by Teri Wilson
“Like walking-distance close?” Ally lifted a jar of Easter egg-hued candy from the basket and set it on the table.
“I think so,” Jenna said.
The summer camp was situated right on the beach with its own wooden deck leading to the smooth white sand and clear blue water. Red and white bunting made it impossible to miss, as did the camp’s cheery sign, featuring a big yellow sun and swimmer and surfboard graphics.
Beyond the waterfront deck and a beach house that had been converted into the summer camp’s headquarters, the camp spread onto a vast back patio that boasted a competitive swimming pool and a tiki-style snack bar. Jenna almost wished she could sign up for day camp herself.
Ally grinned up at her, a bag of cookies in each hand. “This welcome basket is really cool.”
Maybe Jenna should put her in charge of a less sugar-centric chore.
“Why don’t you guys tackle this box while I take our beach toys out back?” She nudged a plastic bin toward Ally and Nick, then grabbed the crate containing their sand shovels and buckets.
Just as she closed the door behind her, she heard the kids’ whispered exchange.
“I’ll give you my cookies if you empty this box,” Nick said.
Ally’s response was instantaneous and enthusiastic. “Deal.”
So much for keeping Ally away from chocolate. It was okay, though. If Jenna’s biggest challenge this summer was taming her nine-year-old daughter’s sweet tooth, the next five weeks would be every bit as blissful as she hoped.
Scratch that.
Jenna wasn’t just hoping for a peaceful summer. If she wanted any chance at all of getting her book finished, she needed it. She needed it almost more than she wanted to admit.
Lucas McKinnon unzipped his wet suit, peeled it down to his waist and let the spray of the outdoor shower beat the salt and sand off his torso. If there was one thing he liked almost as much as a morning surf, it was a nice, hot shower afterward. The fact that the shower on the lower deck of the beach house offered him a clear, unobstructed view of the shore made it even sweeter.
The sea was unusually still today, as smooth and glassy as a mirror. Not so great for surfing, but undeniably pretty to look at it. Without the usual spray coming off the breakers, he could see the lighthouse looming in the distance. Just off the shore, a pair of dolphins crested the flat surface of the water, their silver forms glistening in the morning sunlight.
The calm before the storm.
Or so it seemed. In reality, the forecast was mild. Lucas checked the surf report every day like clockwork, and according to the TybeeWaves web site, there wouldn’t be a raindrop in sight. Still, he couldn’t remember the last time his little slice of the beach had been so serene. It was nearly as unsettling as it was beautiful.
Then just as he was about to flick the shower faucet to the off position, the stillness of the moment came to a colorful, bewildering close as a woman came bounding down the stairs.
“What the heck?” She gaped at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place.
For a minute, Lucas thought she might turn around and bolt back up the stairs.
“Whoa. Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect a shower.” Cheeks ablaze, she swallowed and averted her gaze. “Right in the middle of our place.”
“Sorry about that.” He gave the faucet a crank to the left and the shower’s stream came to a dripping halt. “You must be the new neighbor.”
The trickle of water slowed to a stop.
Plop.
Plop.
Plop.
Three slow drops, and she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
“Um, yeah. We just checked in,” she said to a nearby hibiscus bush, then nodded at the bin in her hands. “I just wanted to find somewhere to put this.”
Wow, this was one jumpy woman. Lucas wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a person who vibrated with such nervous energy. It rolled off of her in waves.
The forecast had been wrong. A storm had most definitely come to town. From the looks of things, a Category Four. Maybe even a Five.
“I don’t think it really matters where you put it.” He shrugged.
She glanced at him—cheeks flaring pink—and then quickly looked away again.
He grinned, trying to put her at ease. If she was going to react like this every time she saw someone in a bathing suit, she was in for an awfully long summer. “I’m Lucas, by the way. Lucas McKinnon.”
“Well, Lucas. I’m going to let you finish what you’re doing and I’m going to put this away.” She held up the bin again, like it was some sort of protective barrier. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you. Good luck.” Good luck unwinding enough to enjoy the beach.
He watched as she strode past him, spine ramrod straight, until a ball of white fur came scampering down the stairs and leapt toward her.
“Oh, wow.” She took a giant backward step.
Clearly not a dog person. Shocker.
“That’s Tank.” Lucas’s rescue dog was probably the friendliest, most harmless creature on the island.
“Hi, Tank,” she said as the pup pawed at her shins. Admittedly, Tank’s greeting was a little exuberant, but surely she didn’t think he’d actually harm her in any way. “Um, I should probably get inside before my kids think you ate me.”
Kids? No wonder she seemed so tense.
“Get outta here, boy.” Lucas pointed toward Tank’s favorite shady spot in the sand.
The woman tiptoed a little dance and lifted her bin in the air as if Tank had a burning desire to devour her beach toys. “Down, down.”
“Go,” Lucas said, and Tank reluctantly scampered elsewhere.
Lucas cleared his throat. “So are those your kids I saw out front?”
“Last I checked, yeah.” At last, she smiled at him.
It was a grin that knocked him unexpectedly off balance, as if he’d taken a tumble off his surfboard. “And your husband, is he…?”
She shook her head. “Ex-husband. He’s in Japan for work.”
“Oh.” Now that they were face-to-face, he noticed what lovely eyes she had. They were a luminous amber, like an early morning sunrise glinting off the ocean. “You look kinda young to have kids that old.”
“They’re really not that old.” She blinked. “But thank you? I think.”
“And you don’t have that caffeinated, dazed look that most parents have. You know the one where it’s like they’re just wrecked.” Most parents he knew walked around like zombies, which was just one of the reasons Lucas had zero desire to join their ranks. “You know that kind?”
He pulled his best zombie face.
She lifted a brow. “So no kids for you, then?”
“Me? Oh, no. No, no, no.” Just…no. “The furry kind are as close as I’m going to get to kids.”
“Great.” The expression on her face said otherwise. She was looking at him in much the same way she’d regarded Tank a few minutes ago. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”
She’d already said it was nice meeting him, but somehow it sounded even less believable the second time around.
Lucas exchanged a glance with Tank as she moved past him, heading toward the gate that led to the storage area under the stairs.
“We didn’t,” Lucas said to her back.
She turned around and propped the bin full of toys on her hip. Why did he get the feeling that her half of the duplex was currently filled with similar bins, all neatly packed and organized?
“I’m sorry?”
“We didn’t officially meet,” he said. “You never told me your name.”
“Oh, right.” She tilted her head, and her long, dark hair fell over her shoulder in glossy chestnut waves. Lucas wondered what she’d look like with beach hair, and then he wondered why he cared. “Jenna.”
/>
“Jenna,” he echoed. “Jenna what?”
“Turner.”
He shrugged. “Well, Jenna Turner. Now we’ve met.”
“Yes, we have.” She gave him a tight smile and reached for the latch on the gate. “Bye.”
The latch didn’t budge, and she fumbled furiously with it, storm clouds gathering in her eyes again.
He bit back a smile and mimed opening the latch. “You’ve got to push down on that.”
She did as he indicated, and the gate swung open.
“Thanks.” Her porcelain face bloomed with color again and she darted through the gate, slamming the cottage door shut behind her.
Lucas couldn’t help but laugh.
Category Five.
Most definitely.
Chapter Two
Jenna was a little rattled after her run-in with Lucas McKinnon.
Actually, she was a lot rattled.
But that was totally normal, right? It wasn’t every day she ran into a strange man in the shower, even if said shower was located on the porch. The fact that he kept popping into her head as she unpacked boxes and got the beach house organized didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Admittedly though, she was a tad curious about him. He’d acted so weird. Did he really think all parents were frazzled, dazed caffeine addicts?
She glanced at the coffee cup in her hand and set it down on the kitchen counter with a thunk. Without glancing in a mirror, she knew she probably looked a little bleary-eyed. She’d just moved her entire household into a new place for five weeks. Of course she was exhausted.
Too exhausted to write. And that was a problem.
But all she needed was a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow the kids would be busy at summer camp, and she’d have the entire day to work. Shower Man didn’t know what he was talking about. Just because she was a mom didn’t mean she was a walking disaster. Ally and Nick were the best part of her life.
She yawned her way through the dazzling sunset, which was so spectacular that they decided to eat dinner on the picnic table on their upstairs deck. Afterward, the kids were just about as wiped out as Jenna was.
“Big day tomorrow, so let’s try to sleep until the sun actually comes up.” She stepped up the first few rungs of the ladder on Nick’s bunk bed to give him a peck on the forehead.
“Tell that to Little Miss Chatty.” Nick aimed a pointed glance at Ally.
Her bunk bed was adjacent to Nick’s, and they’d both chosen to sleep up high. Ally pouted. “I happen to have a lot of important things to say.”
“Yes, you do,” Jenna said as her gaze snagged on the bright surfboard shaped cutouts that decorated the bed rails, yet another reminder of the surfer next door. “And we will talk about all of those things when the sun comes up. I love you monkeys.”
This was going to be the perfect summer. The house was idyllic, despite her wet neighbor and his non-child-friendly vibe. She couldn’t wait to get started on her book tomorrow. As soon as she got Ally and Nick off to camp, she’d take her laptop out to the deck and get an entire chapter knocked out.
Maybe even two.
But first, sleep.
She let out a long, luxurious sigh as she settled into the comfy king-sized bed in her new, temporary bedroom. But the second she closed her eyes, three loud barks traveled from one side of the duplex to the other.
Okay, so the walls were on the thin side. She’d just have to deal. It was just a little barking.
Except the barking was only the beginning, apparently.
“Tank. No barking,” Lucas said in a voice loud enough for Jenna to hear every inflection.
She sat up straight. Did he realize the scolding was even more annoying than the barking itself?
Tank let out a few more yips, and Lucas corrected him again. “No barking.”
This time, his voice was so crystal-clear that he might as well have been standing at the foot of her bed. Jenna plopped back down, and Lucas heaped effusive praise on the dog.
“Good boy!”
No, not good. Not good at all.
Was it too much to hope that she could finally get to sleep now that Tank had quieted down? Yes, apparently it was. Loud guitar music came streaming through the walls just as she closed her eyes again.
Jenna glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 11:13 p.m. “Seriously?”
Didn’t Lucas McKinnon know what time it was? No wonder he didn’t want kids. He was one.
Maybe she should go over there and ask him to turn the music down. But she was in her pajamas, and while they were a definite step up from a wet suit, she still didn’t want to march over there in them. Her next conversation with Lucas needed to take place when they were both wearing actual clothes: shirts, shoes, the whole works. She’d feel ridiculous going over there in her PJs, and she was far too exhausted to climb into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
Besides, Nick and Ally didn’t seem disturbed by the commotion. She was pretty sure she could hear Nick snoring across the hall.
Jenna buried her head under her pillow, but the rest of the night was more of the same. When her alarm went off the next morning, she was so tired she could barely drag herself out of bed to get the kids ready for camp. So much for getting a page or two written before making breakfast. At this rate, her word count might as well be a negative number.
The ride to summer camp was filled with animated chitchat. Nick and Ally had apparently gotten a great night’s sleep, despite the rock concert that had gone on upstairs until the wee hours of the morning. Jenna squinted against the bright morning sunshine as she maneuvered the car into the camp parking lot, kicking herself for not confronting Lucas in the middle of the night. She felt like a zombie.
Maybe it was a good thing that Kayla, the head camp counselor, wore a whistle around her neck. Its piercing chirp kept Jenna from drifting off when she was supposed to be watching Nick’s first freestyle lap.
How could she be dreaming of sleep when her son was so eager to dive right in? The camp’s pool had three more lanes than the indoor pool where he swam during the school year in Savannah. Instead of a humid, stuffy natatorium, he was going to get to compete in the salty sea air, with seagulls and pelicans gliding overhead. The water glittered bright turquoise, and Jenna wished for what felt like the millionth time that she hadn’t left her sunglasses in the car.
“There will be time trials at the beginning and end of the five weeks to track your progress,” Kayla said as the kids lined up at the pool’s edge. “Think of it as your personal best. Aside from that, summer camp is all about having fun!”
Jenna smiled, despite her exhaustion. Fun was precisely why she’d enrolled Nick and Ally in camp, and with her flippy blonde hair and bubbly persona, Kayla definitely seemed capable of making that happen.
Nick was already grinning ear-to-ear. He pulled his swim goggles over his head and glanced at Grayson, standing first in line at the lane beside him. “You want to race to the end?”
Grayson struck his best Michael Phelps pose. “To the end and back.”
Seated beside Jenna on the bleachers, Maureen shook her head. “Let me guess—they’re already competing?”
“It never fails with these two,” Jenna said.
“So what do you say, are we ready to get this party started?” Kayla’s whistle sounded, followed by the splash of dozens of kids cannonballing into the water.
Still, Jenna could barely keep her eyes open.
“It looks like Nick is really pushing himself.” Maureen’s eyebrows rose as she watched the boys make their way across the pool.
“He is. He just needs a little more self-confidence, that’s all.”
Maureen’s gaze shifted toward Jenna. “And it looks like you need a little more sleep.”
She sighed. “I blame my neighbor for that.”
�
��Why does that sound more scandalous than it is?”
As if. Never in a million years.
“He blasted music all night. Who does that?” Jenna pulled a face.
“Isn’t he a surfer?”
Like that explained anything. Or made her complete and total sleep deprivation okay. The only thing that could make it all better was a nap, plus maybe a Tylenol for her splitting headache.
“Yeah, a messy one who probably sleeps until ten every day,” Jenna said.
She couldn’t fathom the luxury of staying in bed so late. Not that she wanted to, exactly. She had things to do, pancakes to make, and a book to write. Still, it would have been nice if sleeping in was even an option. Jenna couldn’t remember the last time her bed hadn’t already been neatly made before six-thirty in the morning.
Maureen shrugged. “What do I always tell my students?”
“Middle school is like Middle-earth?” Maureen had always had a not-so-secret Hobbit obsession.
“That.” Maureen nodded. “And you should always follow the two-week rule.”
She shot Jenna a meaningful glance.
Jenna wasn’t altogether sure what she was talking about, but she had a feeling it had something to do with her music-loving neighbor. And since she didn’t want to think about Lucas McKinnon, much less talk about him, she turned her attention back to the pool where Nick and Grayson were swimming alongside one another, neck-and-neck.
“Looking good, Nick,” Jenna called. But she could still feel Maureen’s gaze on her, so she finally relented. “What’s the two-week rule?”
“You should always give it that long before you decide if you like someone or not. I mean, otherwise, it’s a snap judgment.”
She had a point, but Jenna wasn’t a kid in middle school. She was a grown-up, unlike a certain surfing enthusiast who lived right on the other side of her paper-thin walls.
Besides, Jenna didn’t judge people. That was wrong. “Yeah, I don’t do that.”
