Sandover Beach Memories

by Emma St Clair

  Jenna dropped her gaze. He didn’t want to be with her. The pain of his words moved through her like poison and she tried to hold it together. When he put his fingers under her chin and tried to lift her face, she resisted at first. But when he said her name, softly, she let him tilt her head up to look at him. His eyes were soft and full of tenderness.

  “Jenna, it’s not that I don’t want a relationship with you. I absolutely do. And I hope you want one with me. I’m not sure it’s going to work for me to take things slow. I’m trying. I will try. I don’t want to rush you.”

  “We don’t need to take things slow. I mean, I don’t want to take things slow. I’ve let so much of my life just go by when I was miserable and lonely. I don’t want to waste any more time. I want you, Jackson. If you still want me.”

  “There’s no question. You’re it for me, Monroe.”

  His words nestled down into her heart. Jenna felt at once breathless and calm, as though an inexplicable peace had settled like a blanket over the surge of nervous excitement and joy. Words came back to her suddenly: The peace of God, which passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. The passage in Philippians had been about taking worries to God in prayer, not romantic relationships, but Jenna felt sure that the peace she felt now could only have come from God.

  Despite her worries and her past hurts and the fears and even the conflict she and Jackson just talked through, peace fell over her. Even with the nervous excitement and the way her heart wanted to fly out of her chest as Jackson leaned toward her.

  His lips found hers. He brushed them over hers in a featherlight kiss. As Jenna responded, tracing her hand up his neck to tangle in his hair, Jackson deepened the kiss. He released her hand and gripped her waist, pulling her closer, as though he couldn’t stand even the smallest distance between them. His lips swept over hers and Jenna felt like he was assuring her of his feelings. His kisses felt like safety and warmth, but also sparked desire that had answered his.

  He pulled back suddenly, moving his hands to her shoulders, holding her close to him, but keeping her back too. They were both breathless and he smiled at her with a brilliance that lit up the darkest corners of her soul.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Wow is right.”

  “So we’re clear, when I said I didn’t want to slow down, I wasn’t talking about this. I definitely feel like this shouldn’t speed up. Not unless we want Beau and Jimmy to have to put out a fire.”

  Jenna giggled. “Agreed. But I don’t want you to hold back. That kiss was …”

  “I agree. And don’t have a word either. That kiss was.” He pressed a tender kiss to the apple of her cheek and it was all Jenna could do not to turn her head and start up the kissing again. As though he could read her thoughts, he tapped her nose. “Let’s get you back up to the house. You look freezing.”

  “I am?” Jenna hadn’t noticed the way a chill had entered the air. The heat from their kiss had kept her from feeling the full effects of the wind. But now that he mentioned it, goosebumps popped up on her arms and she shivered.

  Jackson stood quickly and held out a hand to pull her up. He put his arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to him. When they got back to the house, Jenna moved to clear the table, but he waved a hand at her. “Leave the dishes. I’ll clear them later. I have one more surprise for you.”

  He led her to the fireplace. It had a mantle made of rough wood that looked custom-built. Jackson turned and took both of her hands. “I designed the inside of this house just for you. But in truth, I hope you don’t live here forever. I’ve got another house I’d love to decorate just for you. It’s got too much of a bachelor vibe going on right now.”

  She laughed. “Your beach house is incredible. But yeah, it’s a little empty.”

  He looked suddenly nervous. “It is, but it’s also about to be more full. Jenna, you should know that Megan is coming to live with me full-time, starting this summer. Things weren’t working out with her mother. We’re going to see if this is a better fit for her. If that’s something you don’t feel ready for, I understand.”

  “I actually feel okay about that. I mean, I have no illusions that it would be easy to just suddenly be involved in the life of an almost-teenager. But I like Megan. I’ve always wanted kids. Not a deal-breaker, Jax.”

  “I love it when you say my name like that. Okay, last thing. Did you see what was on the mantel?” He looked nervous again.

  Jenna’s eyes went to the weathered wood. When she walked over she had missed a small box that looked like—no, it couldn’t be. A ring box? Jenna’s entire body threatened to shut down when she saw it.

  “Hey.” Jackson tugged her hand and pulled her closer, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’m not proposing right now. I know you said you don’t want to take things slow, but that look—that panic right there—that’s the thing I’m watching for. I can see that you aren’t ready for that step. I want to go your speed. Even if you aren’t sure what that is or if it changes. Fast, slow, whatever. But that box right there is my commitment to you: I’m in this for forever. I will not walk away from you or cheat on you. I will not leave you. I feel one-hundred percent sure right now, and it’s okay if you don’t. Yet.”

  “Jackson, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. Not yet. That’s an engagement ring. For you. I bought it already because I’m a little foolish like that. And I know what I want. Who I want. That’s you, Monroe.”

  Jenna pulled in her breath. She wanted to say something to him, to tell him how she felt, to commit the way he was committing to her, but he was right—she wasn’t ready. Yet.

  “I’m not opening that box tonight. Not because I don’t want to, but because I know you aren’t ready. I think I’ll know when you are. Or maybe you’ll tell me. I didn’t quite plan out the details. We can both pray about it. If you want to talk about it more, we can. I think we’ll both know when it’s time. Maybe that will be a week. Maybe six months. But the ring is here. My heart is yours. I love you, Jenna Monroe. I think I always have, but now that I have you in my life, I love you more than I thought I could love anyone. I want to marry you. Whenever you are ready.”

  Jenna threw herself into his arms, pressing her face into his neck. She felt the scrape of stubble over her cheek and breathed in the scent of him. Jackson loved her. He bought her a ring.

  Though she always struggled to trust, always assumed the worst because of what she’d been through, Jenna trusted Jackson at his word. He came with a daughter—something new that they would both have to work through—and an anger problem. He held shame and guilt and regret. Jenna was just as broken in her own ways, but she felt that same peace quelling her fears and insecurities. Jackson was right. She wasn’t ready tonight. But she didn’t think it would be long.

  “Thank you, Jax.” She stood on tiptoes to speak in his ear. Her lips whispered over his skin. “This is the best surprise ever. You are everything I could want and though you’re right—I’m not ready tonight to say yes—I have no doubt I will be. Soon.”

  With this last word of promise, he turned his head and swept her away in the kind of kiss that Jenna felt like had only existed in stories. But this was her life, her man, and she felt sure that they would have their happy ending.

  Epilogue

  The cookout at Jackson’s was in full swing. But not even the amazing preview of summer weather could draw Jenna out of her funk. Above the sound of the surf, music and conversations rang out from the bottom patio, where Jackson manned the grill. Jenna watched him, as he flipped a burger, laughing at something Beau said. Her chest burned with longing. She had fallen for Jackson. Hard and fast. But he had been distant this week and Jenna was worried.

  It had been a month since Jackson had showed her the ring on the mantle. Two weeks since Jenna was ready for him to open that box. He had said he would know when she was ready, so she expectantly waited. Nothing. She started dropp
ing hints that seemed to fly right over his head. She wondered if she should flat-out tell him. Maybe he had overestimated his ability to tell when Jenna was ready.

  Now she was glad that she hadn’t spoken up. This week things shifted and she didn’t know why. Jackson hadn’t been ignoring her, exactly, but had pulled back. He was cooler and almost aloof. His smiles didn’t reach his eyes. His kisses were brief, lacking all the passion that had been building between them. He seemed distracted.

  A yawning distance opened up between them that only grew wider the more Jenna noticed it and pulled back. If he had changed his mind, it would crush her. But he should tell her one way or the other, not drag this out. She was starting to feel like he was just leaving her on the line.

  Ugh. Fishing analogies. That’s when you know you’re thinking too much.

  Jenna turned her focus away from the grill. She was currently beating Jimmy at bocce ball, a game she had grown up playing. He had played baseball and apparently didn’t know how to throw softly. His tosses continually landed the balls past the tiny white ball they were aiming for. His last one landed in the hard-packed sand and began rolling toward the ocean. Beau scooped it up before it disappeared in the water. He shook his head and lobbed it back. It landed right next to the white ball.

  Jenna laughed. “An admirable loss.”

  Jimmy groaned. “I don’t understand this game. You killed me. I think you On Island people invented it as a way of humiliating people who didn’t grow up here.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Richmond. Which gives you a very unfair advantage, I’d say.”

  “Aw, someone’s a sore loser,” she teased.

  “I’ll happily take you on in baseball.” Jimmy grinned as they began picking up the balls.

  “I’ll pass and go out on my winning streak. This is probably the only physical game I’ve ever won. Maybe I should go pro.”

  He snorted. She dropped the last of her balls into the canvas tote Jimmy had over his shoulder. They walked back toward Jackson’s house. He lifted the spatula from the grill to wave at Jenna. She gave him a weak smile back, trying to push down the feelings she was struggling with. Better to think about something else. “Do you think you’ll stay On Island or will you ever move back to Richmond?”

  Jimmy dropped the bag and got them both bottled waters from the cooler. His girlfriend, Amber, waved from the water, obviously wanting him to join her. He waved but stayed where he was. Maybe Jenna wasn’t the only one avoiding relationship issues.

  “I’m not sure yet. It’s definitely where I want to be at the moment. It’s been good for me.”

  “How did you end up here? I mean, we aren’t exactly the biggest beach on the map.”

  “Definitely not. And that toll booth almost kept me away. I didn’t have any cash the first time I showed up here. Packed my car, drove down, and then got stopped with no money. I had to wait for another car to come and beg for cash.”

  Jimmy had effectively dodged why he came here. She wasn’t going to pry. “But you still got on Sandover, despite the toll booth. And then stayed.”

  “I did. The rest of my family is in Richmond still. My parents, sister, her husband, and their two kids. I miss them all like crazy. But I love my job and I’ve never had friends like these or such a supportive community. For now, here is good.”

  Here is good. Jenna felt the same way. At least until this week.

  She glanced at Jackson again, but he was deep in conversation with Beau. He caught her watching and turned his body slightly away from her. Beau’s eyes flicked to her and he nodded.

  Her stomach dropped. Were they talking about her?

  Jenna wandered away from Jimmy and settled in a beach chair, watching a family just down the beach. That didn’t help. After five minutes of the couple holding hands and laughing with their toddler (who kept trying to eat sand), Jenna felt tears spring to her eyes. She might never have that. If Jackson had changed his mind … she didn’t think she could ever open up her heart again. She would leave the beach house that felt so perfect for her and move to Burlington near Rachel. Forget the way the beach called to her. If he rejected her now, she would leave in the morning.

  There were sudden shouts and Jenna glanced over to see Beau tossing Jackson—fully clothed—into the ocean. Despite herself, she laughed as he came up sputtering. Beau stood smiling on the shore, grinning with his arms crossed over his chest. “Now we’re even,” she heard him say.

  Jackson made his way out of the water, wringing out his clothes. He was still smiling that big smile and it warmed Jenna. Maybe everything was okay after all. “I’m going upstairs to change. Be back down in a few.”

  “Okay!”

  Snap out of it, Monroe.

  Great, now her inner monologue was using Jackson’s nickname for her. How had he managed to burrow his way so close to her heart in such a short time? She remembered when she first got back On Island and thought he was a bag boy, insulting him right in the wine aisle of Bohn’s. That would make a great start to their story one day, if there was ever a happy ending to share.

  Jenna wandered back to the house, wondering if anyone would notice her leaving early. She just didn’t feel like good company.

  “What’s wrong?” Mercer appeared beside her, sipping on a soda.

  Jenna groaned internally. She had been trying to avoid Mercer—the one person who would recognize something was wrong and press her on it. “Nothing.”

  Mercer didn’t speak, but simply waited. She was the kind of friend who knew when to push, but also when to wait. Jenna felt stupid being so worked up over a few changes in Jackson this week. It was probably not a big deal. She should just ask him. Tomorrow. Definitely not today.

  “Okay, something’s wrong. Maybe. But it will be fine. I think. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  “You know I’m here,” Mercer said.

  Jenna smiled. “I do. Thanks. Have you seen Megan?”

  Mercer shook her head. “Not for a while. I thought I saw her heading toward the house a bit ago.”

  “I think I’ll go find her. Thanks, Mercer.”

  Jenna only felt a little guilty for using Megan as an excuse for going in the house and escaping the party. She was learning that Megan needed to be drawn out and engaged. People tended to be scared off by her sarcasm and the way she didn’t seem to fear adults. Even Beau and Jimmy, two of the friendliest guys Jenna had ever met, gave her a wide berth.

  Jenna had made it her personal mission not to be scared off. Of course, now, if Jackson didn’t want to be with her, Jenna would just be one more person letting Megan down.

  Megan’s bedroom door was open and the room empty. Groaning, Jenna started up the three flights. If she and Jackson did get married, she would have the most amazing calves from all the stair-climbing. She still hadn’t set foot inside the elevator since the day she and Jackson got stuck. The first time he had kissed her. Her chest ached.

  She pushed aside the negative thoughts, trying to tell herself that she was just overreacting. Just a few weeks ago, she and Jackson had talked about the future, about living in this house together. It would make more sense as far as space, especially with Megan moving there in June. Jenna’s beach cottage, as much as she loved it, would be too cramped. Despite its size, this house was starting to feel more comfortable to her. Not as much as the beach cottage, which was where she and Jackson spent most of their time.

  Her house, as she thought of it. Jackson liked to remind her that it was his house, a point she refused to concede on. Even though he was right. “You may have lived here longer than me and technically own the house,” she liked to say. “But you decorated it for me. I’m paying the bills right now. My house. Mine.”

  “Don’t make me evict you to prove my point,” he would tease.

  But she knew Jackson loved the fact that she had settled in so well in the place that he grew up. She was constantly finding little surprises he’d left for her: blue soaps shap
ed like seashells in the guest bathroom drawer; a plate that read “You Are Special Today” in the cabinet, mixed in with the others; a hoodie hanging in her closet that smelled like him.

  And the ring in the box still sat on the mantel. These days, it felt like a kind of telltale heart—its very presence haunting her, teasing her, reminding her of what she wanted but couldn’t have. She couldn’t shake the tendrils of doubt, wrapping around her heart. What if his feelings had changed?

  Her stomach dropped.

  When she reached the top level, Jenna stopped to breathe. It was quiet, Megan nowhere to be seen. Jackson must have still been changing, but the bedroom door was closed. Jenna hesitated, wondering if she should knock and just ask him what was going on. But she didn’t have the guts. If he had changed his mind about what he wanted, she would wait for him to tell her. She tried to push the thought from her mind as she walked toward the front balcony. Movement in the tower room above caught her eye.

  “Hey.” Megan gave her a small wave from the love seat.

  “Hey, you.” Jenna climbed up and collapsed on the love seat. “Ugh. More stairs.” Megan huffed and backed up a little. Jenna smiled. Another thing she’d noticed: Megan moaned and groaned about having her personal space invaded, but it was more of an act. “What are you working on up here?”

  Megan had finally started sharing snippets of her videos with Jenna. They were surprisingly good. A little juvenile, sure, but then, she was twelve. Jenna’s favorite had been of Megan’s classmate, who was your classic mean girl. She had followed the girl for what must have been days, catching her in various insults and bad behavior. The background music was classic horror-movie fare. It was probably a massive violation of the girl’s privacy, but Megan wasn’t making the video public. “That would just be doing the same to her she does to everyone else,” Megan had told her. “I made this for me.”

  Jenna was impressed by that and by Megan’s ability to film and edit and put together a video. She wished that she had a passion like that. Then or now, she’d never had something she’d been that interested in.