by Tia Louise
Nineteen
Chad
I should’ve walked to Tabby’s place. I’m too pissed to sit in my truck, driving back to mine.
Space? Are you kidding me? This afternoon she was riding my cock and screaming my name, less than eight hours later, she’s asking for space. What the fuck happened?
The minute I’m in my drive, I throw it in park and get out, leaving the keys in the visor. I don’t even want to go inside. I step out and start to run. I don’t have a plan in mind. I’m just blowing off steam.
I jog up the short drive until I’m at the cross section leading either left, down into town, or right, up into the old garden district. I take a right and follow the streets past the old houses. It’s darker here because the live oak trees line the path with their heavy, thick limbs filled with thick green leaves hang low, blocking the light.
When I get to Marjorie Warren’s giant mansion in the center of the oldest part, I take another right, heading down to the dead end road. It only ends for cars. A bike path leads into the trees, down the hill, past the scrub bushes, following the narrow road I’d been on earlier today.
Bearing to the right, I jog across a wooden bridge, my feet making dull thudding noises as I cross. The water trickles under it. So many little streams and creeks run through these woods. None of them are big enough for boating, but they keep this land from being developed. It’s too wet with all these small capillaries running out to the ocean.
The path drops down, still following the narrow road above. They both circle around, and if you know what you’re doing, if you’re a local, you know it leads to a secluded beach hidden by a cove. It’s pretty and private, and not many people come out here. They prefer the beach bars and social life out on the strip.
When my feet hit sand, I stop. I’m breathing hard and slick with sweat. The edge of my anger is slightly dulled by the exertion but not completely gone. Toeing off my shoes, I leave them at the top of the path and walk straight into the crashing waves, going under and letting it all wash away. This place is beautiful.
The sun is just creeping down the horizon when I emerge from the water. I start to walk along the shore, allowing the breeze to dry my skin and hair. It’s only about seven-thirty. I was anxious to see Tabby, and I headed over to her place right after dinner. The memory fans the smolder of anger in my chest—until the happy squeal of a little girl catches me off guard.
I trot forward and see a familiar sight hopping like a kangaroo all along the water’s edge. I look around, scanning the beach until I see Emberly following along behind her.
“Mister Chad!” Coco squeals and takes off running toward me. “Is Aunt Tabby here?”
As soon as she gets close enough, I scoop her up in my arms. Coco is such a funny little girl. Nothing bad ever happens in her world—unless you count Melody not wanting to be bossed around by her.
Emberly waves, and we slowly close the space between us. When we’re all together, I put Coco on her feet. “What are you doing out here?” I ask.
Emberly’s smile is a little sad, and she looks out at the breaking waves. “I try to get out here at least once a month.” Something wistful is in her tone. “It’s sort of a special place for me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” I don’t know her story or why this place might be special, but I understand going somewhere to feel safe or to remember.
“You don’t have to apologize. I don’t own this beach,” she laughs. She studies my face a second. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I try to laugh, but it comes out weird.
Emberly’s too smart for that. “I’ve seen you every day for almost a year now, Chad Tucker. You look like you’re about to rip somebody’s throat out or put your fist through a wall. Which is it?”
“Am I that transparent?” Her mouth presses into a frown, and I know I’m not getting out of this.
Coco takes off after a tiny sandpiper, and the two of us walk along the shore behind her. “I hate going out on limbs,” Emberly starts. “So stop me if I’m going too far. Is this about Tabby?”
“So the answer is yes, I am that transparent.” She gives me an empathetic smile, and I do a little shrug. “Things were going pretty great. At least I thought they were.”
“From what I could tell they were… then her uncle dropped by the store today.” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I never can tell if the man is really that clueless or if he likes pressing her buttons.”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, he just basically told her how proud he was of her for finally making good life choices and getting her life right and how much he approves of you.”
“Jesus.” It’s like a punch in the gut. My jaw tightens, and I shake my head. “Why the hell did he say all that?”
Emberly starts to laugh, but I feel sick. I know my girl, and I bet that was like rubbing a cat’s fur backwards.
“Yeah, he really fucked everything up.”
I rub the back of my neck trying to figure this one out. “What am I going to do?”
The waves swirl in around our bare feet, and the water is getting colder. Fall is coming.
She exhales a heavy sigh. “Bob Green approving of you is just about the kiss of death. But… I think you still have a really good chance.”
Tilting my head, I give her a little frustrated smile. “You think so? Why?”
“For starters, that right there.” She points at my face, and I don’t understand.
“What do you mean?”
“Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re a good-looking man, Chad Tucker, and that dimple. Shew.” The wind swirls her hair around, and she grabs it, wrapping it into a coil at her neck. “I’m pretty sure my best friend has fallen for you. Tabby doesn’t get emotionally involved… Seriously, I can’t even remember the last time I saw her sacrificing work for a guy.”
I think about what she’s saying for a few steps. If anybody knows Tabby, it’s Emberly. “So what do suggest I do?”
“What did she say the last time you talked to her?”
“She said she wanted space. She said I thought of her as a booty call… she said she’d call me later.”
“That’s good.” Emberly nods quickly. “If she said she’d call you, she will. Tabby’s not shitty. She won’t ghost you out.”
I’m not sure I like the sound of that. “So the next time I hear from her, she’s going to break it off?”
“I don’t think so.” She keeps walking, looking down at her feet, watching the waves swirl around them. “I think if you’re really interested, you’ll wait.”
“I don’t know about waiting.” I don’t like being put off.
“You waited a year. What’s a little while longer?”
“That wasn’t exactly waiting. I was dealing with my own shit.”
“And giving Tabby’s ass really hot looks whenever she’d walk away.” Emberly winks, and I can’t deny it. I might not have been waiting for her, but I sure as hell was noticing her.
For a minute we don’t say anything, then Emberly looks out at the sun sitting right on the ocean now. “When Tabby and I were Coco’s age, she used to cry a lot for her mom. Not crying like a baby.” She shakes her head and waves her hand. “She would hide and cry, like when she thought no one would see.”
My chest aches thinking of her hiding away to cry. “Why did she leave?”
“I’m not sure anybody knows, but it really messed with Tabby’s head.” Emberly crosses her arms over her waist. “It took a long time before she finally stopped crying. Then it was like she decided she wouldn’t let anyone make her cry that way again.”
“I would never make her cry.”
Emberly nods, giving me a smile. “I believe you. Tabby’s just been protecting herself a long time. She wants to believe. Can you be patient and help her get there?”
I think of the tattoo on her wrist. She said it was to remind her…
Reaching out, I catc
h her small hand and give it a squeeze. “Thanks, Ember.”
“Take care of my girl, Deputy Tucker.” She gives me a playful, stern glare.
“I intend to do just that.”
I’m frustrated and, I confess, a bit of a dick the rest of the week. The days are too long, the nights are too long, and Jimmy Rhodes had better watch his mouth.
“Noticed you’ve been by yourself a lot lately.” The little punk actually walks over to greet me with a smug look on his face. “Has our girl realized there’s better fish in the sea.”
I give him a tight smile. I know he’s pushing my buttons because of his crush on Tabby, but his use of the phrase our girl annoys me.
Crossing my arms, I straighten to my full height, which is a head and shoulders over him. “I got a call last night about a break-in down around one of the beach houses on Oceanside Cliffs. Where you around eleven p.m.?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’m only jerking his chain, but he gets nervous enough to make me suspicious. “I was doing my Uber rounds last night.”
“Not much activity in Oceanside on a Wednesday an hour before midnight. Who did you drive?”
“He actually was doing a run,” Wyatt walks up laughing, patting Jimmy on the shoulder. “I needed him to take my mamma home after prayer meeting.”
“That’s pretty late for a prayer meeting.”
“Yeah, she came over to the house after. That woman can talk!”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I nod to Wyatt, backing down. I am just messing with the kid anyway. Robbie thinks it was a deer or possibly a raccoon set off the house alarm. Still, I give the kid a stern look. “You keep your nose clean.”
Punk-assed kid has the nerve to call back to me. “Afraid I’m going to steal her out from under you?”
“There’s been some petty theft at the gas station as well. Not too many kids out of school to cause mischief.”
Jimmy juts his chin out. “Probably old Mabel Collier. Dre says she’s developed sticky fingers now that she’s got dementia.”
He’s right. I forgot Lance Collier told us he kept finding her pilfered loot in her mattress. He’s always very apologetic and embarrassed when he returns it, even offers to pay damages. Nobody takes him up on it.
I give up. “Leave Tabby alone.”
With a smug look, he goes to the other side of the hardware store, leaving me even more annoyed than when I walked in.
Nothing takes her off my mind. She hasn’t been in the bakery all week, and Emberly says it’s because she’s working on the Travel Time site. Their official launch date is right around the corner, and she’s double-checking everything.
I understand that.
It doesn’t make me feel better.
At night, back at my place, after I’ve showered, I stand with my arms propped on the bar thinking about having her here, sitting her up on this bar, kissing her. I should have kissed her that night out on her porch. Everything changes when we kiss.
Instead, I let her tell me she needed space.
My phone is in my hand, and I’m thinking about sending her a text when it starts to ring and vibrate. Turning it over, I internally wince when I see it’s my mother calling. I tap the accept button.
“Hey, mom. What’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a while.” I try to sound casual and not tired and sexually frustrated.
“It has been a while. I wish you’d remember to call me at least once a month.”
Great, here we go. “Sorry. It’s been pretty busy the last couple of weeks.”
“I’m sure a real crime spree has broken out. Someone steal Farmer Ted’s prize pig?”
It sounds like she’s making a joke, but I know my mother. She’s right there with Dad on being completely confused as to why I’m here in this small town working as a sheriff’s deputy when I could be running one of their multi-billion dollar logistics firms, playing golf with Charleston’s richest assholes.
“Actually, Petunia’s doing just fine. It was Maggie Sue’s turnip patch. Some local kids broke in it, and… well, the damage they did was shocking.”
“Be serious. When are you going to give up this absurd obsession with rural living and come home? Your father needs your help. The trucking line out of Burlington lost their manager, and you’re the best judge of character—”
“It’s not an absurd obsession. I have a nice place here. I’ve made friends, and I like it.”
“I refuse to believe that. You have never enjoyed small towns.”
“I guess I’ve changed.”
She’s quiet a moment, and I vaguely hear the clinking of ice against crystal. “I’m coming to see you.”
I sit up on the couch. “Don’t you have a ball or a ladies auxiliary function to attend?”
“I’ll drive down tomorrow. Is there somewhere I can stay?”
Standing, I walk around my place. It’s only one bedroom, but I could sleep on the couch for a night. It’s not too dirty. “You can stay here with me.”
“I can’t wait. Have your intriguing little hamlet roll out the red carpet. I want to see for myself how happy you are in Podunk by the Sea.”
That doesn’t sound very good. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We disconnect, and I stand in the middle of my living room thinking about what she said. She doesn’t believe I’m happy here. She doesn’t believe anyone can be happy outside her world… but she’s wrong.
My hand is on my stomach, and I’m thinking about Oceanside on a Friday night. Before I even consider it, I send her a text.
Are you busy tomorrow night? I haven’t seen Tabby all week. Emberly said she’s been working on that website, and I know she’s on a deadline. Still, she’s the first person I think of when I want to show my mother how happy I am here.
It’s probably a mistake.
I shouldn’t have texted her.
Seconds tick past, and she’s not going to answer. It’s almost worse than not seeing her.
The device buzzes in my hand. It’s her. No time for paintball, sorry.
I smile at her words. I can almost hear her saying them. Can you get away for a quick dinner?
Another few seconds, gray dots floating on the screen. I suppose I have to eat.
Full disclosure—my mom is in town.
Your mom? Are you kidding?
Tightness is in my chest. She wants to know about Oceanside. You know it better than me.
Your mother and me sounds like a bad idea.
Rubbing my chin, I can’t let her back out. I can keep things light. Just give it a shot. Tomorrow, seven, Blue Crab?
I never pass up an expensive dinner. Meet you there.
I hesitate a moment, then just fucking type it. I’ve missed you.
A few moments pass. I think she’s done. She’s not going to respond. I’m about to put my phone down when it buzzes. I’ve missed you, too.
That’s all I needed to know.
Twenty
Tabby
My third ad is up on the job boards for website developers. I haven’t stopped thinking about Rani and AJ’s offer since they made it.
Most of the week I’ve been focused on streamlining Travel Time. My sleep habits have been irregular. I go to sleep with my laptop in my bed, then I wake up and stagger into the living room to work on my desktop.
The soft launch went off without a hitch, thanks to me busting my ass then staying up all night Wednesday while friends and family trickled onto the site to poke around, build trips, customize, test out chat functions, watch videos, read reviews.
We only had a few glitches with the reservation search function. The website wouldn’t hold dates, and visitors had to keep re-entering them.
I spent the last two days ironing out annoying problems that would ultimately lose customers. Today’s tech users expect speed and ease.
Now, three days later, we’re still getting raves. Everyone’s talking about how much fun the site is to use. How they can’t wait to boo
k their next trip with us. How excited they are about making their travel dreams come true.
It’s exactly what we want to hear, and as soon as I logged off, ready to put the site to bed, I started updating my résumé. If I’m going to say yes to Travel Time, I have to be sure it’s what I want. I have to be sure I’m not giving up a chance at another offer, a better offer…
My brain has been like a computer with programs running in the background all week. Only the program running in the background is my life. Three days have gone by, and no one has responded to my job posting. Logically, I can’t tell Rani and AJ no if nobody else wants to hire me.
Logically…
Illogically, my stomach is in knots and I’m not sure I can say yes even if I don’t get another offer.
As much as I’ve tried, I can’t stop thinking about Chad and how he fits into all of this. I shouldn’t. It doesn’t make sense. We barely know each other. I can’t make important life decisions based on something that could end up being a fling.
I’d be like one of those girls who follows her high school boyfriend off to college then breaks up in the first month. Then she’s left wondering why she’s in Alaska majoring in Wilderness Studies when she really wants to be in New York majoring in Fashion Design.
This is my life, my career, the dream I’ve been working on for a year. I can’t let some guy derail it, no matter how thoughtful he is or how good he is in bed.
Ugh! No matter how many excuses I throw at it, the truth patiently waits to be acknowledged. Despite my annoying uncle’s speech, I really miss Chad.
Sitting on the floor of my cottage with my knees bent in front of me, I allow the feelings I’ve been holding back to rush in on me like a tidal wave.
I miss him so much.
I miss his strong arms around me, that deep dimple in his cheek, those whiskey eyes. I miss being naked with him. I miss kissing him. I miss his lips on my body and that beard scuffing my skin. I miss chatting about work and Coco and traveling and dreams. I miss Andy…
