Until Then
Page 1
OTHER BOOKS BY HEIDI McLAUGHLIN
CAPE HARBOR NOVELS
After All
THE BEAUMONT SERIES
Forever My Girl
My Everything
My Unexpected Forever
Finding My Forever
Finding My Way
12 Days of Forever
My Kind of Forever
Forever Our Boys
The Beaumont Boxed Set—#1
THE BEAUMONT SERIES: NEXT GENERATION
Holding Onto Forever
My Unexpected Love
Chasing My Forever
Peyton & Noah
Fighting For Our Forever
THE ARCHER BROTHERS
Here with Me
Choose Me
Save Me
LOST IN YOU SERIES
Lost in You
Lost in Us
THE BOYS OF SUMMER
Third Base
Home Run
Grand Slam
Hawk
THE REALITY DUET
Blind Reality
Twisted Reality
SOCIETY X
Dark Room
Viewing Room
Play Room
THE CLUTCH SERIES
Roman
THE DATING SERIES
A Date for Midnight
A Date with an Admirer
A Date for Good Luck
A Date for the Hunt
A Date for the Derby
A Date to Play Fore
STAND-ALONE NOVELS
Stripped Bare
Blow
Sexcation
HOLIDAY NOVELS
Santa’s Secret
Christmas With You
It’s a Wonderful Holiday
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2021 by Heidi McLaughlin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542027366
ISBN-10: 1542027365
Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson
To all those who have let that special someone slip away.
I hope you find them again.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
Graham Chamberlain pressed the power button on his desktop tower. The guts of the computer groaned, and the monitor flickered to life. The cream-colored device was Hewlett-Packard only by name and not the inner workings. Over the last year, Graham rebuilt, modified, and swapped out every part he could, building himself the ultimate computer. The holy grail of machines. One faster than his roommate’s. The competition between them had grown since they decided to live together. Who could build the better system? Who was going to be the one to break the mold? To date, Graham was winning by a hair. Of the five roommates, two were computer geeks—or nerds, as the women who often visited called them—and the others worked in banking and finance. Graham hadn’t cared about being called a geek, though. He had a love for artificial intelligence and couldn’t wait to watch the world evolve with technology. Bill Gates was going to change the world, right along with America Online. Once the display came to life and the icons from installed programs finished loading, Graham double-clicked on the AOL icon and waited. The familiar tones of his modem echoed throughout his room as he connected to the internet. The increasingly popular voice alerted him that he had mail, which brought a smile to his face. Before he could click on the yellow man who looked to be running, multiple messages from women he’d chatted with in various groups popped up. They wanted to know how he was doing, what his plans were for the night, and if he could help them with a computer problem. Since he became an avid user, his knowledge of computers had given him a bit of a reputation online. If someone posted a problem, many people from his buddy list often referred them to “Graham Cracker”—a nickname the love of his life had given him. But right now, it was his email that had his attention. The moment his screen showed his in-box, his smile grew wider. He clicked on the message from Rennie Wallace, his best friend, former hookup buddy, and the one woman he would drop everything for if she asked, which made him the worst possible boyfriend in the history of boyfriends.
Graham met Rennie his junior year of high school, when she visited her best friend, Brooklyn Hewett, in his hometown of Cape Harbor, Washington. From the second he saw her, he was smitten. In love. The week during spring break wasn’t enough time for them—at least not in his opinion—and when she returned to Seattle, he made his first long-distance phone call and asked her to his prom.
They couldn’t talk as much as either of them wanted due to school and the all-important evening and weekend jobs, but once a week, they took turns calling each other with long-distance phone cards. He remembered the first time he walked into Pinky’s, the local tourist shop that doubled as a pharmacy, and selected the paper card off the rack. He was embarrassed—for what, he couldn’t pinpoint. It was likely due to the look Old Man McGregor gave him as he rang up and activated the card. Graham felt as if he were doing something wrong. Of course, the look was sterner when he returned a month later and bought a box of condoms.
Rennie and Graham had been each other’s first in almost all relationship categories. First kiss. First make-out session under the stars. First person either of them had ever slept with. Graham hoped after they had done the deed, their relationship would be serious, but Rennie was a free spirit and hard to tame. Not that he wanted her to be any different. He just wanted her to be his. For the most part, she was. They confided in each other, became best friends, and often added the “benefits” part of their relationship whenever they weren’t dating someone else. When she started looking for schools in California, it made sense for him to do so as well. He wanted to be in the up-and-coming tech world, and Silicon Valley was the place to be. Rennie wanted to be a lawyer. Entertainment law. She wanted to be immersed in Hollywood. The glitz and glam of working in the industry. Only, her idea of the law changed once in school—multiple times—and, in fact, it became a running joke between the two of them. Graham expected a call, once each semester started, about how such and such professor had changed her views on whatever subject they taught. In the time since they had moved to the area, Rennie had gone from entertainment law to environmental, from corporate to criminal, and finally settled on family. Graham had joked she should be a law clerk and float from judge to judge—this way she would never be tied down.
Monica also hated Rennie, which made life difficult for Graham, and he resorted to communicating with his friend via email or at night when Monica wasn’t with him. To complicate matters, Rennie was busy, whereas Graham was a nine-to-fiver and home by six every night, making communication between them hit or miss.
The first email on his screen came from Rennie with a subject line of “Tonight.” Graham’s heart sank. She was supposed to come over for the backyard party he and his roommates were hosting. He had invited her since Monica was out of town visiting her parents in San Diego, and he missed Rennie. As he sat in his chair, he swiveled slightly back and forth and stared at the screen. He had a sinking suspicion she had to cancel. Still, he opened his email.
From: Rennie Ren
To: Graham Cracker
Subject: Tonight.
Graham Cracker,
I need a raincheck. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love, Ren
Graham read over the words a few times before he hit reply. He typed out “No problem” and quickly sent the message. She wouldn’t call, and he was okay with that. Truth be told, he was playing with fire by inviting her over. He contemplated answering the chat messages waiting for him but ultimately decided to log off. He hated how much of an effect Rennie had on him and had tried to break the hold many times over the years. Yet, all it took was for her to walk into the room, and his attention would be focused on her—something Monica was very keen to notice.
He went out into the living room of his shared house. Two of his roommates were watching C-SPAN for the up-to-the-minute market updates and taking notes. They had their own fake stock market setup in the house and often tried to entice Graham into investing, even though everyone knew there would never be a payout. He put his money into tech, often jumping on start-ups in the hope that one or two would pay off for him in the future. He would love to be retired by forty and living on a yacht somewhere in the middle of the Pacific.
The house the five of them lived in was a modest Tudor-style home. They each had their own bedroom, with one living in the basement; shared two bathrooms; and split the expenses evenly, with one of them collecting money from the others to pay the bills. Each week, two or three of them would be tasked with grocery shopping. Everyone picked up after themselves. And no one threw a party unless everyone agreed. For the most part, living there was easy.
Graham walked into the kitchen and saw a note taped to the phone. It was his turn to order pizza. His roommates were gracious enough to list what they wanted and how many he should order. He dialed the memorized number, told the girl with the cheerful voice on the other end what he needed, and said he would pay by card. After he hung up, he went to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and went outside, where another roommate sat by their firepit.
“Where’s Monica?”
“With her parents for the weekend,” Graham answered.
“Oh yeah? Is your hottie coming over?” His roommates often teased him for being attracted to Rennie even though he had a girlfriend. Most of them suspected Graham cheated on Monica when she went out of town, but he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He respected her even though his attraction to Rennie was undeniable.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. He worked hard to hide his disappointment, but deep down he knew it was for the best. If Rennie were there, life would be more complicated than it already was.
One by one, people started to arrive at the house. They brought coolers filled with beer and Jell-O shots. Their guy friends brought their current girlfriends, who wasted no time jumping in the pool. That feature alone was why everyone hung out at Graham’s—the pool. It was hot in Cali, and while they had the ocean, having a pool was second best.
It didn’t take long for the music to start and for the other roommates to join the growing party outside. People danced, flirted, swam, drank, and ate pizza, which lasted a whole five minutes. Graham sat in his chair because he felt sorry for himself for no other reason than the fact Rennie wasn’t coming. A friend tapped him on the shoulder and nodded toward a blonde woman, who stood with a group of friends.
“What do you think of her?”
“Pretty,” Graham said. He couldn’t see her all that well, but from a distance she looked pretty.
“I’ve been trying to get her to go out with me for a year,” his friend said. “She wants to be friends.”
The kiss of death, which Graham knew all too well. He laughed. “I feel ya, man.”
“What? Aren’t you and Monica going strong?”
He nodded. “Yeah, just want different things right now. I predict the fork in the road is getting closer and closer.”
His buddy shook his head. “One of my coworkers is getting married next weekend. He’s twenty-three. I don’t get it.”
“Me neither.”
Graham’s name was yelled from the back door of the house. He stood and walked toward his roommate. “Your parents are on the phone.” Graham stood there for a moment. It was late, and his parents would rarely call him past eight o’clock, even if they had been out with the Holmeses or Carly Woods. He went into the house and directly to his room. After he picked up his phone, he yelled, “Got it!” as loud as he could and hoped his roommate heard him and hung up the other line.
“Hello?”
“Son . . .” The sound of his father’s strangled voice was enough to send Graham into a panic.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
He heard his mother wailing in the background.
“Dad!” Graham yelled.
“It’s Austin.”
“What about him?” Graham grew frustrated between his father’s inability to form a sentence and his mother’s screaming in the background. “Jesus Christ, Dad. What the hell is going on?”
“There’s a storm, and Austin . . . he and your brother took the boat out. The boat capsized—it’s bad, Graham. A rogue wave came out of nowhere and took them under.” There was more silence from his dad, but he could hear his mother crying louder.
“Dad, is Grady . . .” Graham had trouble getting his question out.
“We can’t find Austin.” Never in his life had he heard panic in his father’s voice. It was undeniable now. Tears formed in Graham’s eyes as he searched around his room. He needed to get home, back to his family. He needed to be there for his brother. Grady and Austin had been best friends from the time they were in diapers. There were five close friends, including those two. Bowie Holmes, Jason Randolph, and Graham rounded out the group.
His mouth opened, but no words came out. His tiny fishing community had been rocked many times before with fishing accidents, but not since Skip Woods had a heart attack out at sea had he lost anyone he knew.
Lost. There was no way Austin was lost. Every single guy he grew up with could swim, and if there was a riptide, the people of Cape Harbor would form a human chain to bring him in. His father was wrong.
“Dad, I’m sure . . .” But even as the words left his mouth, he didn’t believe them.
The phone was fumbled around, and Graham strained to pick up on the conversation between his parents. There was a third voice, but it was unfamiliar. In the background, he heard sirens and mo
re people talking.
“Dad, where are you? Where’s Grady?” Usually Graham could sense when something was amiss with Grady or even when his brother was elated. It was the weird twin thing between them, which often confused outsiders.
“He’s in the hospital. He’s being checked for hypothermia, a concussion, and is very agitated. But it’s Austin; we can’t find him. And we can’t find Bowie.” Graham knew if Austin was out on the boat, Bowie was likely with him. He also knew his family needed him. His brother would definitely need him if Austin wasn’t found. “I need to go back down to the docks. We’re going back out to search.”
“It’s not safe if it’s raining, Dad. You should stay with Grady,” Graham pointed out, knowing full well his plea would fall on deaf ears.
“I won’t leave Austin out there alone. I can’t do that to Carly. Not to Skip. Your mom will stay with Grady, son. Your brother . . . he’s going to be okay, but I have to help find Skip’s boy.” George Chamberlain was a family man and had taken Austin under his wing after Austin’s father passed away. Just as Gary Holmes had.
“I’ll book a flight right now.” His father hung up, with no other information. Graham was angry and confused. He went to his computer and booted it up. Over the past year, websites had become more popular, and he knew Southwest Airlines had a fairly active site. Plus, their flights were cheap, and there were plenty of them. He could get one by the morning and be home in five hours. While his internet loaded, he went around his bedroom, packing clothes. He dug into his closet and pulled out his wet suit—he would need it if he planned to dive, which he did, unless Austin surfaced beforehand.
With AOL open, he typed in the airline’s URL and hit enter. The internet was slow this time of night because everyone was on. He clicked, typed, and pressed enter more times than he could count as he searched for a flight. Nothing for hours, and the earliest was tomorrow night. He could drive home by then. He logged off and remembered his father said they couldn’t find Bowie. He couldn’t fathom any of this. None of it made sense. Why would Austin take the trawler out in a storm? Why would Grady go with him? And where was Bowie?
He picked up the phone and dialed Bowie’s cell phone. He was one of the few people Graham knew who had one. The phone rang, and by the fourth tone, Graham’s frustration started turning into fear.