Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I should be willing a wave to wash the sand art away, but instead, I’m standing here like an idiot admiring it. Not because it’s particularly clever, but the idea behind it speaks to something deep inside me.
Cam says, “You really like her.” Not a question or a revelation. There’s no giddy laugh or teasing tone. Her softer joy is still seen in her expression, genuine in her care. She wants the best for Tealey, but I also know she wants what’s best for me as well.
“I do.”
Coming over, she bumps me with her hip. “You’re going to make me cry, Rad.”
“Why?”
“Happiness. For you and her.”
“I appreciate that, Cam.” Looking back in the direction of the house, I’m reminded of everyone being there, people I’d normally not care about sharing things with. But I can’t do that just yet when it’s Tealey I’m seeing. Especially not with the Marlow situation still unsettled. “Do you mind keeping this between us? Just give me a little time, give us that time. Tealey seems happy, so I don’t want it ruined before—”
“Before what?”
The question plagues me because I don’t have an easy answer. “Before I fuck it up.”
She throws the stick in the distance and nods. “Love is complicated, but don’t doubt what you know is right.”
“Love? That’s a little heavy-handed, Cammie.”
“I’ve waited more than seven years for this day. Don’t ruin it for me.”
Wry is an understatement when it comes to her grin. I ask, “Don’t ruin it for you?” I roll my eyes. “You’re not the only one who’s waited years.”
“I won’t tell the others.” She locks her lips with an imaginary key and then tosses it out to sea. “It will stay our secret.”
“Thanks.” Nodding down the beach, I ask, “Ready to head back?”
In a matter of weeks, I’ve become the master of deceit. I really need to turn things around. I need to talk to Tealey, and I need to talk to Marlow.
We pick up our shoes and cross the lawn. Cammie jogs onto the porch and plants her behind on Cade’s lap. I’m not sure where Marlow and my mom has disappeared to, but Jackson scrolls on his phone, oblivious to our return.
Tealey looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her—windblown hair, a strap slipped over her shoulder, and a look in her eyes that tells me she feels as happy as I do inside. She smiles, resting her head back on the rocking chair. “Good walk?”
Cammie’s phone rings. “Hello?” She plugs her ear and then stands. Pointing at the phone, she tells us, “Sorry. I need to take this. Wedding stuff.” She walks down the steps into the lawn again with Cade by her side.
“It was,” I say. “Insightful.” It still surprises me that she told Cammie about last night. I chuckle, remembering how I tried to sneak out of Tealey’s room this morning. I don’t feel betrayed. Instead, there’s a sense of certainty that she’s given me. If she told Cammie, that means no regrets are haunting her. I feel the same. No regrets.
“Walks with Cammie always are.” Tilting her head back, she closes her eyes and soaks up the sun. “She once told me that there’s someone for everyone. It’s only a matter of what you’re willing to compromise.”
“She thinks you should settle?”
She opens her eyes and smiles. “Compromise isn’t settling. It’s learning to live with the things you can and knowing what you can’t.”
Mugs with funny puns—punny—and sarcasm, some even tipping to the vulgar side, come to mind. And I don’t know when it happened or why, but a cabinet full of mismatched mugs doesn’t bother me anymore.
I find them quite endearing, like Tealey.
Does that make Cammie right about us? “I always knew you two were meant to be.” Are we meant to be, or is that just wishful thinking on Cammie’s part?
I like Tealey, but I still think we need to take one step at a time to allow us to sort through the details of our plans and how those plans might need to evolve.
Jackson sits forward. “I thought I’d get away without anyone noticing, but Nick’s texting.”
“Nick Christiansen, your brother-in-law?”
Holding the phone, he says, “We had an account go sideways a few months back. I got it back on track, but we’re left making amends to the client.”
“You don’t control the stock market,” I say.
“They sure think we do, though.” He stands and goes inside. Just over Tealey’s shoulder, I watch as he cuts across the great room and goes upstairs.
I shift my gaze back to the beauty in front of me. Taking her hand, I ask, “Is now a good time to talk?”
“I’m free. Where should we go?”
“Follow me.” I get up and hold the door for her. I lead her up the stairs and to my room.
“This doesn’t seem that private.”