"Dinner with your brother might be good when you're twelve, but eighteen…" She shook her head. "You need to plan something fun that she'll really like."
"Got any ideas?"
She thought for a moment. "What about a spa day for her and some of her friends—your treat?"
"That's an idea. Where do you do that around here?"
"Lots of places. The Ritz Carlton has an amazing spa. I'm actually going out there tomorrow to have lunch with some girlfriends. We're not getting massages, but the restaurant is good, too. I think your sister would like it."
"So I should take myself out of the party and just fund it."
"Does that disappoint you?" she asked.
He grinned. "Not even a little."
"I didn't think so. Where is your sister today? Is she staying by herself?"
"No, she's staying with her best friend. At least that's the story she gives me. I'm a little concerned that she might be staying alone in the house, but I can't be with her every second. With my job, I'm away for several nights at a time. But I have to trust her. She's never gotten into trouble."
"Then you should trust her."
"Mom, look what I found," Brandon interrupted, showing her a huge shell on his outstretched sandy palm.
"That's amazing," she said.
"I found some other ones, too." He handed her the shell so he could reach into his pocket and pull out more of his treasures.
"Good job, Brandon. These are great."
"I'm going to get some more," Brandon said, dumping the shells into her lap, then running back down the beach with Wiley barking in accompaniment.
"What are you going to do with all those?" Reid asked.
"I have no idea," she said, as she put the shells in Brandon's bucket. "Some kind of art project probably. We have another two dozen shells at the house. I'll figure something out. Maybe I can turn it into a math project."
"You're thinking like a teacher."
"And a mom with too many seashells," she said dryly. "Brandon loves to collect things."
"He's lucky you encourage that. My mom would have dumped those shells in the trash first chance she got."
"I would never discourage curiosity. That's what childhood is all about."
"Or should be. Did you always want to be a teacher?"
"I did. I used to play school when I was growing up. I'd make my little brother be my student until he refused, and then I had to make do with my stuffed animals. I'd line them up in chairs and give them lessons. They never talked back and always did what I said. Well, not always. Sometimes one of them fell out of their chair and I had to give them a time-out."
He smiled. "You were very strict."
She laughed. "I was. I liked being in control of everyone and everything around me back then, and I still do."
"Your classroom is your castle and you're the queen."
"That's about right. What about you? Was it always the firehouse for you?"
He gave a negative shake of his head. "No, I had dreams of being an internationally renowned surfer for a very long time. The year after I graduated from high school, I hit the road and traveled around the world to surfing competitions."
"I didn't realize you were that good."
"I had my moments."
"What did you do for money? Did your parents support your adventure?"
"Not even a little bit. I saved up money while I was in high school. I did any odd job I could find, from construction to lawn mowing and dog walking. Once I left home, I picked up work and money wherever I could find it. I didn't need much, and I slept on a lot of couches as well as in the back of a car when I had to."
His words were vivid and filled with light and she could almost see him as a young man, barefoot, in swim trunks, dragging his surfboard from one ocean to the next. "You loved it, didn't you?"
"It was a great time of my life. I saw some amazing parts of the world."
"I'm surprised you ever came home."
"I had to. About six months after I left, my mom was hospitalized after taking almost an overdose of medication. She wasn't trying to kill herself; she was just anxious and stressed out. I don't think either of us realized how much I was doing for her and Tara until I was gone. A social worker told me they were concerned enough about Tara's welfare that foster care might have to be an option. Tara was only eight years old. I couldn't let that happen."
"So you came home," she said, impressed with the maturity he'd shown.
"Yes, and I went to college and then decided to become a firefighter. One of my best friends, Bill Carlton, was going that route. You met Bill the other night."
"Of course."
"Bill's dad was a firefighter, so he was on the inside track. It took me an extra couple of years to get there, but eventually I did."
"And I assume your mom got better once you were back in town."
"She did, for the most part. She still had her moments, but I was here to pick up the slack. I promised her I'd stay until Tara was grown."
"You're almost there," she murmured.
"Almost."
She thought about that for a moment. "Do you have any regrets about cutting your surfing career short?"
"I don't believe in regrets. And I love being a firefighter, so it all worked out."
"Are you ever scared? I can't imagine running into a burning building or any of the other things you do," she said, thinking there was definitely another side to the fun-loving Reid. "The other night at your class, it really hit home to me the kind of situations you deal with all the time. I hope I'm never called into action."
"You probably won't be, but if you are, you'll be ready."
"I hope so. The class was very informative."
"I'm glad." He paused. "So, tell me a little about your family, Jess. Are your parents together?"
"They are. My father is a doctor, and my mother has gone from homemaker and PTA president to helping run community fundraisers for the hospital and the community where they live."
"Are you close to them?"
"I'm geographically close now, but emotionally—not so much," she admitted. "My parents always had busy lives, and my younger brother and I were scheduled out with activities as little kids. There was a lot of emphasis on achievement. Whenever I spoke to my father, it always seemed to be about my grades or what classes I was taking. And my mom and I weren't much closer. But it was all pretty fine until I got pregnant and ruined my life," she said with a sigh. "Their words, not mine."
"They don't really think that, do they?"
"Oh, yes, they do. They were marginally happy when I married Kevin but then disappointed again when we got divorced. I can't ever seem to do anything right. But my little brother makes up for me. He's in his third year in medical school, so he's following in my dad's footsteps, and making him very happy."
"Your parents should be proud of you, too. You must have finished college and gotten your teaching credential while taking care of a baby by yourself."
She liked hearing the annoyance in his voice, knowing that he was on her side. "I did get my credential after Kevin left. I went through those days in a haze. The divorce made me realize that I had to take care of Brandon. I couldn't be dependent on anyone else. So I became a teacher, and it's been good, because I've had access to daycare and I get the same holidays and hours as Brandon, so it works pretty well. Plus, I like teaching, so it's a win-win."
"You're amazing, Jess."
"Not really. Just doing what I have to do," she said. "And Brandon is worth it. He's my life. I want him to have the best of everything."
"I think he already does. He has you."
Reid's quiet words, his warm gaze on her face, made her feel admired in a way she hadn't felt in a very long time.
Reid wasn't just good for Brandon; he was good for her, too.
As a gust of wind lifted her hair again, she shivered, realizing the sun was sinking lower in the horizon. They'd been at the beach for over two hours. "We should probably go," she
said somewhat halfheartedly, not really wanting to leave, but it was getting cold.
She stood up and called for Brandon.
As he came running in her direction, followed by Wiley, she said, "Thanks for coming with us, Reid."
"I told you to stop using that word. I was thinking we should stop at Caffe Romano and get some coffee for us and hot chocolate for Brandon. Have you been there yet?"
"No, but I've driven by. It looks charming."
"A friend of mine runs it. The coffee is excellent."
"I do love coffee, but we have Wiley."
"They have heaters on the patio. We can sit outside with the dog. This is a dog town."
"I have noticed that," she said.
"Then what do you say?"
Since she found it impossible to speak the word no where Reid was concerned, she said the only thing she could say. "Yes."
* * *
He probably shouldn't have suggested coffee, but Reid wasn't ready to say good-bye to Jessica, and he had a feeling that as soon as this day ended, Jessica would find a way to put up her guard and push him out of her life.
There was a part of him that thought that might be a good thing. She wasn't the kind of woman he normally went after. She had a lot of baggage with Brandon and Wiley and an ex-husband, and considering the amount of drama he had in his own family, he usually tried to avoid finding it elsewhere.
But her big, dark-brown eyes got to him along with her pretty face, and her beautiful soft lips that he wanted to kiss again and again. He felt like he was taking a ride on a wave that could very well crush him, but he couldn't turn back now. If this ended in a hard landing, he'd deal with it.
As they walked into the patio of the coffee house, he saw the owner and his friend, Steven Talmadge, bussing a table. At six foot five, Steven was a tall, skinny, thirty-three-year-old with brown hair and green eyes.
"I thought you were the boss," Reid said with a laugh.
"Which means I do everything," Steven replied.
"This is Jessica, her son Brandon, and their dog Wiley," he introduced. "Steven Talmadge. He used to make coffee and cake at the firehouse. Now he makes it for the whole town."
"Nice to meet you," Steven said. "I just turned on the heaters. If it's not warm enough out here, let me know."
"It feels great," Jessica said, as they sat down at a table.
"I'll bring some water for Wiley while you decide what you'd like," Steven added. "Menus are on the table, but I have to tell you that Dee made a couple of incredible pecan pies this morning, and we only have a few slices left."
"That sounds good to me," he replied. "Jessica?"
"I'm going to stick with coffee."
"I want pie," Brandon said.
"It's too close to dinner," she told him.
"But Mom—"
"I'll tell you what—you can have whipped cream in your hot chocolate, and if Reid wants to share a bite of his pie, I won't say no."
Brandon gave Reid a questioning look, and he laughed. "You've got it, buddy," he said.
"I'll also take the Italian roast," Jessica told Steven.
"Same for me," he added.
"You got it. Coming right up," Steven said, then headed into the café.
Jessica glanced around the patio. "This is lovely. I like the way the ivy wraps around the white fence and there's a partial view of the water."
"Steven had his eye on this place for a while. It was originally a deli, and he does serve salads and sandwiches if you want anything more substantial to eat."
"No, this will be fine," she said, turning her gaze back to him. "You said Steven used to be a firefighter?"
"Yes. He was injured on the job two years ago, and he wasn't able to come back to active duty, so he and his wife Dee decided to go after another dream they had to open a coffeehouse."
"How bad was his injury?"
"Bad enough that it took him about a year to rehabilitate."
She frowned at that piece of information. "Well, I'm glad he's all right now."
"Me, too."
"Do you think you'll always be a firefighter?" she asked curiously.
"I can't imagine doing anything else."
As he finished speaking, Steven returned with their drinks and a slice of pecan pie, which he put in the middle of the table, along with three forks. "Just in case you want to try it, too, Jessica," he said.
"Thanks. It does look amazing."
Another waiter brought out a bowl of water for Wiley, who happily lapped it up, then laid down next to Jessica's chair, obviously worn out from the beach.
"This is good," Brandon said with a happy, whipped-cream smile.
Reid laughed. "Looking good there, Brandon."
"Use your napkin, honey," Jessica said. Then she picked up her fork and took a bite of the pie. "Wow, excellent," she murmured.
"And you didn't want pie," he teased, taking a bite himself. "Dee did herself proud. This is delicious."
"Can I have some?" Brandon asked.
"One bite," Jessica told him. As she finished speaking, her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her bag to read a text.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
She set her phone down. "Yes, sorry. I've been waiting all day for a reply from my friend, Maggie, about whether we're on for tomorrow, and she was just getting back to me."
"Is Maggie another teacher?"
"No, she's a college friend. She works at a hotel in Napa. But we're having lunch together tomorrow at the Ritz Carlton."
"She's coming a long way for lunch."
"It's a pre-wedding lunch for my friend Isabella. She and her fiancé are getting married in about eight weeks—this is actually the second time they've postponed it for a variety of reasons, but it looks like the date is now certain, and we have to plan a shower, a bachelorette party, and make sure our bridesmaid's dresses fit. Lots to do and lots to talk about."
"Sounds like fun." She nodded, but there was a shadow in her eyes. "Although, you don't look too excited," he added.
"No, I'm excited. I love to see my friends."
"But…"
"But," she admitted, "the weddings have been a little crazy the last two years. This will be my fifth bridesmaid's dress, and I'm fairly sure number six is not too far behind."
"Really? That's a lot of weddings. Can't you say no? Just be a guest instead of a bridesmaid?"
"No, absolutely not. I'm the reason my friends made a pact that we would always have a wedding party, and we would always show up, no matter where we were and what we were doing."
"What do you mean? Why are you the reason?"
"Because I got married at a courthouse with no bridesmaids, and they were all furious at me. I met these women freshman year of college. We were in the same dorm, and we became really close friends. We were always there for each other, but when I hurriedly decided to marry Kevin, I just ran off and did it. A couple of them showed up at the courthouse because they found out about it, but they were disappointed I hadn't included them. Anyway, after that we made a pact that our weddings would be special no matter the circumstances, and that we'd all be there for each other."
"Then it looks like you're going to be in more weddings."
"I just wished they were a little more spaced out for the purposes of my budget, but everyone is falling in love at the same time. I'm really happy for them."
Despite her words, he heard something else in her tone. "But…" he repeated.
"Why do you keep saying that?"
"Because you aren't being completely honest."
"I am. I'm ecstatic for my friends."
"But you feel a little bit on the outside," he said, venturing a guess.
She sighed. "I guess I do. The weddings are all beautiful, but they remind me of…" She paused, glancing over at Brandon, then back at him. "Decisions I've made," she said vaguely.
He understood she didn't want to talk about her failed marriage in front of her son.
"I get it."
>
"The good thing is that Brandon gets to be a ring bearer again, and he loves that."
"I get to wear a tie," Brandon said with a smile. "And I carry the rings on a pillow."
"Sounds like fun," he said.
"Were you ever a ring bearer, Reid?" Brandon asked curiously.
"Nope. I've never been in a wedding. A couple of friends have gotten married, but I thankfully wasn't asked to be in the wedding party. Tuxedos aren't really my thing. I'm not big on formal wear."
"What about when you get married?" Jessica asked.
He laughed. "I have no idea. I've never thought about it."
"Never?"
"Not even once."
"Interesting," she mused.
He realized that never having thought about getting married probably wasn't going to put a checkmark on the positive side of the list Jessica had going in her head about him. But he didn't want to get into a discussion about that now. Neither, apparently, did she.
"We should get going," she said.
He nodded. "I'll go inside and settle up the bill."
"Can I pay for something?" she asked.
"Not a chance." He went into the café and settled up with Steven, then headed into the parking lot where Jessica, Brandon, and Wiley were waiting by the car.
As he drove them home, he wished he could think of some way to prolong the evening, but he'd probably already pushed his luck by inviting himself along on the beach trip. He was usually more than ready to call a halt to a first date, but with Jessica, he had the feeling that if he said good-bye to her, it might be for the last time.
A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of her house. Brandon was impatient to get into the house to use the bathroom, so Jessica handed him the keys. As Brandon and Wiley went inside, she lingered by the car door.
"I know you don't like the word," she said with a small smile, "but thanks for today—for everything: the doghouse, the beach, the pie."
"It was fun—all of it. Although, next time you and Brandon will have to get your own piece of pie."
"That's a fair point." She drew in a deep breath. "Good-bye, Reid."
"Let's not call it good-bye."
"We should. You're going to complicate my life, and I'm going to complicate yours."
"That's looking at the glass half-empty."
Forever Starts Tonight Page 5
