Turn Over(148)

“Ohh,” she sighed.

“I think I told you the first night we were together I wouldn’t stop until you begged me too.” I felt her squirm under me. “Well, not true. You can’t make me stop loving you.”

I nipped under her ear, feeling her come alive beneath me.

“Don’t stop loving me and I won’t stop loving you,” she breathed.

I kissed below her neck. “This is the best part.” I smiled.

“The makeup sex?” she suggested. Her hands had slipped free and she was running them up my back.

“Yes. Makeup sex. And then after that comes the ‘I love you’ sex.”

I had more to tell her. We could talk in the morning over coffee. Or in the shower. Or when we tried to figure out what in the hell we were going to do about the trailer park.

I’d tell her I was trying to track down Hailey. I would also have to let her know I was headed to Europe in two weeks for a look at a champagne vineyard. But I didn’t feel like I had to rush it. We had time. She was going to wake up in my arms. Nothing else mattered.





Epilogue





Mason




October



The water stung my ankles like tiny needles jabbing around the bone every time the surf rushed over my skin. My feet sloshed through the ripples. My toes sank deeper in the wet sand. I picked up a shell and skipped it across the breakers. It sank twenty feet from where I stood. What was it about this place?

It didn’t matter what I did, where I traveled, or how long I was gone; the island pulled me back like a relentless tide.

A gull swooped over a sandbar, diving head first between two swells.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, wiping the salt water off in the process.

A year ago I arrived here a bitter man. An angry man. I thought I was in control, but I wasn’t. The hurt was. It would be easier if I could label it as pain. But it wasn’t that alone. It was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation. Time had eased parts, but I knew it was a wound that would never truly heal.

I felt closer to him here. Whether that was a good thing, I still hadn’t decided. I finally was getting to know the parts of him I never met. The other life he had tucked away here between the dunes. Grey. Renee. The Palm Palace. This stretch of beach where he used to fish. I moved to the side when a strong wave pushed on shore. My charcoal pants were rolled a few cuffs above my ankles.

I felt the heaviness settle in my chest. The weight of the questions sinking from my head to my lungs. What was here wasn’t enough. I’d never talk to my dad at Pete’s while we sat at the wooden bar. I’d never understand why he chose to raise Grey and not me. I’d never know why he left my mom.

Instead I had pieces. Scraps and discarded bits like the shells under my feet. Broken wholes thrown on the beach with only half of their story visible.

I reached for another shell and watched it bounce twice when I threw it. I lowered my eyes to the water rushing around me.

I felt the warmth of delicate arms circle my waist and the heat of her body pressed against my back.

“What are you doing out here?” Her cheek flattened against my shoulder blade.

“Thought I’d take a walk before we leave.”

“I was almost afraid to bother you. You looked intense.”

I shook my head. “Just thinking.”

“Hmm.” She withdrew her arms, positioning herself in front of me. “It could only be one of a hundred possible things going on right now. Want to talk about it before I start guessing?”

I kissed her on the forehead. I loved her for asking. I loved her for loving me so much.

“Thinking about my dad. Letting the beach suck me in when I know better. Nothing is going to change.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” She smiled.

“Of course I do.”

“I don’t think it’s the beach’s fault. I think the trip has you worried.”

“What? No. That’s not it.”

She tilted her to the side, her eyes squinting from the sun. “How could it not? You’re worried what people will think or how you even fit into the equation. They’re going to ask uncomfortable questions. And I know you’re good with awkward—you can charm, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, but it flew free anyway. It reminded me of the first time I saw her at the Cove. She was irritated and lost, a beautiful woman trying to get her bearings. A woman whose view of the world changed mine almost instantly.

“And then there’s the toast,” she reminded me.

“Yeah, the toast. That one’s really got me up all night.” I laughed at the look in her eye.

“Don’t mock me, Mason. I’m the one person who knows how difficult the wedding is going to be for you.”