Begin Again (Home In You Book 2)

by Crystal Walton

  Cooper and Livy got out while Ti twisted in her seat toward Drew. “This morning, when we were watching Sweet Home Alabama, Maddie said something about you going to the inlet during storms. That you were waiting for lightning to strike the sand.”

  “Okay, slow down. That’s not why I went to the inlet. You’re not making any sense.”

  “I’m talking about lightning creating sea glass.”

  Drew unbuckled his seat belt. “Yeah, that’s not how it works.”

  “I know that, but she doesn’t. To her, the movie was true. Don’t you get it?” Ti opened her door. “She’s trying to save the shop. And you.”

  His stomach sank. Agitated laps of water beat into the dock where his boat should’ve been. He bolted out of the Jeep, Jasper on his heels. “We have to get there.”

  “Already a step ahead of you, hoss.” Cooper tossed him a set of keys to Jacob’s boat as he and Livy came back down from the house. “Jacob said the tank’s full.”

  Drew hastened to undock the speedboat. “You guys don’t have to go with me.”

  Cooper helped Ti and Livy aboard. “As if that was ever a question.”

  Not for the first time in his life, Drew was glad it wasn’t.

  The nose of the boat dipped and rose while carving a white path through the water. Lightning flashes illuminated the deep violet sky with dangerous beauty. His knuckles whitened over the gearshift. Please, let her be okay.

  Ti curled an arm around his. A single touch shouldn’t be able to hush the storm inside him. But with her there, his panic followed the rain’s transition into a slow, tapered drizzle.

  Cooper was wrong. Drew hadn’t spent all these years waiting for Annie to come home. He’d been waiting for Ti. No doubting could deny it. She was an answer to a prayer he hadn’t known how to pray.

  Swallowing hard, he slowed the engine as they approached the shallower water.

  Ti gripped his sleeve. “You hear that?”

  The faint sound of singing whispered in the wind. “When the lights turn dark and the shadows deep, close your eyes and drift to sleep.”

  A sniffled laugh feathered against him. “She’s singing the song I taught her in the hospital.”

  Jasper’s ears perked up. One beat, and he dove off the edge of the boat, barking like he’d just chowed a pallet of Mighty Dog. Drew would’ve been right behind if Ti hadn’t kept him grounded in place.

  He maneuvered the boat to the shore alongside Dad’s skiff and sprang out. “Sea Monkey?” He sprinted through the sand on Jasper’s trail.

  “Dad?” Tucked between two bushes on the far end of the inlet, Maddie hugged Jasper to her chest.

  Drew scooped them in his arms, never more relieved to hold her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He kissed her head. “Me too, baby.”

  Jasper licked every last raindrop off her face, clearly not wanting to share her.

  Drew set them both down but kept Maddie close. Kneeling in the wet sand, he cupped both sides of her face. “Listen to me. I didn’t mean what I said back there. Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

  “I thought if I could bring back—”

  “I know.” He encased her in a hug and glanced up at Ti. “But how about we make some glass together back at the shop.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I have something I want to show you.” Something he should’ve brought back into their life a long time ago.

  Ti beamed at them, and Drew had to shove the relentless knot back down his throat when Maddie flung her arms around Ti’s waist.

  “I knew you’d come.” She squeezed even tighter. “The song you taught me . . . It really worked. I felt courageous like you.”

  Ti brushed Maddie’s wet bangs away from her eyes and fluttered a glance out to the sound, stumbling over a compliment as usual. What would it take for her to see how much she had to offer?

  A similar question rippled back to Drew in a familiar voice he would’ve sworn was Dad’s.

  Cooper swept Maddie into the air when they reached the boats. “I thought we agreed you could only do crazy things with me, Freckles.”

  “Sorry, Uncle Coop.”

  He set her down and rustled Jasper’s ears. “Well, if Jasper forgives you for leaving him out, I guess I can, too.”

  Maddie returned Cooper’s wink as he lifted her into the skiff.

  Ti headed for Jacob’s boat instead. “We’ll meet you two back at the house.”

  “Ride with us,” Maddie pleaded.

  “I think you and your dad probably need a little time alone, love.”

  Not anymore. Drew grabbed Ti’s hand, hoping everything reeling inside him came through his eyes in place of words.

  Ti glanced over at Livy, who gave her a prompting nod.

  Cooper cranked his engine. “Beat you home.”

  Drew looked between the two boats. “In what world would that be a fair race?” And how was he able to play it cool so easily?

  “It’s the driver who makes a boat. Not the other way around.”

  “Spoken like Dad.”

  Shifting gears, Cooper grinned. “I did end up with a little of him in me, you know.”

  More than Drew had realized. He waved them off and eased the skiff into gear. Ti and Maddie sat in the back, glued at the hip once again. The way it should be.

  A steady pace kept the skiff charging through the waves and Drew’s thoughts through all the things he needed to tell Ti.

  If she’d give him the chance.

  Would she leave as soon as they got back?

  The dock approached much too soon. He navigated into the harbor, not ready to trade one storm for another.

  They all piled into the Jeep with Maddie sandwiched between the girls in the back seat. Drew drove through his hometown on autopilot as vacationers careened through puddles in their golf carts.

  A peek in the rearview mirror showed Ti staring out the window, lost in thoughts he’d pay a thousand pennies for. Then again, maybe he didn’t want to know.

  Familiar insecurities cropped up as he downshifted around a curve.

  No. No more doubts. He needed to man up and fight for her, no matter the risk. As soon as they parked, he’d pull her aside and tell her—

  “Stop the car.”

  Drew darted his attention from the street to the mirror.

  Ti flipped the lock on her door. “Stop the car, Drew.”

  He swerved to the side of the road. “What’s going on?”

  “I have to go.”

  What? Drew tasked Cooper to man the car and hustled after her. “Ti, wait. Slow down. Can we just talk a minute?” He caught up and stopped her by the shoulders.

  Standing in the glow of his headlights, she looked away but couldn’t hide the tremor shaking down her arms.

  He peered behind him to the shadows. “What’s wrong?”

  She pushed the matted hair off her forehead. “You need to go. Please, take Maddie and get out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving.” He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry for being a royal jerk at the shop earlier. Excuses don’t matter. Truth is, I was scared. Of losing you. Of the things you make me feel.” He edged in. “I still am, but I’m not walking away.”

  Eyes closed, Ti turned her head. “You have to.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Drew, I can’t.” She tried to sidestep him, but he kept hold of her hand.

  “Can’t what? What are you running from?”

  “From hurting you.” When she whirled around, the wounds in her expression seared into his heart over the ones he’d placed there himself. Grandma Jo was right. It was time to heal.

  “None of us can avoid pain, Ti. It’s part of life.” He pulled her close. “And love. That doesn’t mean we give up on either.” It’d taken him much longer than it should’ve to learn that.

  “I know.” Ti took in an unsteady breath, silenced the tremble in her shoulders, and met his gaze with the o
cean-blue eyes he’d come to rely on. “And this is me, loving you.” She lifted on her tiptoes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

  Drew kept her close, wanting her to feel safe, loved. She inhaled against him as if about to say more but then let go. Crestfallen, he stood, watching her leave one choice for another.

  Chapter Thirty

  Waves

  Breathe. Everything around Ti slowed, every noise amplified. The rain’s steady patter against the ground. Distant murmurs in the wind. Tree branches rustling, footsteps nearing.

  How’d he find her? She wrenched her eyes shut, but fears kept taunting. An unsteady breath traveled through her lungs, her pulse through her ears. Darkness clawed all around.

  Breathe.

  She had to face him, had to end this. She loved Drew and Maddie too much to hide this time. She wouldn’t let him near them. Ti straightened her spine. “I know you’re h—”

  A hand covered her nose and mouth from behind and pulled her deeper into the shadows. Rough fingers absorbed her cry as hot, shallow breaths strained against the barricade she couldn’t break free from.

  “Don’t be scared.” A deep voice rumbled over her hair. “I just want to talk. I’m letting go, okay? Just take it easy.” He slowly loosened his hold.

  Ti shoved away from him. Chest heaving, she glared at her nightmare standing in front of her. Weathered. Gaunt. Aged by the effects of his lifestyle.

  He grimaced as though hurt by her expression. “It’s me, Trina. Dad.”

  “My name’s not Trina anymore. And I don’t have a dad.”

  The vehemence in her words furrowed his brow. “I deserve that.”

  He didn’t have a clue what he deserved. Her nails dug into her palms with the force of all the emotions boiling inside her.

  Taking hesitant steps forward, he stared at the ground, as if searching for a boundary line to tell him where to stop. “Honey, I’m sorry. I know what you must be thinking. If you’ll just hear me out, I—”

  “Hear you out?” Her clenched jaw started to shake. “I spend every day trying to forget the way you never spoke up for me. Don’t you dare ask me to listen now.”

  “You think I don’t want to go back and change that?” He tugged off his newsboy cap and wiped his sweaty face. “You know what it’s like to spend eleven years in a six-by-eight cell, wishing you could rewrite the life you screwed up?”

  Traitorous tears clouded everything around her. “I had a jail cell, too. In my own bedroom.” Her prison of memories closed in.

  He touched her arm. “Tri—”

  “Don’t.” She recoiled and tried to square her shoulders, but the broken little girl inside her came undone. “You never even checked on me after your dealers left. Was I that worthless to you?” She charged him. “Just a means to a temporary high. Is that all I was?” Ti pounded the side of her fist to his frail chest. “Tell me!”

  “No.” He held her wrists down. His burly voice dwindled to a hoarse whisper. “You never should’ve been caught in the middle of our addictions.”

  Ti pulled free, regaining her balance and what remained of her faltering composure. “It’s a little late for that.”

  The age lines around his worn blue eyes sank deeper. “I know I can’t change the past, but I’m not the same man I was then.”

  “No?” She huffed. “You get out of jail and come chasing my money for no reason?” It might’ve been a long shot for him to get into her bank account, but that had to be what he was after, desperate for his next score.

  “I’m not looking for your money.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  A reluctant pause intercepted another unsure step forward. He leaned away from her and coughed with the abused lungs of a long-term smoker. Eyes fixed on the pavement, he clutched his cap to his chest. “I came to make amends.”

  Heated paralysis channeled down her body until she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Whether from anger, shock, or cynicism, she wasn’t sure. “A . . . mends?” The word circled around her brain in a failing attempt to register. “By breaking into my studio and stalking me?” Did he think she was stupid?

  Emotions she didn’t have the energy to decipher pulled at his eyes. “You shut me out. I couldn’t get a hold of you. What did you want me to do?”

  “The same thing you need to do right now.” She clipped his shoulder on her way past him. “Stay out of my life.”

  “Please, baby. Your mom’s gone,” he called through the raspy cough of illness. “And I will be soon, too.”

  Ti halted on the sidewalk with her back toward him. Raindrops funneled from her hair down her arms, the cold not penetrating. She’d spent too long learning to become stone. She wouldn’t crumble now. “Good.”

  He deserved the consequences of the life he chose. Something pricked her heart, but she kept walking. Away from giving him what he’d never earn.

  The salt lamp glowed on Maddie’s dresser in place of the sun yet to come up. Drew feathered a kiss to Maddie’s forehead, lifted quietly off the mattress, and cast one more look over his little girl, safe in her bed, before reaching to turn off the lamp.

  “When’s she coming back?”

  Drew stalled with his hand on the switch.

  Jasper stretched and yawned at the sound of Maddie’s sleep-heavy voice while Drew searched for his own.

  “Ti. She’ll come to see me today, won’t she? I mean, before she leaves?”

  Her tender questions burrowed into the ones that hadn’t stopped festering since last night. She had such insight for her age. Maybe more than him.

  Drew brought the covers up to her chin. “I’m sure she will, Sea Monkey.” Ti may not want to see him, but if he knew her at all, she’d at least say good-bye to Maddie.

  “Can we leave it on?” She stopped him as he went to turn off the lamp again. “Please?”

  Nodding his understanding, Drew left on the light he prayed Ti wouldn’t forget about and gave Jasper and Maddie both a kiss. His shoulders sagged once he eased the door closed behind him.

  In the dark hallway, he backed against the wall and hung his chin to his chest.

  There was so much he didn’t understand. But if Ti had to leave because she loved him, then maybe loving her in return meant letting her go. She’d dreamed of having her work in a gallery, and San Francisco was her chance. He wouldn’t hold her back from that. She deserved it.

  The clock in the living room echoed up the stairs while beams of passing headlights stretched across the hallway. A break in the shadows hinted to the promise of a new day coming. One he needed more than ever.

  On instinct, Drew grabbed his surfboard and left for the beach and another sunrise.

  The waves’ soothing rhythm greeted him on the cool shore. Foamy water peppered with gritty sand flowed around his feet in a welcome he knew as home. This was part of him. The island. The beach. The shop. Even Annie. It was part of his heritage, his identity.

  Water crept higher up his calves, luring him to a race he swam every day since losing Dad. Waves churned. His pulse echoed—one beat, another. The board’s edges sawed into his hands as his feet lost their grip on the shoreline.

  He’d messed up so many times, had tried to carry everything on his shoulders. Blinded by pride, afraid of failure. Through all the ways he’d fought to shelter himself and Maddie from the risk of getting hurt, he’d lost sight of the truth Dad had instilled in him.

  Drew wedged the end of his board into the sand. No more racing. No more searching. He was done trying to be someone he wasn’t. Done striving on his own. He’d spent years chasing the horizon. Demanding answers, desperate to cling to control. But maybe Grandma Jo had been right the whole time about needing to let go. Of bitterness. Of the defenses binding him to the things that’d broken him.

  Was he finally ready?

  Orange-dusted clouds gradually gave way to a sliver of sunlight. Inch by inch, warmth stretched across his face in an embrace waiting for a response.

&
nbsp; With a long breath of surrender, he lifted his eyes to the heavens. Even if he didn’t know how, he had to believe Dad was right. Perseverance built character, character hope.

  The kind worth risking.

  “Still slaying the ocean at sunrise?” Annie’s familiar voice blended into the sound of the beach as it’d done a million times since they’d met.

  He laid his board aside. “Not anymore.”

  “And I thought some things would never change.”

  “Sometimes they have to.”

  Head down, she dragged her feet in the sand. Long red curls caressed her shoulders the way his fingers used to. Memories washed over him. But for the first time, they didn’t stem from a place of grief or bitterness. They rose from a place of release.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “No, it’s fine.” He sat on the cool sand. “I’m actually glad you came.”

  She joined him on the dry shoreline.

  Arm to arm in a pose he’d gone years missing, Drew sat beside one answer he didn’t have to search for anymore.

  “Drew, I’m sorry—”

  “Not as much as me.” He unburied a cockleshell and wiped the sand from inside, the truth so much harder to purge. “I always thought you were my first love, but you and Coop were right. It was the life I always envisioned having here.”

  “Your dad’s life.” Her freckled arm grazed his with insight.

  No wonder their daughter brimmed with intuition.

  Drew’s smile dimmed. “He had everything.”

  “So do you.” Instead of bitterness, a sense of admiration hung on her words.

  He looked across the waves. Had it always been enough?

  The truth eased out with a slow exhale. “I’m sorry for trying to force you to fit that life, Annie. For trying to make you someone you didn’t want to be.” And here, he’d been doing the same thing to Ti—asking her to stay and give up who she was. Could he be any more selfish?

  “We were kids. I didn’t even know who I was myself.” A sad laugh flittered over him. “Still don’t, half the time.”

  “I know the feeling.” It shouldn’t take this many mistakes to figure it out.

  “Are you joking? You’ve known who you wanted to be since we were five. I always admired how sure of yourself you were. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”