Yours Since Yesterday
Jennifer Bernard
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
About the Author
Also by Jennifer Bernard
Prologue
Fifteen years ago
* * *
Even though they’d been talking nonstop since they’d beached their kayaks, as soon as Padric and Zoe stepped into the ancient hush of Lost Souls Wilderness, they went quiet. They’d fought so hard for this chance—a hiking trip across Misty Bay…together…alone—that it seemed almost overwhelmingly exciting now that their trip had begun.
With each step, Zoe’s feet sank deeper into the thick moss of the path that led to Overlook Ridge. Up there, that was where they wanted to go, to where they could see all of Misty Bay, the vast ice fields of Lost Souls Wilderness, and even to the Gulf of Alaska. They’d been talking about it all summer, every time Padric stopped in for pizza on his way back from a fishing trip. He worked on his father’s fishing boat, while she worked at her family’s pizza shop. Neither one had much free time in the summer, but every time they saw each other, it felt like nothing had changed.
Best friends. With maybe something more hovering at the edge of possibility? Something almost too perfect to dream about?
Behind her, Padric made an eerie cawing sound that got her jumping. “Don’t do that!” she scolded him.
“I’m trying to warn the forest spirits that we’re coming.”
“The forest spirits?” She scoffed at his imagination. Of the two of them, he was the dreamy one drawn to the weird and the unusual. He blamed it on his Gaelic ancestry. She was more practical and good with her hands. “If they’re spirits, wouldn’t they already know?”
“If they know, isn’t it better to get on their good side?”
She laughed. “So that’s what that sound was all about? Getting on their good side?”
“It must have worked because no one’s pelting us with spruce cones.”
Just then, something dropped right onto the top of Zoe’s head.
She shrieked and jumped about a foot in the air. When she landed, her foot twisted under her.
“Ow!” Hopping on one foot, she grabbed for Padric’s hand. He helped her to a boulder that lay along the path—gray granite sparkling with embedded bits of quartz. She propped herself against it. Even though not much sunlight filtered through the tall canopy of the forest, the rock felt warm against her backside.
“Are you okay?” Padric knelt next to her in the moss. He picked up her leg and propped it on his strong thigh. A hidden shiver swept through her. So many girls at school had crushes on Padric, even though he was on the shy side. But he was picky about who he befriended, and for some reason, as soon as Zoe’s family had moved to Lost Harbor, he’d chosen her.
“I just twisted it a little.” She bit her lower lip to hold back the tears. Of all the stupid things to do only five minutes into their trip. “Maybe if I just let it rest for a minute?”
He nodded. “I’m gonna take your shoe off so I can see if it’s swollen.”
She gestured for him to go ahead. He rolled up the hem of her baggy pants—she was in the phase of hiding her body, embarrassed by all the new curves. Her skin shone white against the emerald green of the summer forest. He unlaced her canvas sneaker and ever so gently pulled apart the two sides.
When he rolled down her sock, she shivered again. His touch was so impossibly gentle. His hands were strong and tough from working on his dad’s boat, but somehow he managed not to hurt her at all as he probed her ankle.
“It’s a little swollen.” His voice sounded funny, tighter than normal.
“Hand me my pack. I have a first-aid kit with one of those ice packs that you crack to make it cold.” She was working hard to come off as purely practical. It was hard because the energy shimmering between them made her light-headed.
He opened up her pack and found the first-aid kit her mother had insisted she bring. “Props to your mom. How’d she know we’d need medical help in the first ten minutes?”
“She always thinks the worst is going to happen.”
Padric was peering farther into her pack. “Does she think we might get stranded for a year?”
She giggled as she cracked the quick-freeze ice pack. Mom had loaded her pack with last night’s spanakopita, an entire bag of cooked sausages, a two-pound hunk of cheese, homemade baklava and a few more goodies. “You know how the Bellini family is about food. There’s a reason we own a pizza shop.”
“I’m not complaining,” he said devoutly as he handed her a piece of baklava. “Here, want a bit to distract you from your pain?”
“Sure.” She accepted the baklava while he took the ice pack.
Very carefully, he placed it around her ankle and tugged her sock up to keep it in place. The cold immediately soothed the painful throbbing.
“Excellent work, doctor. I can pay you in dessert,” she teased.
Sitting back on his heels, Padric opened his mouth so she could pop the baklava onto his tongue.
They both savored the honey-drenched, flaky phyllo as it melted on their tongues. “That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever tasted,” he moaned. “What is that?”
“Just some Bellini family magic.”
And for some reason, those words filled her with a sense of power. Often she felt embarrassed by her family—so loud, so food-focused, so dark and curly, so hairy. But right now, looking at Padric as he swallowed down her mother’s baklava, she felt like a queen.
So she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.
She tasted honey and the eagerness of a boy. After a moment of surprise, he kissed her back, clumsily, lips bumping against her teeth. It took them a moment, but then they figured out how to fit together, how if they slowed down and opened their mouths just a little bit, lips could pillow against lips and tongue touching tongue could send electric shocks along their skin.
She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. It might have been just a few moments or it could have been much longer. She wasn’t paying attention to the passage of time at all. Her entire focus was on the exciting sensations somersaulting through her, and the sense of having stepped through a veil into a new world.
She was kissing Padric Jeffers—her best friend, her favorite person in the world. KISSING HIM. What did it mean? What would happen next?
Her phone rang.
The sound penetrated through the soft forest sounds—mosquito whine, creek murmur, squirrel chirp—like a buzz saw.
It wasn’t even really her phone. The only one in the family who owned a cell phone was her father, but her mother had insisted she bring it in case of emergencies.
She drew away from Padric. They looked at each with wide eyes, as if they’d just witnessed some amazing new discovery that was going to
change the world.
Her phone rang again, and this time it was joined by the sound of his phone. Padric actually had his own phone, which he’d bought with his fishing money. He used it, among other things, to call her from Dutch Harbor and Bristol Bay when he was fishing.
They both looked at their phones—alien hunks of plastic in this peaceful rain-fed wilderness.
“We’re both getting calls at the same time?” Padric said uneasily. “This can’t be good.”
Zoe felt the same; her throat had gone tight with anxiety. Her father had a heart condition, and she worried about him all the time. “Who’s going to answer first?” she asked nervously.
“How about the same time?”
She nodded.
Holding each other’s gazes, they opened their flip phones and answered their calls.
Immediately, a loud, angry voice rang out, reaching all the way from Lost Harbor to destroy the moment.
“Get home, now,” Zoe’s mother was shouting. “Get away from that boy!”
“What? Why? What are you talking about?”
But her mother sounded nearly out of her mind with rage. “You are never going to spend another second with him. Ever!”
“Wha— You mean Padric?” For a wild moment, she wondered if somehow her mother had been able to see their kiss. The only reason Zoe was allowed to go hiking with Padric was that everyone knew they were friends, not dating. Their kiss could ruin everything.
“That family’s dead to me. All of them. A water taxi’s coming to get you. I want you home in an hour. An hour, you hear me?”
“But why? What’s going on, Mama? Can you at least give me a reason?”
“Ask your father!” After sobbing those last words, her mother hung up the phone.
Heart racing as if she’d just downed an entire urn of coffee, she swiveled to look at Padric, whose phone call was the opposite of hers. He listened quietly, eyebrows drawn together, while someone spoke in level tones on the other end of the line. The contrast summed up the difference between their families.
“Okay,” he said. Just one word, but it sounded so sad and final. He closed his flip phone and put it into the pocket of his cargo pants, every move slow and deliberate, as if he was trying not to get hurt.
“What’s going on? I think my mother just completely lost her mind. She wouldn’t even—”
“We have to go.” He shoved all her things back into her pack—baklava, first-aid kit. “Can you walk with that ice pack on?”
“Sure. I mean, I think.” She stood up, testing her ankle. Not too bad. Not nearly as bad as the fear threading through her heart. “Do you know what’s happening? Is someone hurt?”
“No.” He swallowed hard. His face was pale. The usual dreaminess had vanished from his blue eyes. His mop of brown hair flopped over his forehead where he’d shoved it out of his face. He looked…shell-shocked. “Not exactly.”
“I swear to God, Padric, if you don’t start talking—”
“Your father…and…my mother. They were just…caught together. In…at a hotel.”
At first she couldn’t even grasp his meaning, not even a little bit. What hotel? Lost Harbor didn’t have “hotels.” The town had lots of bed and breakfasts and a couple of inns, and ground had just been broken on a fancy new hotel at the end of the harbor.
She just kept staring at him blankly as he shouldered his backpack.
“They’re having an affair,” he said harshly.
He turned and stalked down the trail toward the beach. She knew he wasn’t angry at her. He was probably trying to hide his emotion. In his family, emotions weren’t indulged the way they were in hers.
“No way.” She limped after him, oblivious to the throbbing in her ankle. “That’s ridiculous. They’re…old. My dad’s like, over forty. His hair is completely gray and he has a heart problem. The twins were just born! It must be a mistake. Padric, wait.”
Finally, he paused and ran back up the path to help her. She saw the fear in his eyes. “I don’t know, Zoe. My father sounded like it was real. He says we’re moving right away.”
“What?”
“He wants to get as far away from here as possible. We’re moving to Florida.”
“Florida?” All of this was too much to take in. The thought of Padric leaving was…surreal. Unbearable. His family roots went back further than most in Lost Harbor. One of the main streets in town was named after his family. Jeffers Drive connected Main Street to Harbor Way. “But you have a street here,” she said stupidly.
“The street will probably stay,” he said.
“Is this funny?”
“No, it’s not fucking funny.” He looked at her in despair. “I’ve never heard my father like that. He was crying. My dad never cries, not even the time he got a fish hook right through his cheek.”
She knew Billy Jeffers well enough to be stunned at the thought of him shedding tears. “Wow.”
They emerged from the forest and reached the pebble beach where they’d left the kayaks. The water taxi was already there, the kayaks already loaded onto it. They both started toward it, but the pilot, Old Crow, held up his hand. “Zoe only. Your father’s coming to get you, Padric.”
They looked at each, and suddenly all their time was gone. This was it—no more. A force bigger than them had swept through their lives and changed everything.
“Zoe…” he said, then shook his head. “I’ll call you.”
“Yeah.” Her throat was so tight she couldn’t say any more, especially not with Old Crow watching. She limped the last few steps down the beach toward the flat-bottomed boat. Old Crow helped her step onboard and closed the hatch behind her. She sat down on the closest bench seat she found and put her backpack on her lap.
Numb, confused, frightened, she watched the beach recede, with Padric standing alone against the backdrop of gray pebbles and soaring spruce. The taste of honey still lingered on her tongue.
Many things changed after that day, among them the fact that she completely lost her taste for baklava. Even the honey-and-walnut aroma of it brought back the shock of that time in the Lost Souls forest. That time when she kissed—and lost—her best friend in the same two-minute span of time.
Chapter One
Present day
* * *
Zoe shaded her eyes and craned her neck to get a better look at the man steering the small—but obviously expensive—pleasure craft into the harbor. It sure looked like Padric Jeffers, but the chances of it actually being Padric seemed ridiculously small.
In the past fifteen years, shy, creative, crush-worthy Padric Jeffers had grown into jet-setting, famous, still crush-worthy Padric Jeffers, the superstar singer-songwriter. He would be more likely to cruise into the Monte Carlo harbor with a movie star in the passenger seat.
He hadn’t been back to Alaska in fifteen years, why would he come back now? It made no sense, and yet the closer the boat came, the more the man at the helm looked like Padric.
Then again, her eyes could be fooling her. She wouldn’t be surprised, since it had happened a few times at the pizza shop. So many customers came through over the course of the summer, and inevitably a few blue-eyed, dark-haired men resembled Padric. Even though he’d barely turned fifteen the last time she saw him, she knew exactly what he looked like.
He was hard to avoid, being a superstar singer-songwriter, after all.
Dimly, she realized that everyone else had left. Lucas Holt, Megan Miller, the rest of the “harbor rats,” as the workers who populated the harbor boardwalk called themselves. They’d all gathered on the float to welcome back Lucas and Megan, who had just gotten engaged. And then she’d caught sight of the mystery boat, and she’d completely forgotten everything except possible-Padric.
No—definite-Padric. He must have felt her staring, because he turned his head and met her gaze. Dreamboat eyes, bluer than ever, captured hers.
The effect was electric. They hadn’t looked each other in the eye since that c
razy-ass trip across the bay. Just like that, all those emotions came storming back. Confusion, fear, anger—a lightning bolt ripping open her heart.
Astonishingly, Padric didn’t look much different from his fifteen-year-old self. He was taller and broader around the shoulders. Under the watch cap he wore, his jaw was firmer, his face more hollowed out, dark with scruff. His hair, longer than before, peeked from under his hat. The dark blue knit cap emphasized the strong bones of his face and the shine of his blue eyes—the eyes that had doomed so many women to hopeless crushes.
A smile began in the corner of his mouth. Eyes plus smile—now, that was a lethal combo. No way could she stay here and subject herself to that.
Without responding, she whirled around and headed for the ramp that led to the boardwalk.
She had work to do. A pizza shop to run. She had no business mooning around here in the harbor.
At a run, she took the steep ramp at twice her usual speed. Good thing they’d just put in new treads with great traction, or she would have twisted her ankle all over again. A seagull abandoned its snack—someone’s leftover fries—and flapped away as she charged past. A few tourists gave her curious glances as she landed panting on the boardwalk. She still wore her apron, after all. The damn thing was practically part of her by now.
Ignoring their glances, she took a shortcut between Soul Satisfaction Ice Cream and a new fish and chips stand. The boardwalk extended almost the full curve of the harbor, with just about every inch inhabited by businesses catering to fishermen, tourists, or sports fishermen. It had grown organically over the years, so instead of the buildings being lined up in a logical way, they tended to pop up wherever space became available. Occasionally someone added a planter filled with petunias or an old half-barrel with a hardy tree.
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