she’d felt seeing family photos on social media. They’d been so happy together that she hadn’t felt any jealousy or longing. She’d respected their relationship enough not to allow herself to pine for a man she couldn’t have.
Wes had been filed in the off-limits drawer for so long, she couldn’t take him out now. Could she?
At first she thought she was imagining the sexual tension between them, but after the near-kiss, she was certain of it lingering on the air whenever they were near each other. She was painfully aware of his presence all around the B&B as he worked…and she definitely hadn’t been imagining the looks she’d caught him sending her way when he thought she wasn’t looking.
But in the last few days, he’d also seemed to be trying harder not to be around her…avoiding her, even.
“My guys will finish the kitchen renovations this week, and then we will start on the guest room balconies.”
“Sounds great.”
“Ready to go?” he asked Marissa as she joined them in the foyer, her laptop under her arm and backpack on her back.
“Yep,” she said, then glanced at Sarah. “Hey, you should come to dinner with us tonight.”
This wasn’t the first invite, and Sarah was running out of excuses. She sensed a slight matchmaking attempt on Marissa’s part that she wouldn’t be completely averse to if Wes seemed at all interested in exploring the attraction between them, but as usual, he interjected. “We’re having dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, remember?”
Marissa looked disappointed that they kept putting her off. “Oh, right. Well, maybe another night?”
Sarah looked at Wes, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe.”
Wes shifted from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. “Um…Marissa’s spending the night at her grandparents’ house, so a few of us were going to Trent’s Tavern. If you’re not busy, you should come,” he said.
Okay,
that was different.
She hadn’t been out since she’d been back. A night out sounded great, and she wouldn’t lie to herself—seeing Wes in a different setting, enjoying a few drinks and laughs, didn’t sound terrible at all.
Which was why it was a bad idea.
Marissa’s hopeful expression confirmed how much of a bad idea it would be. They probably shouldn’t encourage the matchmaking going on in that genius little mind.
“That would be fun; thank you for the invite…but I thought I’d get started on the guest rooms.” She’d bought the paint the day before, and there was no time like the present to get started. She may not be great with a hammer and nails, but painting wasn’t that hard, and the faster she could get the renovations done and the place listed, the better.
“Are you sure?” Marissa asked as Wes led the way outside. “You deserve a night out.”
Sarah laughed at the persistence as she stepped out onto the deck and wrapped her cardigan around herself while the ocean breeze blew the flaps open. “Yeah. I should probably start pulling my weight around here.”
And stop giving in to any ridiculous notions that things could be more than what they were with Wes. Once the renovations were done, she’d be putting the B&B on the market and she’d be leaving. Their relationship would go back to consisting of her stalking his rare Facebook posts.
That was good. Out of sight, out of mind.
Though that hadn’t been the case before.
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join us,” he said, opening the back door of his truck for Marissa. He climbed into the driver seat, and his gaze met hers through the windshield, but she couldn’t read the expression behind those ocean-blue eyes, so she waved as they drove off, knowing she wouldn’t be going out that night.
If Marissa’s gentle coaxing that the two of them spend time together wasn’t enough of a red flag, her own desire to take him up on the invite certainly was. She couldn’t start a relationship with him when she wasn’t planning on staying. It wouldn’t be fair to any of them.
And when had Wes Sharrun ever given her a second look? Obviously any affection he felt for her was wrapped up in her giving Marissa an alternative to camp.
She headed back inside and into the den for her laptop. Noticing her grandmother’s journal still in the open desk drawer, she picked it up and carried it to her room. She’d forgotten all about it. But now, as she changed into painting clothes, her gaze continued to wander to it.
So odd that the journal had been sitting on the bookshelf. Wasn’t her grandmother worried that a guest might find it and read it? Or had she left it there precisely for that reason?
Sarah went to her dresser and, taking a bobby pin, she picked up the journal and wiggled the pin into the lock hole, moving it around until she heard a click.
That was easy.
Opening the cover, Sarah removed several old and yellowed newspaper clippings, then carefully scanned the headlines.
U.S.A officially enters the Second World War after attack on Pearl Harbor.
Under the articles were two pictures. The first she recognized as her grandfather; the other was a man she didn’t know. Both men were dressed in Air Force uniforms. Her grandfather had served in the Second World War for three years before returning home to marry her grandmother within six months, and Sarah’s uncle was born months later. Her grandmother had always talked about Martin Lewis’s bravery and how he’d won medals for his courage, but Sarah had never met her grandfather, as he’d died two years before she was born. Dove had never remarried, and as far as Sarah knew, she hadn’t even dated after that. She always thought it was sad that her grandma had spent the rest of her life alone, but the older woman had always insisted that you only find true love once.
She laid the photos aside and squinted to read the first entry in the journal.
Dec 5, 1941
Dear Jack,
Jack? The other man in the photos?
We said our goodbyes last night, and I’ve yet found a reason to smile. The United States joining this war has already caused my heart to break. I admire your courage and strength, my dear Jack, but I am angry and scared. Angry that you have left and scared that you won’t return. I have no way to contact you. I have no idea where in this world you are, so I will write to you in this journal, until someday I can give it to you.
This violence overtaking the world is cruel and senseless and I wish no part in it. But I have no choice—the biggest part of me, my heart, is with you. Fly safe, my love. Be safe. And come home to me.
Dove
Sarah sat blinking, staring at her grandmother’s script handwriting on the yellowed page. Then her gaze moved to the picture of the unknown man.
Jack? Her grandmother had called him my love.
Holy shit.
She picked up the pictures, along with the news clippings, and closed the book quickly, a shiver dancing down her spine. Dove had never mentioned a Jack. Ever. She’d been right about her grandmother having secrets, and this journal obviously held her grandmother’s confessions.
Sarah opened the bedside drawer and put the journal inside, unsure if she’d read anymore. What she already had had shaken her.
You only find true love once.
Sarah had always assumed her grandma had been talking about her grandfather.
Chapter Nine
His in-laws’ house was like taking a step back in time. And not entirely in a good way. Their older bungalow near the highway stretching along the coast was a museum of the past. His past. And Kelly’s.
The McKenna home hadn’t changed at all since he’d practically lived there in high school. The same comfy, dated furniture. The same curtains in the windows. The same appliances that Mr. McKenna miraculously kept running, fixing them whenever they broke and refusing to buy new ones. As a self-employed business owner himself, Wes could appreciate his former in-laws’ frugal ways.
It was the memorabilia from their past that always unsettled him.
His own parents hadn’t cared much about his football career and aspirations. They hadn’t really shown much interest in anything he did. An only child, he was clearly one they hadn’t exactly planned for. He wasn’t neglected; they just showed their love through financial support, paying for his gear and equipment and football camps but never really involved.
That was probably why he’d been so drawn to Kelly’s family. They were supportive of their children, the kind of parents who were at every game, every recital, every school event. They all sat around the table for breakfast in the morning and dinner every evening. They had board game nights and movie marathons.
And they’d always treated Wes as part of the family. They’d been over the moon when he’d gotten drafted after college, and their home was still a shrine to his past accomplishments.
He cringed as he entered the home, hearing the game on the television—his game. One he’d played ten years ago, his best game ever. His father-in-law watched it every time he visited, and Wes didn’t have the heart to tell the old man that seeing the game, seeing the future he could no longer have, ate away at his soul.
He loved his life in Blue Moon Bay. He liked his job. He loved being a dad. But there was definitely a part of him that longed for the dream that was cut too short.
“Hey, there he is!” John said from his old, worn leather recliner as Wes and Marissa entered the living room. A perfect spiral of an old football came toward Wes, and as per their routine, Wes caught it and tossed it back. “And he brought my favorite granddaughter.”
Marissa laughed warily and played along with the overplayed joke. “Pop, I’m your only granddaughter.” She accepted a hug from him as Wes sat on the sofa. The springs creaked under his weight, and the cushions molded to his shape.
“Your grandma could use some help setting the table,” John whispered to Ma
rissa, sneaking her a five-dollar bill.
“I asked you to set the table,” Carolyn said, joining them in the living room and swatting her husband’s head playfully.
“I don’t mind,” Marissa said, winking at her grandfather. She hurried out of the room, and Wes stood again for a hug from Carolyn. Her four-foot-eleven frame came to his chest, and the scent of her lavender shampoo was the same as always. She was an older version of Kelly—same red hair, green eyes, thin nose, and heart-shaped face, and his breath always caught at the sight of her.
“Hi, darlin’. Hope you’re hungry.”
The familiar smell of her baked tuna casserole had his stomach twisting, but not from hunger. It had been the Friday night meal at the McKennas’ before every high school football game. It was tradition. The family was superstitious and believed in not breaking the school’s winning streak by making something else. Carolyn still made it every time they came for dinner.
Wes could appreciate their need to hold on to the past as a way of remembering their daughter, of holding on to a part of her and a better time, but these visits were only getting harder and harder as time passed and he tried to move on.
And he worried about the impact they had on Marissa. Discussions never seemed to stay in the present for long. Always returning to memories of the “good old days.” Reminiscing was okay, but Wes wanted to focus on the future and how that looked for all of them.
“Starving,” he said with a forced smile.
“Hey, here comes the play,” John said, nodding his balding head toward the television.
Wes turned and watched as his younger self caught the ball and ran like lightning down the field in the Rams’ stadium, making the game-winning play, then fought the what-if thoughts that were never too far away whenever he was in this house.
Five minutes later, they bowed their heads in prayer around the dining room table and started to eat.
“Drove past the inn the other day,” his brother-in-law, Dustin, said as he passed the casserole to Wes. He was still dressed in a suit, having come straight from the bank where he worked as a mortgage broker. “Almost didn’t recognize the place.”
A Lot Like Love Page 7
