by Marta Brown
Ollie reaches out and brushes his hand against mine. “It’s a deal,” he says before turning around and taking off.
I let out a small sigh as I watch his retreating back, and then return to the table… and to Brad.
“So, you want to go out and do something?” Brad asks an hour and a half later as the waiter clears away our fifth and final plate, the crème brûlée still on my lips. “We could go to Sloppy Joe’s and get some drinks… or just go back to my place. Lacy and Trev won’t be there, so we can finally be alone.”
I swallow hard. Alone? A spike of panic twists my stomach since I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to be alone with Brad, and all that it entails.
“Nope. Sorry, Romeo,” Megan says, coming up from behind me and draping her arm over my shoulder, instantly easing the knots in my stomach. “Katie here is a good girl who deserves more than a dirty floor futon on a second date. So, it’s a no go for tonight. And probably ever. So…”
Brad’s eyes narrow, but there’s a playful light in them at Megan’s challenge. “Aww, now sis, you know me better than that.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Megan says, shooting him a smirk. “And like I said, Katie deserves better.”
Chapter 26
Oliver
“You want the good news or the bad news?” Megan says, waltzing into my room with a cup of coffee and a smile the next morning, her chipper voice worse than the seagulls squawking outside the window after my sleepless night. But at least it’s not as bad as last night’s disastrous dinner. Nothing could top that at this point.
“How is there any good news?” I mumble, rolling over and burying my head in my pillow. “Mom’s engaged to a douche bag we both know is gonna break her heart—just like the rest of them—and apparently, Katie and Brad are officially dating now. So, there’s that.”
Flopping down on the end of my bed, Megan sighs. “If you’d just man up and tell her how you feel already—”
My moan cuts her off before she has a chance to tell me what I already know.
I’m an idiot. And I should have told Katie at the airport when I had the chance that I’m crazy about her. Always have been. Always will be. But I pussed out, and now she’s with him. “I thought you said you had good news… Otherwise, get out,” I grumble.
Megan snatches my pillow, sending my face crashing against my mattress before lobbing me in the back of the head with it. “Hey, that’s no way to talk to the person who managed to keep Katie away from Brad all night. Buying you, little brother, a few more hours to finally tell the girl you’re in crazy, stupid love with how you feel before you’ve lost your chance all together. And trust me; I’ve seen Brad at work. He’s very good when he puts his mind to it. So, I’d hurry the hell up before it’s too late.”
“Wait.” I scrunch my face at my sister as I sit up. “That’s the good news?”
“Oh.” Megan laughs, standing up. “No. The good news is Katie full-on dodged Brad’s kiss last night when we were leaving.”
“And the bad news…”
Megan bites her lip, like she’s still trying to decide if she should tell me the bad news or not, before she releases a long breath and lets it out. “Well… she may not have actually realized he was going in for a kiss. I’m not totally sure since she seems kinda clueless when it comes to this sorta stuff—but from what I could tell, it looked like a dodge.”
As the memory of Katie with her hands in my hair and our mouths crushed against one another on my couch three nights ago flashes in my mind, a jolt of adrenaline surges down my spine. She’s not as clueless as she seems.
And all hope might not be lost either. She dodged his kiss.
With a quick glance at the clock on my bedside table, I smile. It’s still early and maybe if I’m lucky, I won’t be too late.
“Now if you could work your magic and get Mom to stay away from Thomas, that would be even better news,” I say, hopping out of bed and grabbing my sweatshirt to protect me from the cool breeze rolling off the early morning ocean and blowing into my open bedroom window.
Megan lets out a long, frustrated sigh. “Trust me, if I could I would. But you know as well as I do how these things typically work out, so I’m not too worried I’m gonna have to start calling Thomas ‘Daddy’ anytime soon.”
“I hope you’re right.” I shrug. “But then again, none of the others actually bought a ring, so maybe this one is different.”
“Maybe,” Megan concedes. A mix of worry and sadness is in her eyes. “I’d just like to see Mom get the fairy tale, you know? I mean, it’s what every girl really wants. But an advantageous partnership?” Megan says in a deep, mocking tone. “That’s about as far from a storybook romance as anyone can get.”
She has a point. But at least this one asked. All the other guys who have come and gone out of Mom’s life since Dad took off never got quite that far along. “Yeah, that’s true,” I say, grabbing my kite from the floor at the foot of my bed and then slipping on my flip-flops. “But I decided I’m gonna try to give him a chance, since she does seem happy and all.”
Taking a long sip of her coffee, Megan seems to mull it over before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try to give him a chance too, but ugh. Brad and Trevor Garrison as brothers?”
“Stepbrothers,” I remind her, trying to shake off the thought. “And at least you’re not staring down the very real possibility of becoming family with the guy who’s currently making a move on the person you’re in love with—because that’s not gonna get complicated at all.”
Megan lets out a small laugh. “Okay, now that’s a fairy tale.”
I arch my brow. Come again?
“Okay, maybe not a fairy tale, fairy tale,” she waves her hand, “but definitely story worthy. I mean, come on, two brothers after the same girl? All you need to add in is a duel and you’ve got a story as old as all hell.”
Glancing down at the kite in my hand, with the contest only a day away, I press my lips into a tight line. It might not be a duel, but… “Think a kite-surfing contest counts?”
A slow smirk spreads across Megan’s face. “I’d say it’s a close second.”
…
In a rush, but not wanting to show up empty-handed, I ditch my kite and board on one of the patio tables outside the Griddle and hurry in, the wind blowing in behind me.
“It’s getting pretty windy out there,” I hear Gerald say as he pours coffee for the table in the back corner while I make my way behind the counter to grab two coffees to go and an apple fritter—Katie’s favorite. “They said that tropical storm offshore is picking up some real speed. Any chance it’s gonna effect the contest tomorrow?”
“I sure hope not,” my mom’s voice answers back, surprising me.
Popping a donut in my mouth, I stroll over to say hi but stop short when I see she’s not alone. Ugh. It’s too early to deal with Thomas and Trevor. But at least there’s no Brad.
Shit. There’s no Brad.
I steal a look at the clock on the wall, and my stomach knots. Am I too late? Are they already practicing? Guess there’s only one way to find out.
“Oh hey, you guys,” I say, plastering on the same fake smile I used last night when congratulating Mom and Thomas on their engagement.
“Honey,” Mom stands and gives me a hug, “Gerald said you weren’t coming in until later.”
“He wasn’t,” Gerald says, setting the coffee pot on the table behind him. “Did I get the time wrong for our little computer lesson or something?”
I gesture with my head towards the steaming cups of coffee I left on the front counter. “No, you’re right. I just stopped by to grab a quick breakfast.”
“Perfect timing then.” Mom sits, patting the empty seat next to her, the giant diamond on her finger catching the light and nearly blinding me. “Come sit and join us for breakfast. We’re doing some work, but we can always take a break.”
Glancing at the various papers and folders spread around the table with the Garrison
and Sons logo on the top left corner, I shake my head. I’d rather eat glass, but thanks. “Um… I actually have something I gotta go do, but uh… good luck with whatever you’re working on.”
A smile spreads across Thomas’s face as he looks at my mom. “Who needs luck when you’ve got the inside track?” he says before reaching across the table, lifting her hand to his lips, and kissing the brand-new accessory weighting down her left hand. “Right, honey?” He winks.
Like a teeny bopper mesmerized by her crush, and not a woman who has worked her ass off to get to where she is in her company, Mom starts to giggle. “Oh, you don’t need my help winning this contract, but it certainly can’t hurt, now can it?” Mom blushes before finally tearing her eyes away from Thomas and settling them back on me.
I furrow my brows. “Contract?”
“For the hotel to use Garrison and Sons Aquatic Rentals exclusively,” Mom says like it’s no big deal.
“Exclusively, huh? Sounds… advantageous.” I tense my jaw, starting to get a clearer picture on exactly how advantageous Mom and Thomas’s future partnership is. For him.
Pulling in a deep breath, I keep my thoughts to myself. For now.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to it then.” I lean down and give Mom a quick hug goodbye. “But I’ll be back later this afternoon to help with the computer stuff, okay?” I say to Big Pop as I snatch the coffees, now at the perfect temperature, from the counter. “I’ve got something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now, and it can’t wait one more second.”
Big Pop eyes the fritter-filled pastry bag in my hand before a smile crinkles his tan face. “It’s about damn time.”
You can say that again.
“Oh, and Oliver?” Gerald says quietly, giving me a swift pat on the back. “Last I heard before leaving this morning, she was headed to the beach. So, I’d try there if I was you.”
With a nod of my chin to the old man, I grab my kite, tuck the board under my arm, and head to the beach, rehearsing exactly what I’m going to say and praying Brad’s not there yet.
The walk feels like it takes forever—despite the nervous energy pulsing through my veins that gets me to Smather’s Beach quicker than the drag of the offshore wind pulling the bright yellow kite in the distance further out over the ocean.
I suck in one last deep breath and ready myself to finally tell my best friend I’m totally and completely crazy about her, when I round the corner of the sandy beach and freeze at the sight of Katie up on the board in her pink and purple bikini, a smile as wide as the horizon on her face.
She’s doing it. She’s kite surfing.
As the yellow kite pulls her across the water like a pro, pride bubbles up in my chest. I put my fingers to my mouth to let out a sharp whistle when she suddenly rips the safety release cord to drop the kite.
What the hell?
Scrunching my brows, I pick up my pace as the kite flitters to the crystal blue water to find out why she bailed out of the ride when she was doing so well. Is she hurt? Or just scared?
A knot twists in my stomach, knowing exactly how that feels. The fact I still haven’t gotten up on my board since the accident last year is self-evident, but with Katie’s encouragement, I at least got back in the water. Tomorrow, I’m going to have to do both.
The nervous energy racing through my body amps up to something different, something more, but I shove it back down as Katie splashes to shore, her smile brighter than the sunrise. And more beautiful, too.
“Whoo-hoo!” Brad shouts, picking her up and twirling her around in a circle until she’s giggling and dizzy. “That’s my girl. Told ya I was the best teacher around.”
No, that’s my girl, I want to growl. But the words get stuck in my throat when Brad sets her back on solid ground, keeps his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and kisses her like she deserves to be kissed.
Like a page straight out of one of her mushy romance novels.
Chapter 27
Katie
“Well, you ready for the big day?” Grandma asks, wading through a sea of dresses scatted around my room, a byproduct of last night’s last-minute date with Brad after our daylong kite-surfing session.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and wince at the bright morning sun blasting through the slated blinds, the sheer wattage taking away any worry that the tropical storm moving onshore might develop into a full-blown hurricane. It’s too damn sunny, and once again, I’m too damn hungover. Boy, does Brad know how to party.
And how to kiss.
I mean, my stomach didn’t flip and my knees didn’t exactly go weak like I imagined they would when getting kissed by someone like Brad Garrison, but I’m starting to figure out that the kisses I’ve been reading about all my life are just that. Stories. And well-edited ones, too.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, sitting up and feeling like the ocean is lodged between my ears. I manage a smile despite my throbbing head. “The weather looks good, and besides being a tad sore from yesterday, I think Ollie and I actually have a chance at winning this thing. Or… at least placing.” I bite my lip, not entirely confident since Oliver and I didn’t actually get to practice together, but I’m fairly optimistic.
Grandma snatches a few of the more provocative dresses I decided against from off the floor and starts to hang them in my closet, a crease of worry etching a deep line between her eyes. “I sure hope so.”
“Hey, don’t worry.” I hop out of bed and wrap my arms around her shoulders. “Besides Brad, Oliver is one of the best, if not, the best, guy competing today. And I think I’ve learned just enough to keep from messing us up completely. So, I’m sure you’ll at least get your entry fee back,” I say, giving Grandma a confident smile to help ease her concerns, because five hundred dollars is nothing to sneeze at.
Turning around, Grandma waves her hand dismissively in my direction before picking up another dress and shaking the wrinkles out. “Oh, I’m not worried about that, sweetie. I’m actually worried about Oliver.”
This time, I’m the one with the worry lines. “Why? What’s the matter with Oliver?” I ask as my heart picks up speed, a sense of dread washing over me. “I had a feeling something was wrong yesterday—I had an anchor sitting in the pit of my stomach all day—but I just ignored it. Is he sick? Oh no, he’s sick, isn’t he?”
I toss my hair into a ponytail as I search the floor for a pair of jean shorts and a clean tank top, ready to grab him some homemade soup down on the boardwalk and spend the rest of the day watching movies and taking care of him. “I knew he didn’t look right at the restaurant, but I figured it was the whole engagement that had him down and—”
Grandma lets out a soft laugh, which stops me in my tracks. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to scare you. Oliver’s fine. Or, maybe not fine, but he’s definitely not sick. Not in the traditional sense at least.”
Wait. What? Not in the traditional sense? How else can someone be sick? I eye my Grandma with a curious glance, wondering if she and Grandpa have been ‘meditating’ this morning. Or so they call it whenever they’re burning ‘incense’ behind closed doors.
“So… Oliver’s not sick then?”
Jingling past me with a knowing grin, she puts her hand on the side of my cheek and gives it a small, grandmotherly pat. “Lovesick, maybe, but nothing that can’t be undone, dear,” she says before disappearing out of my room and down the stairs.
Oliver lovesick? Over who? Me?
I let out a small chuckle at Grandma’s insinuation. Okay. Now I’m positive she’s been smoking something, because she couldn’t be more wrong. Oliver made that abundantly clear on his couch a few nights ago—despite my best effort. The memory of his denial suddenly makes me sick to my stomach—or maybe that’s just the hangover talking.
…
Two hours and one Key lime pie pancake breakfast special later, and I’m still not sure if this nagging knot in my stomach is from the drinks I shouldn’t have had last night—considering I’m about
to ride the open ocean on a tiny surfboard while attached to a giant kite—or if it’s from what Grandma said earlier about Ollie being lovesick. I’m starting to think both.
Fidgeting with the strings of the most modest bikini of Jessica’s I could find, that, in and of itself, a feat worthy of winning a prize, I wait at the front booth for Ollie to arrive. After a few minutes of waiting, I scan the beach and spy Oliver already setting up, and the knot tightens. He doesn’t look so much lovesick as just plain old sick. Crazy Grandma.
Even from here, I can tell his special shade of green isn’t from seafood, engagements, or too many drinks. No. Oliver is nervous.
“Hey, I thought we were meeting at the check-in booth,” I say, trudging through the sand to our starting gate, trying to keep my tone light. “So much for communication and teamwork.”
Without looking up, or laughing at my sad attempt at humor, Oliver shrugs. “Sorry.”
Kneeling down to help him untangle the lines to the kite, I touch his hand to get his full attention. “Hey,” I say again, but this time, it’s more of a whisper than anything. “You okay?”
Oliver stills, glances up, and then drags in a tight breath. His answer is clear. He’s not okay. At all.
My heart aches at the sight of my best friend looking so torn up. His eyes are stormier than the collecting grey clouds on the horizon and the choppy waves on the water. I reach up and put my hands on each side of his face. “Are you worried about the storm?” I ask, since the last time he rode, the day of his accident, the conditions were a lot like this.
Layers of something other than nerves crash over Oliver’s face, leaving me wondering if I’ve read him all wrong, when he peers out at the water and then back to me. “I… uh… yeah, I guess,” he answers, despite it sounding more like a question.
I take a deep breath, shoving down my own worries about the contest, regardless of the weather, so I can be there for Oliver. “Ollie, you’ve totally got this. You’re the best rider out here—rain or shine—and I know together we can do anything, so there’s no reason to be nervous.” I smile as I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Right?”
