by Quinn Ward
Brook was a huge fan of meditation and told me the only way to work through any problem was to put it out of your mind. Once the thoughts quieted, only then could a person find the answers they needed. It didn’t work. I couldn’t ease the weight on my shoulders. Too many people were counting on me. Dad wanted me close to him. James seemed eager to sell. Brook was getting closer to me. Work had training projects lined up for me for the next six months. I had a lease back in New York. I liked my life there.
But I was growing to love the peace of Sunset Beach too. Life in New York was familiar. Comfortable. Anonymous. Safe. The beach offered everything I’d only recently come to admit I wanted. Family. Roots. Love.
As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, I opened the mailbox in case the answer to my problems was right in front of me. Unlike Brook, who scanned page after page, carefully selecting the notes he read, I flipped to a random page, relying on the universe to provide some sort of guidance.
Life isn’t about waiting for the rain to pass… It’s about learning to dance in the rain.
I wish I could live at the beach forever.
To whoever reads this, I hope you live life to the fullest and live every second as if your last.
Love,
Caroline
“Live every second as if your last.” I reread that line countless times. I did that, but perhaps in the wrong way. I lived as if everything could be stolen away from me at any moment because I’d learned from a young age that the people who matter never stayed around. But maybe fucked-up logic was why I felt alone even in a room full of people. I dug deep into the back of the mailbox in search of a pen. The first time Brook brought me out here, I thought the idea of a mailbox where you could send messages to a kindred spirit was nothing more than a tourist trap, but there was something I needed to say to no one in particular.
By the time I finished putting my thoughts onto paper, the sun was fully above the horizon and the tide had started going out. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but that was okay. As Brook put it, I was living on beach time. I could get used to not living and dying by the clock. I replaced the notebook where I’d found it and turned back to the ocean. Closing my eyes, I took in the sound of the waves a moment longer before beginning the walk back to the inn.
Brook was still sound asleep when I peeked into the bedroom I’d come to think of as ours. He snuffled as he reached out to my side of the bed, grumbling something incoherent when his hand found nothing but air. I toed out of my sandals and ducked into the bathroom to rinse my feet. Another lesson I’d learned quickly: never assume you could brush all the sand off your skin. Few things were more uncomfortable than sleeping in a sandy bed. When I returned to the bedroom, ready to slip in next to Brook and get a few hours of peaceful rest, his eyes were wide open.
“I was starting to think I’d scared you off last night.” He held up the sheet in invitation. I rolled so my back was to his chest and scooted closer, needing to feel his body pressed against mine. We probably looked ridiculous with him trying to be the big spoon but he was my security blanket. Yes, the night had been particularly intense, but I wanted to find a way to prove to Brook nothing he did would send me running. Even if I left Sunset Beach, it wouldn’t be because of him. Even if we were only a temporary relief for one another, he would always hold a place in my heart. Brook was the man who’d taught me how to love, who made me want to live. That was a gift I’d cherish always.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I think it is.” I let out a deep, cleansing breath, at peace with the decision I’d made.
Hours later Brook was behind the desk poring over the upcoming weekend’s bookings. He was meticulous, dedicated to making sure everyone who visited Bird Island Inn had an experience tailored to their needs. James thought it was a waste of time that could be spent trying to build the clientele through social media or seeking out other advertising opportunities, but as far as I was concerned, Brook was a genius.
The care he took would pay out far greater than any social media campaign. A family that didn’t have to hunt down forgotten sand toys would appreciate knowing there were some stashed behind the front desk. The couple celebrating their anniversary would tell their friends how Brook made sure to have champagne and dessert delivered to the back deck for them at sunset. Brook was trying to grow the inn through organic means. The flip side was any gaffe on our part also held the potential to bring us down.
While I waited for James to arrive, I snuck behind the desk and wrapped my arms around Brook’s waist as I rested my chin on the top of his head. I’d never been into shorter guys, but I was beginning to see the advantages. All it took was a slight turn of my head and I was able to kiss Brook’s ear, whisper everything I wanted to do to him tonight when he inevitably showed up at my door again.
He squirmed to get out of my grasp, which only made me hold him tighter. “Dane, stop. What if someone comes into the lobby?”
“Everyone who’s checked in is out for the day, and there’s only one family checking in tonight,” I pointed out. I couldn’t be certain no one would interrupt us, but it was a calculated risk I was willing to make. With fewer than two dozen rooms, it was relatively easy to keep tabs on who was coming and going at any time. And most of the guests had been in the breakfast room that morning, talking about their plans for the day. It wasn’t my fault Brook turned me into this tactile beast. “I wish I didn’t have to go to lunch with James. I’d much rather pack a bag and go out to the island with you. I hate how busy it is on the weekends now. I want that to be our spot again.”
“Aww, does that mean you like it when I drag you down there and read to you?”
I swatted Brook on the ass. He knew damn well it’d become one of my favorite pastimes. That’s why I purposely chose to write my note into an unused notebook. For whatever reason, Brook never read from a book that wasn’t ragged and well-loved. Someday he might see the words I’d written this morning as the sun rose, and they’d be a reminder that what he felt for me wasn’t one-sided.
Brook turned his head and kissed my cheek, stiffening when the french doors leading out to the patio opened. “That man has the world’s worst timing.”
“While it’s refreshing to see that the two of you are getting along, I have to wonder if it’s occurred to either of you that this is neither the time nor the place for such displays,” James scolded as he ambled through the lobby. “Dane, are you ready for lunch?”
“Sure. Give me just a minute.” James disappeared into his office off the lobby. I turned to Brook, needing a bit of reassurance from him. Now that I was getting ready to talk business with my uncle, it was imperative that I know Brook would be with me tonight, and I told him as much.
I’d expected Brook to tell me he’d be up as soon as the last guest was checked in, so his response nearly knocked me on my ass. “We’ll have to see. I have to leave when you guys get back. There are some family matters I need to deal with.”
Why was this the first I was hearing about something going on with his family? Or had he told me, and I’d been so wrapped up in my own daytime drama that I hadn’t paid attention? The latter was far more plausible. I quickly schooled my features, determined to come across as unaffected. “Sure. I mean, maybe it would be best….”
Brook pressed his lips to mine, cutting off whatever I’d been about to say. When he pulled away, he held my face in his hands. “Dane, I’m not saying I won’t be there, but I do have to go home first. Grandpa hasn’t been doing well, even if he won’t admit it to me. I want to check on him, see if I can get him to let me make a doctor’s appointment. The last thing I need is him having any sort of emergency. The hospital here sucks, which means they’d transfer him to Myrtle Beach at the very least.”
“Would you like some company?” The offer was out of my mouth before I could second-guess myself. The only family of someone I’d been fucking that I’d ever met was Grady’s parents, and then only because I met them before we were
together. Meeting parents, or grandparents in this case, gave a level of commitment I’d never been willing to make. Until now. “Never mind. You probably don’t want—”
The little shit shut me up for the second time in a minute. “I’d love it. He’s asked after you, but I wasn’t sure you’d want to hang out with him. It’s bound to be a boring night, listening to him bitch at the television.”
“If it’s where you’re going to be, there’s nothing I’d like to do more.”
10
Brook
Love all, trust few, do wrong to none… -G
We need to talk.
I stared at the four-word text message I’d received, a hollow pit forming in my stomach. If Dane sent such an ominous message immediately following his lunch with James, the news couldn’t be good. It’d been increasingly difficult for me to keep what I knew about James and his struggles from Dane as we’d grown closer. As much as James wanted to respect his father’s wishes to keep the business in the family, his spending habits made that nearly impossible. The visits from those he owed money were becoming more frequent and heated as the weeks went on.
If James insisted they sell the inn, would Dane agree? His life would be simpler if he wasn’t tied to a business states away from the rest of his life.
Meet me at Bomber’s at 7, I responded. That was just long enough for me to run home, check on Grandpa, and get back to the main drag. Guilt crept into the back of my mind over how little time I’d spent at home since the week before the inn reopened. Grandpa tried to settle me, telling me it was important to have goals in life, but he also wasn’t aware my absence had little to do with my loyalty to the inn and everything to do with the way Dane Montgomery twisted me in knots.
“You staying the night with that Montgomery boy again tonight?” Grandpa asked while I sorted his medication into the organizer. I lost count of the pills and had to start over. Grandpa was old-fashioned. He knew I was gay, but it was a topic we never discussed. He said it was easier that way because he didn’t want to choose between his God and the boy he’d watched grow into a man. “Oh, come on now. You think I don’t still hear all that’s goin’ on in town? It’s no coincidence you stayin’ up there at the inn started about the same time Old Man Montgomery’s grandson came to town. From what I hear, he’s a good-lookin’ one. Polite too.”
“Yes, sir, he is,” I confirmed, wondering who in the heck Grandpa had been getting his information from, because his hip still wasn’t up to him walking down to the pier for morning coffee.
“So, you gonna fess up to what you’ve been gettin’ up to after hours, or we gonna keep on pretendin’ like you’re that dedicated to your job?” Grandpa shuffled into the kitchen, dumping the dregs of his last cup of coffee for the day down the drain. “I’m not a fool, boy. And I think it’s a good thing this boy’s here now. Phillip used to worry about him same as I worry ’bout you. You may be just what one another needs so us old farts can rest in peace.”
“Oh please, you’re probably going to outlive us all,” I scoffed. No way could I think about a world without Grandpa in it. There’d never be a day I was ready for that.
“Could happen, but it’s still comforting to think you may not wander lost once I’m gone, too scared to leave home,” he told me as he settled into the chair. “I know you don’t wanna hear it, but I’m gonna say it anyway. You’ve always been one to live your life tryin’ ta make other people happy. That’s a piss-poor way to live. You need to think long and hard about what’ll make you feel good about yourself. If you get swept away in a rip current tomorrow and find yourself nose to nose with St. Peter, what accomplishments have you made? I ain’t talkin’ ’bout things like takin’ care of everyone, because we all know that’ll get ya plenty of points, but what have you done to live? What’s your dream?”
Dreams aren’t set in stone, I wanted to tell him. They were like the shore, changing with the days. Most recently I’d allowed myself to consider what a life with Dane would be like. The two of us, living on the top floor of the inn, running it like a scaled-up version of a bed-and-breakfast. Dane would handle the business aspects, and I would be there for the guests. I’d become an ambassador for the mailbox, encouraging people to read from the archived notebooks in the library of the breakfast room, pointing them down the beach to leave notes of their own.
Perhaps it was a foolish aspiration in life, but I wanted to be a steward for Sunset Beach, helping the town grow and thrive when many other cities along the coast struggled. We didn’t need the flashy attractions of Carolina Beach or the party atmosphere of Myrtle. We were a sanctuary for the families who needed to unplug for a while. But all of that hinged on Dane, and that was a lot of pressure on a relationship with a man who probably wouldn’t be there much longer. Some dreams were never meant to be any more than that.
“You don’t hav’ta answer me. I see you’ve got somethin’ in your head,” Grandpa said, letting me off the hook. “Now, leave me to finish this up. You’ve better places to be than keepin’ watch over an old man.”
When I got to Bomber’s, Dane was sitting at the bar, a bottle of beer dangling between his fingers. We made eye contact through the mirror, which was when I knew something was off. He didn’t flash me the wicked smile I’d come to look forward to. If anything, he seemed to tense at my presence. I slid into the seat next to him and asked the bartender for a bottle of the same brew Dane was drinking.
“Everything okay?” I asked. His thigh stiffened when I slid a hand over his knee. Knowing he’d gone to lunch with James today to discuss the future of the inn, a pit formed in my stomach as my mind leaped to the implosion of my life. Dane might be sitting next to me, but it felt as if he was already long gone. It’d been stupid of me to think he’d walk away from his entire life up north for the wishes of a man he’d never known.
Dane tipped back his beer, still staring straight ahead. Setting the empty bottle on the bar, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. The bartender returned with my drink, and I pointed to Dane’s empty. With a quick nod, the bartender took the bottle and replaced it with a full one.
“Did you know James was planning to sell the inn?” Dane finally asked through gritted teeth.
“No,” I responded, even though the thought had crossed my mind. Leading up to the renovations, there were comments James made about how the inn would be an attractive property but only if it was given a facelift. When I’d tried to suggest we visit some other inns along the coast to see what they were doing to grow their businesses, he’d brushed me off. He wasn’t interested in the place being a draw for guests, or at least that was the impression I had.
“So when he admitted he encouraged you to get to know me, to have you show me around, he was lying?” Dane hung his head, muttering about what a fool he’d been. I reached out to him and he flinched away. “Just tell me the truth, Brook. Was I a pet project to you?”
“No! Never!” A few of the bar patrons gaped at my shrieked response. My chest tightened, because there was truth in James’s accusations, but I couldn’t allow Dane to think our time together had been a lie. Hell, for the first time in my life, I felt like I was living my truth. Dane did that for me.
But if there was any chance for us, I had to be completely honest with him and hope he’d understand. “Yes, James wanted me to show you around town. He never told me why, and I figured it was because we were close in age and I’ve lived here my entire life. Does it even make sense for him to coerce me into getting close to you if he was trying to manipulate you into agreeing to sell the inn?”
“That’s what I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out,” Dane admitted. “James is a stranger to me. Sure, we share some genetic material, but I don’t know him. Hell, until today, I thought his endgame was getting me to convince my dad to come down here and start over, but now everything’s been tossed around to the point I don’t know which way is up anymore. I should have known better than to assume he’d want his long-lost family
around. Life doesn’t work out that way.”
The bartender dropped off two menus in front of us, and I pushed mine away. No way could I even think about eating with the way my gut churned. I was torn between wanting to stay to convince Dane everything he felt happening between us was real, and wanting to sprint down to the inn to punch James for hurting the man I was falling in love with. What kept me on the barstool was that I wasn’t a fighter. Never had been. Knowing my luck, I’d take a swing at James and wind up on my ass, bruised because I fell into an inanimate object. And then I’d lose my job because I’d taken a swing at the owner. That left me with comforting Dane as my only option.
“I know it’s a minor consolation and you probably won’t believe me, but I do think your uncle wants to reconnect with your dad and get to know you. But he’s made some poor choices, and personally, I think that’s why he’s looking to sell the inn,” I told him.
Dane’s shoulders relaxed slightly, so I continued to tell him everything I’d seen over the past few months, mostly since Phillip had passed away. The strange visitors who left James in a foul mood. The hushed whispers on the phone before James slammed his office door closed. The distance he’d put between himself and any personal connection to the inn.
“You need to find a way to separate the business and reuniting with your family in your mind. James isn’t cunning enough to lure you down here just to fuck you over. He’s desperate and scared, and this is the only option he’s allowing himself to see.”
By the time I finished, Dane had placed a hand on my leg. “I hate that you know shit about my family and I don’t.”
“Maybe we were brought together so I could help you fix that,” I told him. Dane didn’t talk about it much, but I knew he was craving some sort of connection in this world. He’d changed in the short time since he’d arrived in Sunset Beach, and I had my suspicions as to why that was. I liked to think I was a small part of why he was more relaxed now, but every day, he focused less on how many days until he went home. He’d stopped referring to life in New York as his real life, as if this was some fantasy he was playing out. When he did talk about leaving, it was to be there for his dad, but he’d mentioned trying to help him settle down here.
