Read, Write, Love at Seaside

by Addison Cole

  He drove down the main drag toward Seaside and glanced at the bouquet of wildflowers on the passenger seat. It had been years since he’d bought flowers for a woman. He hadn’t been planning on buying them, but when he saw the bouquet of colorful wildflowers, their haphazardness reminded him of Leanna. This was the first date he’d looked forward to going on in years.

  He parked in her driveway and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. She rattled him. She sent his heart off kilter with everything she did, and while she wasn’t a train wreck, as she thought she was, she was definitely not the most organized person, and she didn’t seem to live with any method to her days. Leanna breathed new life into everything around her. Including Kurt. When he was with her, things didn’t just look different; they were different. Days seemed brighter. Scents were more aromatic. Even the feel of her hand on his skin brought a heightened sensation. It was as if he’d been living life through a cloud, and Leanna breezed in, bringing clarity and lighter, happier feelings. She even seemed to have improved his creativity and writing. She lit up the darkest corners of his world. And although Kurt was a creature of habit and didn’t like surprises, or change, very much, he was drawn to Leanna like pen to paper.

  He climbed from the car with his purchases in hand and was greeted by Pepper’s bark through the window.

  “Hi, Kurt.”

  He turned and waved to Bella and two other women sitting on the deck of one of the cottages before heading up to Leanna’s door. Pepper clawed at the screen, and Kurt crouched so he was eye to eye with the white fluffy pooch.

  “Sit.”

  Pepper did.

  “Good boy.”

  “Did I hear you call Pepper a good boy?” Leanna came out of the bedroom wearing a white gauzy dress, cut midthigh in the front and below her knees in the back and belted at the waist with what looked like a brown scarf of some sort. Her hair cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders. She pulled open the screen door with a sweet smile.

  “Wow, Leanna. You look incredible.”

  That earned him a smile and a tippy-toed kiss. Her sweet, summer scent enveloped him.

  “You smell amazing, too. What is that?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. Whatever lotion I grabbed from my dresser, but thank you. Now I wish I knew which one it was.”

  He was slowly coming to understand and appreciate that this was how she lived her life, easy, free from worry, natural, and that those moments he’d witnessed—forgetting her bike, leaving her clothing in his car and at his cottage, and even the disarray of her kitchen—hadn’t been moments at all, but peeks into the remarkable woman that she was.

  And he liked it. A lot.

  “These are for you.” He handed her the bouquet.

  “Wildflowers? How did you know they’re my favorite?” She wrapped her arm around his hip and snuggled against him in a one-handed hug. “Thank you.”

  While Leanna put the flowers in a vase, Kurt opened the bag he’d been carrying and crouched beside Pepper, who was wagging his tail and panting for all he was worth.

  “Yes, I brought you something, too.” He held a doggy treat in his hand, and Pepper climbed right up onto his white pants and licked his cheek. Kurt laughed as he pulled back from him. “Sit,” he said a little less sternly than he had before.

  Pepper obeyed.

  “Good boy.” He handed Pepper a treat, and Pepper carried it beneath the table and scarfed it down.

  “I can’t believe you brought Pepper a treat.” Leanna crouched to watch Pepper eating.

  “I figured he deserved it. He might be lonely if I steal you for the evening.”

  She slid her arms around his waist again, as if she’d done it a million times before, and she gazed up at him.

  “Thank you for the leash. I can’t believe you bought that and the baking soda even though you thought I was going out with Carey.”

  “I didn’t want to come between you two, but the thought of you trying to walk Pepper with a rope long enough to trip a thousand kids worried me.”

  “It was very thoughtful of you.” She moved away to slip her feet into a pair of flat, strappy sandals. “Where are we going?”

  “That depends on what you feel like doing. There’s a movie playing on the back of Town Hall, and I brought a bottle of wine. We could grab a quick dinner and head there, or have dinner on the beach, or go to a restaurant in town. Or maybe head up to Provincetown and walk around, grab a bite to eat?”

  “You gave me so many options. It’s hard to decide.”

  Pepper whined up at them.

  “Oh, hush. You’ll be fine.” Leanna reached down to pet Pepper, and he pawed at Kurt’s pants leg. “Are you starved?” she asked Kurt.

  “Never.”

  “Really? Sometimes I’m so hungry I can’t see straight.” She tucked her hair behind her ear as she rose to her feet.

  Why doesn’t that surprise me?

  “I love the beach at night, and I haven’t gone much this summer. Why don’t we grab something quick to eat at PJ’s or Mac’s and take it to the beach with the wine? If we get bored, we can go see the movie.”

  Bored? Between his writing endeavors and his love of exercise, Kurt had never experienced being bored a day in his life.

  She took his hand and they went outside.

  Pepper whined and barked behind the screen door.

  “Let me just go ask Bella to take care of Pepper. She won’t mind, and I’ll only be a minute.”

  Kurt looked down at Pepper’s big, sad eyes.

  “If we’re not going to a restaurant, we can bring him with us. Unless you don’t want to.”

  She stopped cold. “You…want to take him?”

  Kurt looked at Pepper again. “He’s kind of like your kid, isn’t he? Doesn’t he go everywhere with you?”

  “Pretty much, but I never date, so he doesn’t really know dating etiquette.”

  “As opposed to…flea market etiquette?” He reached for her hand.

  She stared at their linked fingers. “Point taken, but won’t he be a total mood killer?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. “I’m not sure there’s any such thing when I’m around you.”

  She stepped in close and ran her finger down the center of his chest. “Well, Mr. Remington, you know how to cut right to a girl’s heart. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  He eyed Pepper again. “You’re a package deal, and I have a feeling that I might as well get used to it.” He leaned down and kissed her long and slow, and when their lips finally parted, he wasn’t so sure he even wanted to leave the cottage.

  Chapter Ten

  THEY DROVE TO Duck Harbor and left their shoes, a blanket, and a bag with the wine and sandwiches that they’d brought on the side of the dune and walked hand in hand by the water’s edge. Pepper trotted happily beside them, tethered by his new leash. The wet sand was cold between Leanna’s toes, and a light breeze came in with the crashing waves. It had been a long time since she’d walked hand in hand with a man. Kurt’s hands were big and strong, and as strange as it seemed, the word safe came to mind when she thought about their interlocked fingers.

  “Tell me about your life, Leanna. You said you’re here for the summer, but where do you live when you’re not at the Cape?”

  She’d been trying to figure out how to explain her crazy life all day, and now, walking beside Kurt, she threw out the preconceived ideas she’d come up with and decided to go with complete honesty. What did she have to lose besides maybe the most thoughtful guy on earth?

  “I lived in Pullman, Washington, for a few months, where I was helping a friend with her floral business. I gave up my apartment when I came here to start my business. I’m kind of a wanderer, I guess. Growing up as a military brat sort of set me up to move around a lot.”

  “Your family is military? My dad’s retired army, four-star-general through and through.”

  “Yeah? Did you move around a lot?”

&
nbsp; Kurt shook his head. “No. I guess we were lucky in that regard. I like knowing I’m coming home to the same comfortable and familiar house. But my dad is the epitome of a military father. Strict and maybe a little cold at times. How about you?”

  “Cold? Really? My father’s one of the warmest men I know. He’s not at all a typical military guy, I don’t think. In fact, I’m sure of it. He’s very forgiving of his children. Probably too much so.” She noticed tension lines around Kurt’s mouth that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Do you and your dad get along?”

  He shifted his eyes to her. “Yeah, sure. He’s a good guy, and I respect him for all he’s done. He’s just…He pushed us all pretty hard when we were growing up. You know the type. Do better. Do more. Be the best at whatever you do.” He stopped to pick up a stone and tossed it into the water. “I think it’s what’s driven me to be so focused on my career, so it was a good thing. At least for me.”

  “If my dad had a little of that in him, then it might have helped me,” she admitted.

  He pulled her close and gazed into her eyes. She loved his face, the soft crease beside his nose, the sweet fullness of his lips, and she could look at his eyes all night. Kurt had kind, emotional eyes. She read a thousand things in them in the space of a breath. Happiness, hope, generosity, desire. What she didn’t see was what she’d seen earlier—the restrained yearning to be writing. And she was relieved.

  “Helped you with what?”

  She shifted her eyes away. This was the hard part. A little fear weaseled its way into her heart and kicked up her pulse.

  When she didn’t answer, he took her hand and turned back in the direction they’d come. He didn’t push her for an answer or act as though he was annoyed by her silence. She added that to the growing list of things she really liked about Kurt.

  “Do you have a big family?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Four brothers and a sister. We’re all pretty close. I meet them for drinks about once a month, and we all have dinner with our parents every few weeks. You?” he asked.

  “Mm-hm. Three brothers and a sister.” She stole a glance at him, and he draped his arm around her shoulder.

  “I’m not going to judge you, you know. Not that you have to tell me anything, but I can see you’re worrying about something.” He kissed the side of her head. “I like who you are.”

  “You might not after you get to know me better.” She held her breath, and when he squeezed her shoulder, she relaxed a little. They made their way back to the blanket, and Kurt tied Pepper’s leash around his ankle.

  “Sit,” he told Pepper. Pepper lay down with his head on his front paws.

  “I still can’t believe you can get him to do that.” She held the plastic wineglasses as he filled them.

  “I think it’s all in the voice. My father used that trick with us. You know, the one tone that had you shaking in your shoes.”

  “I guess, but my dad never used that with us.” She watched him closely, looking for signs of his wishing he were elsewhere.

  He leaned his elbows on his knees, and for a few minutes there was only the sound of the waves.

  “I’m not thinking about writing, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “What makes you think I’m wondering anything at all?”

  He turned to look at her and smiled. “You’ve got an assessing look in your eyes. When you look at me, you’re kind of sizing me up, or weighing what you should or shouldn’t say. I can feel it.” He took a sip of wine. “Am I wrong?”

  She traced the line of a muscle up his arm. “No. You’re right. Here’s the thing. I’m twenty-eight, well educated, well traveled, and besides being with Pepper, I’ve never found a single thing that I knew without a doubt was right for me. I’ve gone through eight jobs in the last two years. I’ve moved to three states in four years, and my Sweet Treats business is my latest effort in finding a fulfilling career. And I know that’s totally not the type of person you are, so I was a little afraid to tell you.”

  He nodded and took a sip of wine. Then he wrapped his arm around her. She snuggled in against his warm, muscular body, one arm draped across his stomach, her head against his chest and arm, and she waited for him to say something. Anything. For the longest time, he was quiet. He was careful, she realized. Words were his life, and he seemed to choose the most meaningful words, or the ones that most accurately reflected his thoughts. Another thing to add to her Like List.

  When he finally spoke, his tone was thoughtful and tender.

  “Sometimes it’s the interest we take or don’t take in things that makes them fulfilling—or not.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Well, like with writing. If I wrote about characters or topics I didn’t enjoy, writing wouldn’t hold my interest. But writing is such a personal endeavor that I make a conscious effort to write about the things that do hold my interest. I break the rules. My work isn’t formulaic, and if people don’t like what I write…” He shrugged. “They don’t have to read it, but at least I’m happy while I’m writing.”

  “But not every job is like that.”

  He set down his wine and turned to look at her. “Tell me about your business. Why did you choose it? Do you enjoy what you’re doing?”

  “I love what I’m doing. It’s creative and fun, and I get to meet a lot of interesting people. I have flexible hours. I mean, I really love it, and I know that’s weird, because I’m just making jam.”

  “Just? I couldn’t make jam. And you’re not just making jam; your jam is incredibly sweet.” He leaned over and kissed her. “I’m dying to know how you chose that path.”

  “It’s kind of weird, I think. There was this really sweet old man, Al Black, and he used to sell jam at the flea market. We were friends for years. I was just a kid when we met, but every summer I’d spend a few hours a week with him at the flea market, and I really came to love him. Like a grandfather, you know? He told me stories about his family, and when he spoke of making jam…” She shook her head, remembering the look in Al’s eyes. “The way he looked, his eyes. It was like making jam was the most romantic thing in the world.” She ran her finger along his forearm, tracing a vein. “He died last winter, but before he passed, he called me and shared his recipes, and I don’t know. Everything came together in my heart. I knew I wanted to do the same thing. It only made sense to do it here, you know, to honor him?”

  He cupped her cheek, his eyes laden with compassion. “Leanna, that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Do you miss your friend?”

  No one had thought to ask her that, and she had to swallow past a growing lump in her throat. “Yeah. I do. This summer is the first summer he hasn’t been here, and I find myself looking for him sometimes. You must think I’m weird.” She looked down at the blanket, and he lifted her chin with his finger and drew her eyes back to his.

  “Not even close. I think you’re smart, and kind, and funny, and…special in the very best way.”

  She felt her cheeks flush. “I’m not. I’m just trying to find something…”

  “Are you fulfilled?” He searched her eyes.

  She inhaled deeply before answering, letting the salty sea air fill her lungs. “I guess I don’t know. I always feel like I want to do more.”

  “Me too. I always want to do more. I want to write more, write differently, take my readers to new places. Do you want to take your business to another level? Try new things with it? New flavors? Travel more? Or do something else altogether?”

  She shrugged, which she knew wasn’t an answer at all. “I never really overthink things. I want to enjoy my job. I want to love it, actually, but I also love life so much. All of it, from the yucky parts to the good parts. I hope to one day find something that fits that part of my personality. I’m enjoying the jam business so much, and the flea markets, that I’m kind of hoping this feeling remains. I just wish I could know for sure now.” Pepper inched up beside them and put his head on Kurt’s leg. Ku
rt’s eyes never wavered from her.

  “Is there some reason you are putting so much pressure on yourself? I can see you’re a little stressed over this. Do you have a career deadline?”

  She laughed. “A career deadline? No, but I’m almost thirty. Shouldn’t I know what I want to do?”

  He kissed her softly, and she nearly melted into him.

  “My mother would say that no two people are the same and not to compare yourself to what others think you should be like.”

  Kurt’s voice—and his words—soothed the rough edges of the pressure she had been putting on herself. He made her feel better about her inability to commit to a career.

  “So you don’t think I’m a hopeless, reckless, nightmare?”

  He smiled. “Wow. All those things and a train wreck? No. You seem like you’re very passionate, and you just haven’t figured out where to direct your energies yet. You’ll figure it out.” He shrugged. “Or you won’t, and if you don’t, you’ll have spent your life doing all sorts of things along the way that you, hopefully, enjoyed, so will it really matter?”

  He leaned in closer, and she could barely breathe. He wasn’t judging her. He wasn’t telling her all the reasons she needed to make a career choice. Him of all people. Kurt Remington. The man who knew exactly what he wanted—the man who was slowly stealing little pieces of her heart.

  “The truth is, most people spend more time with their jobs than they do with their spouses, so if you don’t enjoy it, you’ll…divorce it.” His voice grew serious. “Life’s too short to stay married to a career you hate. You’re probably smarter than half the people out there who are begrudgingly going to their jobs every day.”

  His lips were a breath away from hers. She could smell the sweet wine on them, and she could feel the heat coming off of him in waves. She didn’t think before she spoke. She looked into his eyes, and the words came from her heart.