The Last One(92)

He winked at me. “One, I have a wife. Two, I have a son.” His face grew serious, and he added, “And I almost screwed that all up. Every single day of my life, I’m grateful that Lindsay gave me a second chance, after I left her alone and pregnant.”

“You didn’t know she was,” I reminded him.

“No, but that’s not an excuse. Everything could’ve been bad, and it would’ve been no one’s fault but mine. Instead, I have a beautiful wife, the cutest son in the world, and a life that I absolutely love. So I may not be smart about a lot of things, but I know one thing. Love doesn’t always give you more than one chance to get it right. You’ve got to grab it and hold on tight.” He looked over my shoulder. “Okay, Sadie’s in the window, glowering. Must be getting busy in there.” He leaned over and dropped a kiss on my head. “Want me to bring you anything?”

“No, thanks.” I shook my head. “I think I’ll go lay on the sand for a little bit. Maybe go in the water. See what this vacation business is all about.”

Joseph laughed. “Okay, sis. Have fun.”

I picked up my beach bag and went down the three steps that led from the deck to the beach. The sand was hot, and I ran toward the water to cool off my feet. The ocean was just the right temperature this time of year: not too cold to swim, and not too hot to enjoy it after being in the sun.

I played in the waves for a few minutes, going in as far as my hips. My first week in the Cove had flown by in a flurry of family get-togethers and catching up with everyone in town. I realized that while I hadn’t been lying to Sam about not having friends from high school here, I did have a town full of people who loved me, who cared about how I was doing. It had been fun to hear about everything that had happened this summer and plans for the rest of the year, and to tell them all about teaching in Burton and how much I’d loved it.

I hadn’t heard anything from Sam. Not that I’d expected to. I’d sent Ali a text telling her I was home, and she’d responded by telling me that they all missed me already. That had been it. And maybe it was better this way, making a clean break from everyone once and for all.

After floating for a few minutes, I let the surf carry me back to the shore. Shaking water from my hair, I twisted it up and clipped it off my neck, then dried off with the towel I’d laid out in the sun. When I’d stopped dripping, I spread the towel again and laid down on my stomach, letting the sun bake my back.

I was nearly dozing when I felt the cool of a shadow blocking the sun from my legs. I stayed still, hoping whoever was standing next to me would go away.

“So this is the beach.”

I scrambled to sit up, trying to get my Wayfarers back in place over my eyes so I could squint into the brightness.

“Sam?” If Santa Claus himself had appeared on the Crystal Cove beach, I wouldn’t have been more shocked, but there he stood.

He was wearing shorts, something I’d never seen him in before. They had that crisp, new look, as though he’d just bought them. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring down at me, the same serious expression on his face that I’d grown to love so much.

“Hey, Meghan.” He crouched next to me. “Can I share your towel? Ali made me go out and buy shorts and flip-flops, but she didn’t think to get me a beach towel.”

“Oh—uh, yeah, of course.” I moved over, and he sat down next to me, his scent filling my head as his hip bumped against mine.

“This is pretty.” He gestured over the ocean and the sand. “I can see why you love it here. I wouldn’t want to leave, either.”

I licked my lips, nervous. “It’s a place, Sam. I love the people here, and yeah, it’s beautiful, but then so is Georgia. Especially certain parts of Georgia.”

“Yeah.” I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “And sometimes even the most beautiful places don’t mean much without the right people there.”

I nodded. “Did you drive all the way to Crystal Cove to discuss scenery, Sam? Or was there something else you had in mind?”

He looked down at me and with one finger, dragged my sunglasses down my nose. “I can’t talk to you while I can’t see your eyes, Meghan.”

I tilted my head. “How come?”

He smiled, and the finger moved from my glasses to my cheek. “Because your eyes tell me everything I need to know. If I’m smart enough to look.”

“So what are they telling you now?”

The smile faded from his face. “That you’re sad. That maybe you’re a little wary about why I’m here.”