by Jillian Neal
“Hey, Evie, baby, it’s Daddy! I miss you!”
“Hi, Daddy! Are you still at the beach?” Her exuberance effectively shattered what little remained of his heart.
Four
Sienna sipped her coffee, with lots of sugar and no cream, and tried to come up with some kind of plan. Construction wasn’t really something she had any experience with. She could certainly sew new curtains and recover some of the furniture that she wanted to keep. She wasn’t afraid of hard work. She just wasn’t certain where to begin on the house itself. The idea of hiring someone to help her was very appealing, and she did have the loan to restore The Inn, but she had no idea who she could trust. Maybe Mac would know. Mac and Molly Montgomery knew everything as far as she could tell, at least about Gypsy Beach.
That thought brought a smile to her lips as she drew another sip of the delectable coffee. Her grandmother always made coffee on the stove with a percolator, and Sienna had been an addict since she was twelve. There was nothing like a fresh pot from Nana’s enamel percolator. She decided right then and there to give up the paper cups with cardboard sleeves that had seen her through the last five years while she’d driven her van from Norfolk to L.A. and back again in some kind of desperate quest to locate what she’d had all along at Gypsy Beach. She should have moved back after high school, but at that time, she couldn’t stand to be there.
Nana had understood and told her to take her trip and to find herself. She’d quoted the wanderers’ oath more times that Sienna cared to recall. Not everyone that wanders may have been lost, but she was.
Well, she was back right where she belonged and she was going to make this work. She loved the beach, the town, the people, and she loved her Inn more than anything else. Downing the last sip of her coffee, Sienna tried to bolster her resolve. She needed a shower, but hadn’t been able to figure out how to magically make hot water work in the house. Something akin to liquid ice was all that fell from any of the faucets.
With a screeching squeal, she flung off her sweatpants and forced herself to leap into the polar vortex that was her new shower. The frigid water bit at her olive skin and turned her lips blue, but she forged onward.
She needed to talk to the Montgomerys — if she survived the icy plunge.
Up before the sunrise, Ryan tried to mentally prepare for his day. He knew owners were heading back into town to collect on insurance money and try to get their homes and businesses ready for the upcoming season. There were even investors looking to build a new hotel a little further down Gypsy Beach. The township was working to keep its eclectic charm, but tourism was the source of the money, and everyone understood that.
It was a balance he knew he could strike. They didn’t need a forty-story condo highrise, but fixing up Gypsy Beach and giving tourists a few more options on places to stay was something he could do well.
He just needed to know which door to knock on first. With his own resolute determination driving him, he stepped into Montgomery’s Surf, Turf, and Coffee.
The odd combination of suntan lotion, foam boards, spray-paint, coffee, and pie took him back ten years in one draw of breath.
Mac Montgomery shook his head. He was beaming, and his soothing chuckle settled Ryan. “Well, look at what the tide washed up this morning! As I live and breathe, son, how are you?”
“Hey, Mr. Montgomery. I’m okay. Just looking for a little work. Thought you’d be the man to talk to.” He never was one for small talk or beating around the bush. Plus, he planned to get a full day of work in that very day.
“Well, how ‘bout a cup of coffee and you tell me what kinda work you’re looking for, Ryan.”
“Thank you, sir.” He accepted the coffee gratefully, but the kind eyes of Mac Montgomery that held not one trace of judgment, disappointment, or disdain fed his soul more than the soothing warmth of the mug he’d set in front of him.
“Well, Ryan McNamara, how are you doing, sweetheart? So good to see you!” Molly came out of the storeroom carrying two plates full of bacon, eggs, and toast.
Ryan’s mouth watered. He could afford a cup of coffee, but he didn’t need to eat out much until he’d secured work. He just didn’t have the money. He’d had a bowl of store-brand cereal at home. He tried to remind his stomach of that, but it protested rather loudly.
“Hey, Ms. Montgomery, I’m okay. It’s so nice to see you.” He attempted to talk over the growl of his gut.
Mac shook his head. “Mol, how ‘bout fixin Ryan a ‘welcome back to the beach’ breakfast. It’s the house specialty, and it’s also on the house.”
“You got it, and Ryan, baby, you make me feel old with all that Mrs. Montgomery. You look like you might’ve grown up just a little in the last ten years or so, so let’s go with Mac and Molly.
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I’m sorry!”
Mac laughed and talked with another patron, one Ryan didn’t recognize.
When Molly set the plate down, Ryan started to protest, but neither of the Montgomerys were hearing of it. His arguing drowned quickly in the eggs Molly fried him, runny just like he loved them. He devoured the white toast which he dipped in the yellow yolk, and the plate was empty just a few minutes later.
“Now, what’s this about work?”
Wiping his mouth with the napkin, he nodded. “Yes, sir. I, uh, well, I used to run a pretty successful construction company back in Atlanta.” He gestured his thumb westward, though that was entirely unnecessary. “Anyway, I’d like to start another company up here. Maybe help everyone rebuild after the storm. I’m gonna fix up my parent’s old place. I’d like to stay here, if I can.”
He wasn’t certain that he needed the Montgomerys’ permission to take up residence at Gypsy Beach, but something deep inside of him needed them to accept him. They’d been running the half-surf shack half-coffee shop for over fifty years. There was rumor that Mac, Molly, and Ruth Cooper had been in the same band of gypsies that had settled Gypsy Beach during the Great Depression; not that Ryan really believed any of the old Gypsy legends anymore. At one time he’d believed because Sienna believed, but that was a lifetime ago. The legends made great fodder for tourists and nothing more.
“Well, I think you’re in the right place, son, maybe just a little too early. People still waiting to hear back from investors and insurance adjusters, but ya know, somebody just bought Ruth Cooper’s old Inn. Said they were gonna re-do it. Had investors. It’d be a big job. Ruth just couldn’t take care of it in her later years. It needs a lot of work. New owners looking to have it ready for the season. Maybe finish that job, and by then a few others will have their checks in hand. You prove yourself with the Inn, and I’d say people will be beating down your doors looking for you to help ‘um out.”
Ryan’s brow furrowed when Molly half-gasped and half-coughed. “Sorry, just went down the wrong pipe.” She held up her coffee mug, but she was shaking her head at Mac.
Having no time to consider what might be going on with them, Ryan debated. Going back to the Inn would be pure torture. Everything about that house would remind him of Sienna, but he had to work, and it sounded like a big job. He could restore it to its original glory and prove to the town that he wasn’t his father. He could show off his skills and his determination to keep the glory of Gypsy Beach as the eclectic town it was and not turn it into Panama City Beach.
With another deep breath of salt-soaked, coffee-infused air, he managed a nod. “Thank you, I’ll head out there this morning.”
“Yeah, I would. They were anxious to get started.” Mac couldn’t quite hide the smirk on his face. Ryan offered him his hand, which he shook heartily. “You’ll be all right, son. Gypsy Beach has a way of setting things to rights. After a round of bad luck comes good fortune. You’ll see.”
“I really hope you’re right about that, Mac. Thanks for your help.”
“Go on, son. Don’t waste the day.”
“Yes sir, I’m going. I’m not wasting any more days. Thanks so much for breakfast!”
<
br /> “Anytime, and don’t forget that there are people that want to help.”
With another nod, Ryan found himself sprinting out the screened doors and heading towards The Gypsy Inn.
Molly was still shaking her head while Mac cleared Ryan’s plate and wiped down the lunch counter in the back of their store. “Macmillan Montgomery, you know good and well that she didn’t buy that Inn, Ruth left it to her. She just got it out of probate. What are you up to?”
Mac smirked as he wrapped his arms around his wife. “Sometimes, Molly Ann, life gets in the way and love just needs a second chance. That boy’s been through hell. You can see it in his eyes.”
“We saw it in the papers, and you’re just lucky I gave you a second chance.” Molly elbowed him with that smirk that he’d fallen head over heels for.
“Don’t I know it,” Mac agreed. “Let’s just hope Ruth put enough love in that girl’s heart and enough magic in that Inn to give him a second chance.”
Just then, four men with tool belts slung around their waists took stools at the counter. Mac and Molly shared a knowing grin.
“You Mr. Montgomery?” one with a rather stern voice inquired.
“That’d be me,” Mac challenged.
“Got a crew in Charlotte. Heard there were several buildings that people were taking bids on reconstruction down here. We’re in the business, and thought we’d see if you knew where we might could be of assistance.”
Mac nodded his understanding. “Gotta tell you, gentlemen, town’s full of construction crews right now. I believe the business is gone and the checks have been written, so to speak. You’re a little late, but ‘bout fifty miles down the coast right before the Carolina line they got a lot more damage than we did. If I was you, I’d head there right directly.”
Five minutes later, Mac was being thanked profusely, and then they watched the large F-150’s pull away and head towards the Interstate. Molly was still laughing.
“Just in case Ruth missed something, figured I should help.” Mac winked at her.
Five
The knowledge that this was all for Evie and for the life he wanted to build for her echoed in the choked whir of the engine of his truck. A new car could be purchased after he had his little girl safely with him and he’d turned his parents’ old beach house into their home.
To his parents’ fury, and mostly to annoy them, Ryan had refused to sell the beach house to help cover the cost of his father’s crimes. He’d paid off their mansion and managed to keep his dad out of jail, but the beach house was non-negotiable.
Unable to plan beyond the next demand or the next moment, he hadn’t known why it was so important then, but he was eternally thankful that he’d listened to his gut.
Alexa had thrown him out of their home in Buckhead the next week. He’d moved into his parent’s pool house after reminding his father that he’d effectively saved his ass, and began to formulate a plan to escape everything he’d ever really known.
The truck bumped and bounced over the massive tree roots that stuck out of the ground. Reminding himself that Sienna was long gone and that the Inn now had new owners was how he forced himself out of the truck. She’s probably off in California like she always wanted to be. She’s probably married to some lucky bastard without even half the problems you have. She deserves to be happy and fulfilled. Thoughts of Sienna lying in bed under some unnamed man, staring up at him with that hunger in her eyes, made him furious. He shook them away as he eased onto the porch. There was a large hole, the approximate shape of a boot, that had gone through the rotting wood. The decks and porches needed to come down first. He could do that today.
The door was open just a crack. It appeared too swollen to fully close. Ryan knocked, and it swung open further. He glanced around, not wanting to walk into someone else’s home. Not wanting to walk in at all.
The memories were far too potent. It even smelled like her grandmother’s cooking and that coffee she used to make them that tasted like heaven. The only thing sweeter was kissing it off of Sienna’s lips.
Suddenly, he heard a shrill scream from upstairs. Another echo of terror met him on the steps that he took three at a time. It sounded like someone was being attacked.
Working on instinct alone, he threw open one of the bedroom doors and raced towards the shrieking shouts of fear.
“Oh my God! This is horrible!” He heard her voice one half second before he flung open the bathroom door.
Another shriek ricocheted through his ears as Sienna grabbed an old hand towel and attempted to cover her absolutely spellbinding body. Shock rocketed through Ryan. He didn’t know what to think, but he was unable to do anything more than stare at her. She’d been beautiful when she was seventeen, but damn, she was a full-blown woman now, and he’d never seen anything more breathtaking.
Her beautiful, heart-shaped face was contorted in horrified shock. Her hair was soaking wet and did a decent job of covering her painfully hardened nipples. His eyes tracked downward without his permission. She’d covered the bottom half of her breasts, her slender waist, and her pussy with the towel, much to his chagrin. He saw half of a large tattoo that ran from her back over her luscious ass and down her right leg. Ryan ordered himself to turn around, but my God, she was exquisite. It was like being presented with a feast after a long, long famine.
“Sienna? I’m so sorry!” He finally managed to turn and tried not to look back.
“Ryan!” she finally gasped.
“Sienna, I had no idea you were here. I heard someone screaming. I’m so sorry!” He kept repeating the vow, but he couldn’t make sense of what had just happened himself.
“Go in there,” she ordered, and he assumed she pointed to the door. With a quick nod, he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
He was pacing when she stumbled out with her hair wrapped up in the towel and a short silk robe tied up tightly to cover anything she certainly didn’t want him seeing.
“I’m sorry,” he offered again.
“Uh,” she nodded and glanced around the room that he thought was one of the guestrooms, if he remembered correctly. He wondered if she’d had the same trouble of staying in a bed that they’d been in together. Don’t be such an idiot. She’s moved on. You’re the sap that hasn’t.
“What are you doing here?” she finally managed.
Heat had fevered his cheeks. He ran his right hand over his face but couldn’t wipe away that image of her stepping out of the shower. Damn, that’d fuel his fantasies for another ten years.
“I… uh… well…” He wasn’t certain what to say. “I came back to town yesterday. I kind of own a construction company, or I did, and I wanted to help rebuild after the storm. I’m staying at my parent’s old house. Uh,” he swallowed down any information she wouldn’t care to hear. “I went to Montgomery’s this morning, and Mac said someone bought the old Inn and wanted to redo it. I didn’t know it was you. I wouldn’t have bothered you. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” Sienna nodded again. “Well, I mean, it’s nice to see you, I guess.” She sounded as if that were the farthest possible thing from the truth.
“I’ll just go.” Ryan ordered his body to move, but his treacherous feet kept him rooted to the floor where he was standing. Defeat took another vicious blow at his body as he saw the only viable option he had left wash away with the damn tide.
Sienna seemed to consider. “Wait, you said you own a construction company?”
Stupidly, he let hope spring anew. “Uh, kind of. I did. I’m really good. I know what I’m doing. I swear Sienna I’m really sorry about everything that happened between us. I know that’s way too little way too late, but I’d really like to help you rebuild this place if you want. I mean, I’ll understand if you don’t, but it’ll be strictly business. I really need this job.” His head fell in ultimate defeat.
He’d vowed his eternal love to her. Kept her up night after night all of their Senior year, swearing that he’d be back to the beach th
at summer and that they’d be together forever. Then his parents threatened to kick him out if he didn’t stop calling her, they’d ordered him to summer school, driven him to Athens and his life had effectively fallen apart. Now he was asking her for a job. She should slap the shit out of him; he deserved at least that.
Nana! If you did something that made this happen… Ugh! I should have buried you so I could dig you up and scream at you for this! Ryan McNamara was standing in what she’d decided would be her new bedroom, asking to become her contractor. He looked so utterly devastated and so completely sexy that it broke her heart all over again.
My God, how had she forgotten the way his eyes always revealed the storm in his soul? His enviably long eyelashes lifted in slowly timed blinks as if he didn’t want to stop looking at her. Muscles rippled out from under the thin, white, t-shirt he was wearing, and the toolbelt slung low on his waist had the makings of some kind of delicious fantasy. The kind she often had lying in her bed at night with her favorite vibrator in hand.
“I’m an idiot for even asking, and I swear I wouldn’t, but I’m desperate, Sienna. If you want to hear all of the shit that has become my life, I’ll tell you, but you don’t owe me anything. I don’t deserve a job or even a conversation with you. I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t know you’d bought this place.”
“I didn’t.” She took one step closer, and Ryan’s heart threatened to burst from his ribcage. He drew a ragged breath and willed that damn gown to disappear. “Uh, I mean, Nana left it to me. I had to stop my mom from selling it out from under me, and pay the taxes and stuff, but I kind of wanted to open the Inn again. I do need a contractor.” That information didn’t seem to make her very happy.
“Yeah, I know, but I’m sure you don’t want it to be me.” An uncomfortable silence drowned the heat that sizzled between them.
