by Linda Seed
Joy shoved her fists onto her hips and glared at Amber. “Nice speech. Are you finished?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Fine. Just … don’t flirt with my landlord. Please?” She softened her voice into a gentle plea.
A smile spread on Amber’s face. “You’re into him. That’s why you don’t want me to flirt with him. You’re jealous. You want him for yourself.”
Joy was shocked by the accusation—mostly because it was true. Amber had picked up on it so quickly and unerringly that Joy felt exposed, as though all of her secrets, all of her inner thoughts, were on full display under a spotlight.
“I do not want him for myself.”
“Bullshit,” Amber said. But she didn’t seem angry—in fact, she seemed delighted. “Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s go back in.”
“Wait.” Joy stopped.
“What?”
“You’ve got that look.”
Amber was all innocence, eyebrows raised in question. “What look? Me?”
“That look that says you’re up to something. Like you’ve got some kind of whacky plan you’d see in a 1950s sitcom.”
“Not at all,” Amber said. “Come on. We’re being rude.”
Joy followed her back to the house feeling a sense of impending doom that had everything to do with her scrumptious landlord.
Nix knew there was some kind of undercurrent between Joy and Amber, but he didn’t know the source. Clearly, it had something to do with him, but what?
Joy didn’t seem to like him very much—maybe she was angry that Amber had invited him in and was being nice to him.
Yeah, it was probably that. The best thing to do was to excuse himself, offer his help with the gardening should Joy decide to try it, and leave.
Only, he didn’t really want to leave. He liked Amber, and he was flattered by how much she loved the tiny house. Her perk and enthusiasm were infectious. And he could admit that maybe some part of him—a part that he wasn’t particularly proud of—liked making Joy uncomfortable.
That part wanted to stay as long as he could manage, just to spite her.
When the women came back to the house, he assumed they’d had some kind of come-to-Jesus talk out there at the planting beds. Probably Joy telling Amber that Nix was leaving, so she’d better stop being hospitable.
That explained the defiant look in Amber’s eyes when she poured Nix a cup of tea, put it in front of him with a bowl of sugar and a carton of milk, and said, “So, Nix. Joy says she hasn’t gotten around the area that much since she’s been here. How about showing us around? If you’ve got time, that is.”
Nix’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Either Amber was doing this to piss off Joy, or she was flirting with him. Maybe both.
Either way, he couldn’t help wanting to see where it might go.
“I’ve got time.” He took a sip of his tea. “I’d love to play tour guide.”
Joy’s mouth fell open, then she snapped it closed. “I … excuse me for a minute. I left something upstairs.”
She climbed into the loft, probably to experience her rage in privacy.
Joy sat on the bed—she’d have paced, but there wasn’t room—and silently fumed at Amber.
They’d been friends long enough that Joy knew exactly what Amber was up to. She thought Joy had a thing for Nix, and she was planning to force the two of them together.
Damn it.
For one thing, Joy most certainly did not have a thing for Nix. Unless a thing meant irritation and annoyance. For another, if she did have a thing, it was her own business, and it should be up to her whether to pursue it. The hypothetical thing was Joy’s, not Amber’s. So why was Amber intent on interfering?
Now that Amber had done what she’d done, Joy had no way out of this three-person outing—unless she fell out of the loft and broke a leg. For a moment, she actually considered it.
“Joy, what are you doing up there?” Amber called to her. “Come on down. Nix has some great ideas for where we can go today.”
I’ve got an idea for where both of you can go.
“Just a minute,” she said instead, trying to make her voice sound chirpy. “I’ll be right down.”
Chapter 11
The first item on the agenda was lunch. Nix had arrived at the tiny house late in the morning, so it was nearly noon by the time they got into Joy’s car and headed out to see the local sights.
He could have taken them anywhere: Linn’s, with its famous olallieberry pie; Robin’s, with its charming atmosphere in the heart of downtown; or the Moonstone Beach Bar and Grill, with its spectacular view of the ocean.
But the idea was to impress them with what the local area had to offer, so he opted for something different.
“Just head north on Highway 1,” he told Joy as she maneuvered her car down Santa Rosa Creek Road toward town.
“And then what?” she asked.
“Then, just keep going.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re headed?” She sounded no less irritable than she had back at the house.
“Not yet. You’ll see.”
“Great.”
She didn’t sound like it was great. She sounded like she thought he was a pain in the ass.
They moved north through Cambria, past San Simeon, and beyond. To their right, grazing cattle dotted the rolling green hills. To the left, the vast blue ocean stretched out to the horizon, puffy white clouds hovering above.
“This is gorgeous,” Amber gushed. “Oh, my God. Look at those cows. It’s like they were placed there just to look good.”
“You can see Hearst Castle up on the hill. Have either of you ever been?” Nix asked.
Neither of them had.
“Well, we can put that on the list sometime,” he said.
“There’s a list?” Joy asked.
“There could be, if you really want to see the area.”
“I love that there’s a list. Can we get through it before I go home, do you think?” Amber asked.
“Probably not,” Joy said. “I’m sure Nix is busy.”
Joy didn’t want to be the person she was currently exhibiting to both Amber and Nix.
She was fully aware that she was being snippy and disagreeable. But how could she be otherwise? She’d planned to have a low-key weekend, just herself and her best friend, and now here she was spending the day with her annoying landlord, watching him and Amber get along famously.
Joy wasn’t sure what part of that bothered her most—his intrusion into her plans, or the fact that he seemed to like Amber better than he liked her.
She’d thought Amber was scheming to bring Nix and Joy together, but maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she wanted him for herself.
After all, she’d called him scrumptious.
Joy didn’t want Nix, of course. But that didn’t mean she wanted Amber to get involved with him.
They rose into the hills of Big Sur, and just when Joy thought Nix intended for them to drive forever, he directed her to turn left into a hotel parking lot.
Not just a hotel, she saw as she found a parking spot and maneuvered the SUV into it. This was some sort of complex, with a hotel, a restaurant, a gift shop, an outdoor snack bar, and a gas station.
“Is the restaurant good?” Amber asked.
“I prefer the snack bar, actually,” Nix said. “Good burgers.”
Joy didn’t eat burgers, and she was worried about the pound, and this place didn’t look like somewhere you could get a decent salad or even a grilled chicken breast.
“I’m game,” Amber said. “I like a good burger.”
“But first,” Nix said, “let me show you why it was worth the drive.” They got out of the car, and he led the women across the parking lot, past the snack bar, toward a lawn area, and over to a railing that overlooked the single most awe-inspiring view Joy had ever seen.
“Oh … God,” Amber said.
They were standing above a four hundred-foot drop to a rocky bl
ack-sand beach. Atop the bluff where they stood, towering pines and cypresses shaded them, and below, cliff faces studded with greenery plummeted to the crashing waves. The water near the shore was a deep blue fading into turquoise, then foaming into white peaks.
Joy had always taken pride in the Los Angeles–area beaches, as though she’d had anything to do with them other than visiting in a well-chosen bikini. But this was so much grander. So much … more.
In Southern California, the shoreline tended toward broad, flat stretches of sand reaching out to an ocean empty of anything to distinguish it. To the east were roads and traffic and buildings, and to the west was one endless expanse of water.
Here, the drama of nature reigned. The view was rugged and somehow desolate, awe-inspiring and humbling. Joy felt small and insignificant in comparison, but that was comforting, in its way. If she didn’t matter, then neither did her mistakes. Neither did her shortcomings.
“What do you think?” Nix asked from where he stood beside her.
“I’ll admit this was worth the drive.” Joy’s voice was thick with suppressed emotion.
“There you go.” He sounded pleased. “Now, who wants to get a burger?”
As Nix watched Joy eat, he thought that it must be hell being a woman.
She’d ordered a veggie burger with double the lettuce and tomato, and upon receiving it, she’d discarded the bun. Now she was eating the plain veggie patty and the pile of lettuce and tomato with a knife and fork.
“So, you’re a vegetarian, then?” Nix asked. “And, what, gluten-free?”
“No,” Joy said.
“No to which part?”
“Both.”
“She’s worried about the pound,” Amber added before taking a big bite of her own cheeseburger, which she’d ordered with a side of fries.
“The pound?” Nix asked.
“Amber …” Joy meant it as a plea.
Amber proceeded anyway. “When Joy eats real food—like the kind of things the rest of us eat—she gains a pound, then goes through hell trying to take it off. She and that same pound are in a battle to the death.”
Joy kept her eyes on her food instead of on him. Was she blushing? It seemed as though Amber had embarrassed her, and Nix felt bad about that. He hadn’t intended it.
“Well … for what it’s worth, you look great,” he said, trying to make amends.
“If I look great, it’s because I stay on top of the pound,” she said. “Now, can we talk about something else, please?”
The truth was, Joy would have died for one of those cheeseburgers.
They looked delicious—so juicy and thick, and the smell of the fries wafted to her and made her almost weak with hunger.
But the pound didn’t care what Joy wanted. It didn’t care if she was hungry. The pound taunted her, harassed her, stalked her like some vicious wild animal that would pounce at the slightest provocation.
So she told herself she liked the veggie patty and the lettuce and tomato. She told herself it was fine.
It wasn’t fine, though, and that was pissing her off. If they’d gone to the restaurant instead of the snack bar, at least she’d be eating a real salad right now.
But the view—that made it all worth it. After lunch, Joy snapped some photos and had Amber take some of her as she posed against the wooden railing, the breathtaking view at her back.
“Do you always do that?” Nix wanted to know as Amber handed Joy’s phone back to her after the photo shoot.
“Do what?”
“Take photos instead of living in the moment.”
“I’m living in the moment,” Joy protested.
“Yes, she always does that,” Amber said.
And that made Joy feel like she had to defend herself—again. “The photos are for my blog and for Instagram. It’s how I make my living. I’ve explained that.”
“Right. I get it.” He looked out over the view, his shoulder brushing hers as he stood beside her. “But sometimes you’ve got to just forget all that and …you know. Be.”
Amber continued to exclaim over the natural beauty as the three of them walked a path through the trees and down toward the end of the property. Joy hung back as Nix and Amber walked up ahead, chatting about the various points of interest.
Joy had started out angry and irritated about Amber’s flirtation with Nix, but now she just felt resigned.
Joy’s Instagram got dozens of comments every day telling her how beautiful she was, but Amber was the one who could effortlessly draw a man into her orbit. Why? What did she have that Joy didn’t have?
And why do I care? It’s not as though I’m interested in Nix.
The idea of herself and Nix as a couple was ludicrous. What would Joy do with a crunchy, Birkenstock-wearing, kale-eating, organic-farming man like him?
Even as she had the thought, she knew there were a lot of things she could do with him—most of them distinctly R-rated.
Stop it, she told herself. Just stop.
Actually, this could be good. If Amber and Nix got together, it would make Amber happy, and Joy wanted her friend to be happy. Also, it might make Nix more agreeable, and that would benefit Joy as she continued to live in his house.
Up ahead on the trail, Nix and Amber talked out of Joy’s earshot. While she didn’t know what they were saying, she got the gist of Amber’s end of it. Joy’s friend was laughing, tossing her hair, and doing that flirty thing Joy had seen her do so many times before. And he seemed to be responding to her. Why else would both of them have forgotten Joy was here?
Ah, well, none of that mattered. She focused on her blog, her Instagram, and her eventual book. This place was full of picturesque scenery that would serve her purposes perfectly. She pulled out her phone and got to work taking pictures.
On the way back to Cambria, Nix had Joy pull off into a parking lot overlooking the ocean.
“Okay, what now?” Joy’s question could have been laden with snark, but she kept her tone neutral, even curious. Their first destination had been much better than she’d anticipated, so maybe this one would be, too.
“Elephant seals,” he said.
“Elephant seals?” Amber piped in from the back seat.
“Yeah. This is their mating ground. There’s an observation area, and … well, you’ll see.”
Catching the aroma wafting up from the beach, Joy wasn’t optimistic. But when she got to the railing and looked over onto the beach, she couldn’t help but feel charmed.
Lying on the beach, so densely packed they might have been a living, breathing carpet, were hundreds—maybe thousands—of fat, lumbering, roaring elephant seals, their bodies long and thick and their bulbous, elongated noses making it obvious how they’d gotten their name.
Elephant seals dragged themselves into the surf and out again. Others fought, bellowing and nosing one another. Some lay in the sun, using their front flippers to throw wet sand onto their bodies.
“Oh my God,” Joy said in awe. “There are so many of them!”
“Before they built this observation area, people used to just park on the side of the highway and go down onto the beach to see them. Which was super dangerous, not only for the elephant seals but for the tourists. This is better. You get a good view without disturbing them,” Nix told her.
“How do they know to come here?” Amber asked.
“I’m not sure,” Nix said. “But they do.”
Joy was so absorbed watching the animals that it took her a while to notice that Nix and Amber were standing so close to one another that their shoulders pressed together.
She found herself looking at that spot—that point of connection between them—vicariously feeling the warmth of him, the tingle of electricity Amber was probably feeling.
She told herself she’d be happy for Amber if she and Nix ended up together. She told herself it was fine.
After that, Joy made an excuse for why she had to end the outing and get back to the tiny house. Work, she said. She t
ried to upload her blog posts on a regular schedule, and she had one due today.
“Oh.” Amber’s shoulders fell with disappointment.
“But if you two want to keep going, you can drop me off at the house. I don’t mind.” The last part was a lie, but she knew she shouldn’t mind, and she was trying to be gracious.
“That’s okay.” Nix stretched his long legs out in the passenger side of Joy’s SUV, as much as he could in a confined space. “I have something to get back to, anyway. I have to grout a bathroom floor.” He told them about Otter Bluff and his project to renovate the place for Evan. “I’m not on any kind of deadline, exactly, but I don’t want to drag it out too long, either.”
“But can we do this again?” Amber asked. “I’m leaving Sunday, but I don’t have to go until afternoon. Maybe you can show us more of the area?”
Say no, Joy urged him mentally. Please say no.
“Sure,” he said. “Give me a call. Joy has my number.”
The way he’d phrased it—Joy has my number—indicated he was asking Amber to call him, not Joy.
Well, fine.
Chapter 12
When she and Amber were back at the tiny house and Nix had left them, Joy was subdued as she got herself set up in front of her laptop on the tiny dining table.
“Are you okay?” Amber asked.
“Of course. I just need to get this blog post written and posted so I don’t throw off my schedule.”
“You seemed … annoyed. All day. Or most of it, anyway. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Amber.”
Amber narrowed her eyes at Joy. “Okay, the way you said that—yes, Amber—tells me you’re full of shit. Everything is not okay. So spill it, or our next twenty-four hours together is going to be damned awkward. It’s not like there’s anywhere we can go to get space from each other.”
