Sandover Beach Memories

by Emma St Clair

  “I think you’re right. And I’m glad for the time right now. Speaking of right now, I’m here to help. Want to wait on the food or are you ready for a break right now?”

  Jenna groaned. “Break. Food. I don’t know how much more I can do today. I’m at that point where I just want to burn it all down.”

  “Dinner, then. Because we can’t have Beau and Jimmy showing up with the fire truck for every date.” Jackson began to pull things out of bags. When Jenna realized that they were Bohn’s bags, she groaned.

  “I should have warned you. I don’t have pots and pans or anything to cook with.”

  “Cooking?” Jackson smirked. “I think you have me confused with someone else. I let the café do the heavy lifting on this one. And you should be glad about that. The only version of cooking I do is manning a grill. I flip a mean burger.”

  “Okay, so you want to address our flaws right now? Well, I don’t cook either. I do think I could grill without burning a hot dog, though. Maybe.”

  “Sounds like a challenge. Next time you’re at my place, we’ll have a grill-off.”

  Jenna giggled. “You’re on.” She leaned against the counter as he continued unloading: a delicious-smelling rotisserie chicken, roasted potatoes, green beans with almonds, a big salad, and a bottle of wine.

  She admired the food, but also Jackson. Other than a few lines around his eyes and a much bigger build, Jackson looked like he could have stepped right out of the Sandover High yearbook in his jeans and fitted gray T-shirt.

  “Like what you see?” Jackson wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Yes, dinner looks fantastic.” She bumped her hip into his. “No wine for me, though. I know that our first meeting last week was me trying to buy wine at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning, but I’ve actually stopped drinking. At least for a while. I don’t think I have a problem, per se, but it was becoming a crutch. Since we’re sharing all our flaws tonight. Might as well share that one.”

  Jackson studied her. Jenna was afraid that she might see judgment or disappointment there, but instead she saw something like respect. “That’s really wise. You’ve been through a lot, so it’s understandable. Actually, other than losing your mother, which is huge, I know very little about what’s been happening with you.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. It made sense to cover all this early on, but Rachel’s warning about moving too fast echoed in her mind. Jackson didn’t miss her obvious hesitation and reached for her hand, enveloping her fingers in his. The gesture made her feel at once cared for and safe.

  “You don’t have to talk to me about this, Jenna. At least not yet. I mean, we’re on date two. Or one, depending on how you count.”

  “You kissed me in the elevator, so I think it has to count as our first date. Or half date. Maybe this is one-point-five. I’d like to talk to you about my disastrous marriage, if nothing else, to get it out of the way. But we definitely need food first.”

  Jackson gave her fingers a final squeeze before letting go. He turned and fixed them each a paper plate of food. “I totally cheated and texted Rachel for food tips. I hope that’s okay.”

  “How did you get her number?”

  “Church this morning.”

  “Oh.” Her jaw clenched. Jenna had refused to go with Rachel this morning, at first saying she wanted to get work done, and then, when pressed, simply snapped at her sister. It had been almost six months since she had been inside a church or cracked open the Bible. She didn’t want to talk about it with Rachel, or anyone. But of course, Jackson pressed.

  “Out of curiosity, why didn’t you come?” Jackson abandoned the plates for a moment and turned to face her.

  Tension radiated from her body as Jenna fought to find words. When she met his eyes, they weren’t accusing like she had expected. Only curious. Concerned, even. She sighed. “I haven’t been in months. God and I are kind of in a fight.”

  His lip quirked, but he didn’t smile. “A fight, huh? Who’s winning?”

  “Definitely not me. I’m not sure he’s actually fighting, so it’s a little one-sided.” It felt like a relief to say the words, especially to see the way Jackson nodded like he understood. And he seemed to get the fact that this was a hard admission to make because he turned and picked up the plates. “Where are we eating?”

  “How about the back deck? It’s not as great a view as yours, but still pretty nice.”

  The wrought iron table and chairs on the deck were covered in a thin layer of pollen, so Jenna wiped them down and Jackson carried out the plates. Jackson jumped up as soon as they sat down. “One more thing! I left it in the car. Eat—don’t wait.”

  He ran down the steps from the porch to the driveway and returned a moment later with a small plastic bag from Surly’s, a big box store near the edge of the island that sold everything from clothes to home goods. He set it in front of her plate and sat down again, smiling and looking pleased with himself. Jenna pulled a small box from the bag.

  “Excuse the wrapping. It’s a Bluetooth speaker,” Jackson said. “You said you wanted music.”

  “I meant for you to bring something, not buy me something.”

  “I knew what you meant.”

  Jenna took the small gray speaker out of the box, trying not to look at Jackson. It was a small cylinder that fit in the palm of her hand. Surly’s wasn’t a high-end kind of store, but the gesture was everything. She very clearly remembered the last gift that Mark had bought for her. Not a Christmas or birthday gift, but a just-because gift. The kind with no occasion.

  The memory was clear because it was so rare: five years ago, he had picked up a hardcover book for her from the airport bookstore on his way home from a business trip. A thriller, when she usually read women’s fiction. “I thought you might like it. I read it on the plane,” he had said. Not really a present at all.

  “I can set it up for you if you want.” Jackson’s voice jolted her back to the present. “Bring me your phone.”

  Jenna couldn’t speak until she had gotten the thick knot of emotion in her throat under control. She passed it across the table and got up to get her phone from the kitchen. When she brought back her phone, he had everything set up.

  “It’s ready. It should automatically connect to the speaker whenever you’re home. If not, just open the Bluetooth settings on the phone and make sure they’re on. Think you can handle that, Monroe?”

  She grinned at the nickname. It immediately made her feel closer to Jackson. She wanted to ask him to say it again and again. “I think I can handle this.”

  “Pick a song. Let’s see this baby in action.” He clapped his hands together.

  Jenna scrolled through her music and hit play. The speaker came to life and Jenna leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes with a smile. Despite the pressure of all she still had left to do inside the house, the music instantly relaxed her. She finally stopped hearing the doubt from Rachel’s warning and the other worries that had gathered like storm clouds. The song swept them all away.

  “Care to dance?” His chair scraped back and Jenna opened her eyes to see him standing over her, holding out his hand.

  “Shouldn’t we eat?”

  “Food can wait. The music’s calling.”

  “I don’t really dance. And this isn’t exactly dancing music.”

  “I’m a terrible dancer. I just sway. You can handle that. Sway with me, Monroe.”

  Taking his hand, Jenna let him pull her up and then flush against him. True to his word, he swayed her in small circles over the porch. Though she had never danced with Jackson, everything about this felt familiar. The feel of his hands on her waist, the way their bodies aligned perfectly, and even his smell. It was not something she could name, exactly, but just Jackson.

  This was her favorite kind of music—folky and acoustic with rich lyrics. It seemed to wrap around them, blanketing them in peaceful notes and rich melodies. Even though she said it wasn’t dancing music, it was exactly perfect for thi
s moment with Jackson. Their first dance, on the back porch of her childhood home, wrapped up in his arms.

  “Who is this, by the way?”

  “Iron and Wine.”

  “I haven’t heard of them.”

  “Him. It’s a guy.”

  “I think I like it.”

  “Let’s hope so. That’s kind of a prerequisite.” Jenna nestled her head closer to his chest.

  “We’ve gone from sharing our weaknesses to having prerequisites. Let me know next time so I’m prepared. Here I thought this was a simple second date.”

  “You mean one and a half-th date.”

  “Can’t get anything past you, Monroe. Anyway, I’m glad I like the music so I don’t get kicked out on date one-point-five.”

  “It’s my soul music,” she said, not intending to say it. The words sounded silly out loud.

  But Jackson did not laugh and instead kissed her temple, letting his lips linger. “I can see that. Or—hear it, I guess. It’s you. Jenna Monroe Music.”

  “Do you really know me well enough to say that?” Jenna mentally cringed at the words. She hadn’t spoken sharply, but they felt too honest.

  Jackson didn’t even flinch. “Tough question with a complicated answer. I feel like I know you so well and not at all. I told you yesterday that I liked you back in high school. Really, I have since then. Not in a creepy way, but I always watched you.” He chuckled. “Okay, that still sounds creepy. I noticed you. I felt like a moth to a flame. If you were somewhere, I noticed. But, obviously, we weren’t ever close. I only know what I saw.”

  “What did you see?” Jenna felt greedy whispering the question, but after Mark, she felt like she needed more commitment before she could fully open herself up to even the possibility of him. This thing with Jackson, it was powerful and fast. Like a riptide, he was pulling her away from safe shores. She needed some assurance of faith that she could really trust him.

  His arms tightened around her and his lips moved to her cheek, where his breath fanned over her skin as he spoke. “I saw a girl who loved well and loved hard. Fierce and loyal, funny and unique. A girl far too good for the guy she was with, and far too good for me.”

  “Jackson—”

  “Don’t argue, Monroe. It was true back then and is true now. I will never feel good enough for your love, should you ever offer it. But I’m not stupid enough to turn you away if you do. I will simply be thankful for the gift.” He pulled back enough that he could cup her face in his hands. “That’s what you are, you know. My gift.”

  She had no words. Jenna wanted to respond in a way that told him how treasured he made her feel. She longed to find a way to tell him the goodness and kindness she saw in him. But the ability to speak escaped her. Instead, Jenna lifted up on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Just one sweet, tender kiss.

  Sighing, she pressed her face back into his neck. His chin rested on her hair and he lifted a hand to touch her neck, the barest motion of his fingertips. It sent a shudder down the length of her body.

  Remember this moment, she told herself, trying to take in every part of it to commit to memory. The warm melody of “Claim Your Ghost” played around them. The night sounds of frogs and insects stirred awake in the marsh woods behind them, what she always thought of as summer sounds. As she continued to sway, safe in Jackson’s arms, Jenna began to believe that just maybe, this moment was the beginning of many more beautiful moments to come with this man whose arms felt like home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jackson cracked his neck and stretched while waiting for Mercer to answer her phone. He had stepped out onto Jenna’s back deck so she wouldn’t overhear the call. She picked up after a few rings, sounding breathless. “Hey, Mercer. Are we all set for Saturday’s first farmer’s market?”

  “I think so. I’ve tried to plan for everything, but it’s hard to know exactly what you’ll need until you’ve had an event once.” She snorted. “Then, of course, you see all the things that should have been done but weren’t.”

  “It’s going to be great. I’m sorry I haven’t been around this week to help. Not that you need it.”

  Jackson had spent the last five days with Jenna, helping pack up her mom’s house. And talking and kissing. If it hadn’t been for the impending deadline, he wouldn’t have minded a little less work and a lot more kissing. He knew she needed his help and the task did keep Jackson from pushing her boundaries too hard. He hoped, anyway. Every day it seemed like Jenna opened up a little bit more, her walls crumbling bit by bit. That had to be a good thing, though Beau had warned him to let things unfold naturally, not to force things too fast.

  After all this time, Jackson didn’t want to scare her off by going too fast, even if in his mind, he was already there. He knew what he wanted—had dreamed of for a long time—and keeping pace was a constant battle. Jenna’s marriage had ended only months before. Though it was clear she had no lingering feelings toward her ex, Jackson worried that jumping into another marriage so soon would send her running, far and fast. But his mind had already moved firmly into the marriage camp. So much of his life felt like wasted time. He wanted to spend the rest of it loving this woman and building a life with her.

  And after hearing about her ex, Jenna deserved love and a happy life. Jackson had a hard time keeping his anger in check when she told him about Mark’s many affairs. She had looked so vulnerable, lip trembling and looking down at her lap. He knew that he couldn’t take away her hurt, but he wanted to show her just how much she meant to him and how much worth and value she had. He struggled with a constant tension between letting all his feelings hang out and pulling back so he didn’t rush her. She didn’t trust easily. Jackson needed to earn and keep her trust. That wouldn’t happen for her in a week.

  So he didn’t press her for a conversation on what was happening between them. He simply showed up at her house every day with a smile, ready to help, hoping that her desire would unfold to match his. It kept him in a state of constant tension, trying to hold himself back. He kept his internal struggle and his rage toward her ex under wraps, taking it out on the punching bag at home every night.

  “What happened to your hands?” she had gasped when he showed up with bloody knuckles the morning after she told him about Mark.

  Jackson had been so mad that he had gone straight from his Jeep to the heavy bag, not taking the time to wrap his hands. “Oh, just some boxing practice.” He couldn’t even regret it when Jenna fussed over him, insisting on icing his hands and then giving him a hand massage. Which had nothing to do with sore knuckles and everything to do with the fact that she clearly craved being close to him the same way he relished her touch.

  Mercer’s voice broke into his thoughts. “You will be here Saturday, right? This week has been fine, but I think it’s important that you’re there.”

  “Of course. Jenna’s house will officially be on the market, which means we’ll be done here. She’ll meet me there. But I’ll be there early and all day to help. She knows I’ll be doing work and promised to help as well, or entertain herself if she needs to.”

  There was a brief pause. “I’m really happy for you, Jackson.”

  He smiled. “I’m happy for me too.” Glancing toward the house, he made sure that Jenna was out of earshot. “I know you’ll be busy with the new Bohn’s Local stuff, but any new houses to look at? The one yesterday was just okay. Fine, but not great.”

  Jackson had given Mercer another task: to find a place for Jenna to live. She had been too stressed this week to even think about options. Was this pushing too far? It probably crossed a few lines. Maybe more than a few. But Jackson was working on a way to help without seeming like he was helping, hence the secrecy.

  “I agree. An okay option, but not perfect. I’ve got a few other houses. I’ll send you an email with the listings.”

  He grinned. “You are so fantastic. Thank you.”

  Jackson caught Jenna watching him through the window, her expression
unreadable. Hopefully she hadn’t heard him. He dropped his voice and turned his back to Jenna.

  “Thanks, Mercer. See you Saturday. Call me before if you need anything.”

  “Everything okay?” Jenna joined him just as he hung up the phone. He slipped it into his back pocket and pulled her in close.

  “Just finalizing plans with Mercer for the Farmer’s Market Saturday. I hope you’ll still come with me.”

  “Mercer, huh? I forgot about the Farmer’s Market, but I’d be glad to be anywhere but here. Are you sure you don’t need to be at the store right now, getting things set up?”

  “I have complete faith in Mercer. She’s amazing.”

  Jenna smiled, but Jackson could read something in her eyes. She seemed hesitant or upset. Packing up her mother’s life and all the memories was heavy work. He had done his best to lighten her mood, to keep her fed and laughing, but it was still emotionally taxing.

  “Everything okay?” He brushed her hair back from her face, letting his hand linger on her neck. She shivered and then smiled again. A better, lighter smile this time.

  “More than okay. Because I’ve got you. I do have you, right?”

  “That shouldn’t even be a question, Monroe. You’ve got me.”

  For as long as you’ll have me. He bent down to kiss her when there was a frantic ringing of the doorbell. Jenna pulled back, giving him a rueful smile.

  “Later,” she said in a low voice. Jackson felt a thrill at the promise as he followed her inside. That was when they started hearing the sirens over the banging on the door.

  Jenna flung open the door. An older woman stood on the porch. She looked vaguely familiar, but Jackson didn’t immediately know her. The sirens were wailing right outside now, red lights flashing.

  “Ethel!” Jenna grabbed the woman in a hug. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Bob. He fell. The ambulance is here. I just—I couldn’t get Steve. He said he was with you earlier this week and I thought you could reach him. Can you tell him we’re going to the hospital?”