Holiday by the Sea

by Traci Hall

  Teagan put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?” She tapped her foot. “Did you say running away?”

  “Poor choice of words.” He held up his palm. “What I meant was that you don’t have to travel Europe to discover yourself. You don’t have to avoid your home to be yourself.”

  “I want to travel.”

  “You should!” He hesitated.

  “What? Spit it out. I can see you have something on your mind.”

  “So, you go to Europe.”

  “All over the world. Don’t be so limiting.”

  “You travel. And then what?”

  “I don’t understand.” She crossed her arms in a defensive pose. “Traveling is the point.”

  “And you think that your vlog viewers are going to support you forever?”

  Her red brows drew together in a sharp line that made him take a cautious step backward.

  “Are you suggesting that the donations from my viewers are charity? I told you, this is my business. I get paid advertising from YouTube.”

  He bit his tongue.

  She had her pointer finger out like a banishing wand. “They choose to listen, they choose to donate. In fact, last month I was approached by an agent for possible syndication.”

  What did that mean? Something good, but he’d have to look into it. “That’s great, for now. But what happens later? When you need a 401 K and retirement? Insurance? Or are you still on your parent’s plan?”

  Her face drained, leaving a death mask. High cheekbones, wide eyes burning with fury. “You can go now.”

  “Teagan,” he said, wishing he’d worded things differently. “I’m just saying that right now this all sounds like a great adventure. But someday you’ll have to get a real job.”

  “Out. Now.”

  That finger moved him from the couch to the front door by force of will.

  He couldn’t have sounded more like his mother if he’d tried.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Teagan couldn’t recall ever being so angry. It seemed she was her mother’s daughter after all, because she dragged out the cleaning supplies. The only difference was that her mom listened to jazz, while Teagan picked nineties metal.

  She pulled the ruined mattress outside, getting the brand and style so that she could order her parents a new one before they got back.

  Scrubbing walls, dusting, vacuuming, Teagan eradicated every sign that someone had broken into their home.

  How dare Riley suggest that she needed a real job?

  How dare he judge her?

  It stung her pride that he’d been right about the insurance, but she had another year before she had to get her own. Jerk.

  He had no right to judge. Just because he gave up his dream for security didn’t mean that was the only way to live.

  She tackled her room, tossing stuffed animals, except for one favorite, Teddy. Missing an eye and thread-bare, he was a part of her childhood she wanted to keep. As for the rest? Why hang on to it?

  Clothes, old make-up, shoes. If she didn’t want it but it was serviceable, it went into the donation pile.

  How could he even think that she’d be cold-hearted and uncaring? Yeah, she was young when she’d started the Observationalist, but so what?

  Her words obviously resonated with a large population or she wouldn’t be able to afford groceries. She paid her own rent! Fuming, she went into the bathroom with the cracked sink. The whole place could use sprucing, but all she had was elbow grease. Time. Paint was cheap.

  The phone rang but she ignored it. Her cell rang next, which meant it was her mom trying to reach her.

  She still ignored it.

  How dare he? He claimed to like her, really like her, but then he treated her like that?

  Argh! She swiped away angry tears and made an appointment for the locksmith to come out and fix the slider while redoing the other locks. Made a big bowl of pasta, and plugged in her laptop. It wasn’t like she had a television to watch, anyway.

  She logged into her YouTube channel but instead of vlogging, Teagan went back to square one. God, had she really been so young? Shorter hair, just out of high school. So eager.

  “Hi! I’m Teagan Becker...”

  Hours later, she got up from the kitchen table emotionally drained. Nobody had been safe from her sharp tongue, most especially herself. Her parents took the brunt of it, but then there were boyfriends, professors, and she was lucky the ad company hadn’t sued her for slander after she’d been fired.

  Fired for insubordination, which boiled down to her big mouth.

  Just maybe she owed Riley an apology, though to be fair she’d never used his name and she’d never been cruel. Still, he’d been part of her show without realizing it.

  She sent him a text with an emoticon of a smiley face with a tear. Flowers. Then, sorry.

  He texted back. Me too.

  Her phone rang. “Hey,” she answered.

  “I was getting the nerve to call you to apologize.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I kinda do. I’ve been a jerk to you all day. That emotional thing, I suppose. That I outgrew? But obviously didn’t.”

  Teagan gave a soft laugh. “I watched the videos. I can’t believe I thought I looked good with short hair.”

  “Really?” He paused. “Not what I expected you to say.”

  “What do you want? A play by play director’s cut of the flaws? You think you know stuff at nineteen.”

  “I thought I knew stuff today.”

  She sat at the table, leaning her elbow on the top. “Cute.”

  “So, did you do anything else besides watch reruns of your backlist?”

  “Cleaned. You could eat off the floors.”

  “Uh, I’ll pass. Can I bring you dinner? I miss you.”

  “I ate already. It’s nine.” Tired all day, the thought of seeing him gave her a jolt of energy. “I’m beat.”

  “All right,” he said.

  Disappointed silence. “I have to pick up a mattress tomorrow. I could sure use your muscle.”

  He made a funny noise. “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s true!” She liked his lean physique.

  “Can we take the van?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll be there at nine,” he said.

  “So early?” She checked out the hours of the mattress place online. “They don’t even open until ten.”

  “Let’s go to breakfast.”

  “All we do is eat.”

  “Not true. We bake, we eat. I loved the other thing’s we did too. I had a great holiday. I hate for it to be over.”

  “Technically, it isn’t until January 6th.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Epiphany. Three Kings Day.”

  “Oh. Do we need to exchange gifts?”

  Teagan smacked the table with her palm. “Definitely. You should buy me a present.”

  “What do you want?”

  Really? “I was just kidding. No presents.”

  “Well, what are you doing right now?”

  “Getting ready to shower off the cleaning grunge and then go to my tiny twin bed for some sleep.” She decided not to invite him over, just to re-establish some boundaries. “I have some deliveries tomorrow, too, since I was closed yesterday and today.”

  “Did you vlog yet?”

  “No.” She stood up and walked to the slider, checking to make sure the broomstick was in place.

  “Are you going to?”

  “Of course!” She couldn’t change who she was. Didn’t want to, actually.

  “Are you going to talk about us?”

  “I am. You should tune in later. You know, if you subscribe to my channel, it sends you a notification when I have a new post.”

  “I’m supposed to catch up on our lives by watching your video?”

  She grinned. “Don’t you love technology?”

  They exchanged good-byes and then she went in search of paper and pen. For the first time si
nce she started vlogging, she was going to need a script.

  *****

  Riley waited for an hour before the ding came through.

  Stupid, how his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again.

  There she was, smiling in front of the camera. She’d brushed her hair out so it was straight down her shoulders. Parted at the side, no bangs. Subtle make-up, friendly. Jeans, short-sleeved sweater. She was magnetic. Had an agent really contacted her?

  Groaning, he cracked open a beer and prepared to get lambasted. Instead, she smiled. “Hi, friends. It’s Teagan Becker. Thank you for all of the holiday wishes. I’ll get to the questions at the end of the show. So.” She sat on the plaid couch and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “It was brought to my attention that being a part of my life can be dangerous. You become fuel for the Observationalist fire. When I began this my first year in college, I was really searching for myself.”

  She scooted back against the cushions, crossing her legs. “A pretty normal teenage thing to do. As I got older, you all kept watching, so I kept talking. A no-holds-barred introduction into my life, as I saw it. I got to be the center of my universe. Man, that sounds self-serving, doesn’t it?” She shook her head and shrugged a shoulder. “I can tell you right now that if I decide to continue with the show…”

  Riley spewed beer over his kitchen floor. “What? What is she saying?”

  “That I will be open and honest, and sarcastic as hell because it’s who I am. I want it known that I love my parents—they’re stuck with me. But maybe my friends don’t need to be included in what I do, without their permission. If I’ve offended you in any way, I’m sorry. Know that I don’t do this to hurt other people. I do it because I found a way to talk, to be heard, and I love that you all listen. Thank you.”

  She got up and walked toward the camera as Riley grabbed paper towels and dabbed at his shirt where he dribbled. He’d never meant for her to quit.

  “You’ve all been so supportive of my travel plans. I can’t wait to see new things and to share those things with you.”

  Riley, mesmerized by her voice, sat back down. Holy shit. Now he felt like an even worse asshole than before. He really liked Teagan a lot—why was he hurting her? He’d just been trying to help.

  “So. Big epiphany for me. I am not and can’t be the daughter my parents wanted. This isn’t a tirade or a rant, because as it was pointed out to me, I grew up in a loving home. The three Beckers. My role in the family was very clear, to take up the passion for baking my parents had and carry on with Becker Bakery.” She paced back and forth a few times before facing the camera. “I enjoyed helping out over the holiday, but this isn’t my passion. I am the Becker that occasionally bakes. I’ve embraced it. Now to make my parents understand. It isn’t personal to them, I am not cutting myself from the Becker trio, just doing something different.”

  He buried his face in his hands. Shit.

  “But before I head off on my own journey, I’d like to give their shop a make-over. That way when they come back from Germany, they can decide for themselves if they want to keep the business going, or sell and retire.” She spread her arms out to the side. “It will be their choice, not mine. It occurs to me,” she said with a wink, “that I can be as bossy as my mother.”

  Riley got up, searching for his phone. This was wrong, wrong. He hadn’t wanted her to change. Then he sat back down.

  Right?

  “My folks will be back in less than two weeks. Anybody know where I can get a commercial baking oven at a very deep discount?”

  He watched her, his mind buzzing too loudly to hear her as she signed off with her signature kiss to the camera.

  Instead of calling her and stumbling over his own tongue, more than likely saying the wrong thing, he put on his running shoes and hit the road.

  Riley headed toward the beach, the smell of the ocean urging him to go faster. Not many people were on the surf at this hour, so Riley took off his shoes, tied the laces and slung them over his shoulders, digging his toes into the sand as he ran.

  He prided himself on being practical. A maker of amazing lists, a mind that tended to organize things and put them in order.

  He’d made the same mistake Teagan’s parents had. Here’s the pretty box we all fit in, get inside. She used the box as a stage, and so what? She was unique, caring while finding her own way to be heard.

  The warm water lapped at his toes, wet sand kicked up behind him as he ran faster. No outrunning his thoughts, though. What right did he have to judge her harshly? He owed her more than an apology.

  The problem was that his heart wanted to be involved. Right now, it might sting a little to walk away and keep things between them busted. He would heal. Move on, maybe ask the waitress at First Watch on a date. She was cute, in a boring way. Bland. Good teeth. Too thin.

  Now that he knew what was out there, namely and only Teagan, how could he go back to boring?

  Safe. Teagan wasn’t even close to safe. She challenged him on every level. He knew he’d get hurt.

  He knew that if he saw her tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day until she left, he would end up with a broken heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Teagan jumped out of bed when the alarm went off at seven, surprised she’d slept at all. Why hadn’t Riley called her, or hell, even sent her a text?

  Not sure if he would show up as agreed, Teagan prepared for going through the day solo. She’d poured her heart out for all to see and this was his reaction?

  Of course it was, she told herself, shuffling her bare feet into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. French vanilla, which smelled better than it tasted. It did the job, however, and kicked her ass into gear.

  She doctored her mug with added cream and headed to the bakery office. Flipping on the lights, Teagan winced at the cracked paint and tired old walls. God, she had her work cut out for her. It was the right thing to do, though, so that she could head out to England without carrying an entire suitcase full of guilt.

  Powering on the computer, she narrowed her eyes with suspicion as she saw the freaking orders for cookies. This was supposed to be the slow time! Her heart skipped and she set her mug down, clicking through the requested deliveries. All over the United States, and a few out of the country.

  Teagan searched for some paper and found the back of an envelope to jot down names and addresses along with the orders. She checked last year’s orders at this time. Two. She had ten already and it wasn’t even eight yet.

  She lifted up a few catalogues, looking for her mother’s cookbook. Sugar cookies were simple enough, but they needed to be refrigerated. On a piece of computer paper, she scrawled out the priority for dough, then checked to see that they had the ingredients. Good news? The money she’d make over the holiday, less what her parents made last year, would be enough to buy a stove.

  Maybe.

  She sat back at the computer and did a quick search. Anywhere from 2,000 to 23,000. Holy smokes.

  Cranking the music, a nice mix of pop, she stuck her hair in a net and got to work.

  The next thing she knew, there was a pounding at the bakery shop door. Startled, she looked up.

  Riley?

  She’d talked herself into not thinking about him, so it was a surprise, a nice surprise, to see his curly hair and smiling face. The bag of food he held up as a peace offering was great too.

  Laughing, she scooted out of the kitchen and opened the door. “Hey.”

  “Morning.” He brushed by and set the bag on the display counter. “I thought we had a date to pick up a mattress?”

  “I wasn’t sure,” she dropped off the rest of the sentence. After last night.

  “You look busy.” He picked a hunk of dough from her apron. “I thought the holiday was over?”

  “Me too.” She sighed. “But no. I have ten deliveries for today so far. I’m going to kill my parents when they come back. Lies, lies, lies.”

  “Well, they had
to make it sound easy so you’d say yes,” Riley explained. “They knew what they were up against. I hear Germans can be stubborn.”

  “Possibly. They have no idea that without you, this would have been a terrible season. Complaints and dropped balls everywhere.”

  “You would’ve found a way.”

  “I wouldn’t have slept—passed out cold during Christmas. The burglars could’ve stolen the sheets I was sleeping on without me noticing.”

  Riley chuckled. “That’s not funny.”

  “The lock guy is coming tomorrow.”

  “On a Saturday?”

  “Yeah. He understood where I was coming from, you know, being alone in the house.”

  “You could stay with me.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He ran his finger along her forearm, raising her inner temperature. “We got along.”

  “We got along too well,” Teagan amended with a pang to her lower regions. Damn. He’d been so good, made her feel like a goddess. But she’d missed him too much last night to think that leaving would be any easier if they spent every second before she left together.

  “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

  “You wouldn’t.” She smiled to take the sting from her words.

  “About last night...”

  “Before we start on that, is there food in that bag for me, too?”

  “Yeah. I stopped at the deli and got some bacon and egg croissants.”

  “Do you mind eating in here? I have so much work to do that I can’t really stop too long. Once again, you’re a life-saver.” She bit into the soft bread and cheese. “Is there anything better than bacon? I just don’t think so.”

  “I could watch you eat,” he said, studying her face. “Forever. You make it look sexy.”

  “Stop it! I don’t have time for—what was that word? Shenanigans? You have to behave Mr. McSorley, or I will be forced to send you home. What do you do in your classroom? Expel the troublemakers? Give them a demerit?”

  He looked away, taking his sandwich to the chairs and coffee table in the front of the shop. “That’s a tough line in the sand to draw. Okay.” He lifted his lid off the coffee and blew. “Although I don’t know how you’re going to carry a brand new mattress to the van. You need me. ”