Until Winter Breaks Page 19

  “I’m going to do the same carving on a surf board for the outside sign.” Jared pocketed his hands, his feet shuffling left-left-right in that nervous cadence of his.

  Millie bounced on the balls of her feet. “The floor is awesome. So pliable.” She bent down and pressed her palm into the padding. It gave, leaving the exact impression of her fingers that slowly expanded out. “She’ll think she’s at the spa.”

  The last addition Jared had made was an array of bubbles on the light blue walls. It felt like Millie was underwater, which felt perfect for a beachside taco stand.

  “When’s she coming home?” Millie asked.

  “Three weeks,” Jared said. “She’s planning to open Memorial Day weekend.”

  Millie nodded, casting an appreciative glance around the stand. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said, stepping closer to her.

  She giggled as his hands encircled her waist. “Look who’s being distracting now.”

  He threw his head back and filled the taco stand with his laughter. “Such a slave driver. All I have left to do is paint the outside and hang the surf board.”

  She tucked her hand into his back pocket. “Are you still thinking of doing the exterior yellow?”

  He thought for a moment. “With all those bright colors, which the surf board will have too, maybe something more like a natural color. Tan or brown or—”

  “Silver,” they said together. Millie’s heart sang with love for Jared, which scared her almost as much as it thrilled her.

  * * *

  That night, after they’d eaten grilled chicken for dinner, after they’d watched a romantic comedy, after they’d tangled together on the couch, after they’d said goodnight with breathless kisses, Millie stood in her closet.

  Her fingers drifted to Brady’s clothes—his collegiate sweatshirt, his Father’s Day tee, his basketball shorts. Jared had returned what he’d worn, and Millie had washed them and carefully folded them back into their rightful place in her closet.

  She picked up the stack of shorts, weighing the empty space they left behind. Setting the clothes on the bathroom counter, she returned to the closet and took the few remaining shirts off their hangers.

  She took a deep drag of the fabric, trying to find a hint of her late husband. He wasn’t there anymore. Time and laundry detergent had stolen his scent. She wished she could as easily erase her memories.

  In the end, she rehung the shirts and replaced the shorts where they belonged. As she switched off the light and left the closet, her heart felt like an anchor, keeping her tied to the past––to Brady.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jared skipped his morning ritual of body surfing and sipping orange blossom tea with Millie. In fact, he didn’t even sleep at Sophie’s. He’d moved in with Tripp over the course of the last week, slowly taking his clothes, shoes, toothbrush, and razor in the saddlebags of his motorcycle.

  He needed to tell Millie, but it hadn’t come up. He should just bring it up the way he did with working at The Sandy Tortilla or going deep-sea fishing. He didn’t seem to have a problem telling her about those things. He didn’t know why him moving out of Sophie’s house and in with Tripp was such a big deal.

  Actually, he did. He was making a commitment to Redwood Bay, to living here, working here, settling here. And it felt huge and wide and all-encompassing. He needed time to process it alone before he shared it with her.

  Headed out, he texted her, though she was a good hour from waking. See you Friday night.

  The trawler would be out of cell phone range by the time she got his messages and could respond. He wouldn’t be able to get in touch with her for days, so with a deep breath and quick thumbs, he sent, I have something important to tell you about where I’m going to live once Sophie comes back. Don’t worry. It’s in Redwood Bay.

  He added a smiley emoticon and pocketed his phone as Tripp fired up the engines and untied the trawler from the dock.

  “Here we go,” he said.

  Jared echoed him as he set his sights on the black, undulating water before him. A well of peace bubbled up inside him, the pieces of his life finally clicking into place where he wanted them.

  By Wednesday afternoon, the GPS radar was pinging like crazy. “There they are, boss,” Jared called as he made a note on the charts he and Tripp had been keeping over the past few weeks. “Right where you said they’d be.”

  The school of halibut was huge, and with the boys booked for the first week of June, they’d be in the legal timeframe to catch them. Jared colored the area on the map, and muted the blaring radar.

  “We’ll have this trip mapped out this time,” Tripp said, joining Jared outside the control room. “Shouldn’t have to go out again unless you want fresh fish for dinner.”

  “I’ll buy from Hilary,” Jared said, glancing up. “I like sailing, but fishing isn’t really my thing.”

  “You wound me, cousin.” Tripp collected a pole from just inside the door and whistling, headed down to the deck. “I’ll catch supper then.”

  Jared finished his notes and retreated to his bunk. He wasn’t tired—the ocean waves lulled him to sleep like a mother’s lullaby. He wasn’t bored—he could whale watch, chat with Tripp, or search for fish for hours.

  No, Jared wanted to be alone because he missed Millie. Spending time with anyone but her didn’t feel important. Worthwhile, yes. He needed and wanted to repair and maintain the relationships he had broken with his family.

  He fiddled with his phone, though he couldn’t receive messages. He just wanted to hear her voice, see her face. He pulled up a picture he’d taken of her a week ago, internally sighing at the sight of her sassy new haircut, her laughing brown eyes, her kissable lips.

  Her.

  He sat up, his stomach suddenly squeezing and his heart rippling. He’d been falling in this direction for weeks. Probably since the day he’d arrived in Redwood Bay and met Millie.

  He was in love. Felt it. Knew it. Vocalized it.

  He couldn’t stop smiling.

  * * *

  While Jared was gone, Millie sewed and sewed and sewed. And then she sewed some more. The wedding dress didn’t need to be ready for the first fitting until the following Wednesday, but she didn’t want to pull extra hours over the weekend. Hours Jared didn’t have to work and would be home.

  The chime on her front door sounded, and because it was after hours and she’d made arrangements to meet Diana, she yelled, “Back here.”

  Her friend appeared a few seconds later carrying a to-go cup of coffee. “Cinnamon cappuccino.” She handed it to Millie, who wrapped her aching fingers around the heat of the cup.

  “Thank you,” she sighed. “My fingers are killing me.” She took a sip of the liquid caffeine and reached for the tube of relief cream with a blend of essential oils to help reduce swelling and numb the pain. She’d been applying it every couple of hours. She rubbed the wintergreen-smelling cream into her hands, almost crying with relief when her fingers started to tingle and relax.

  “So any more speculating as to what Jared’s text means?” Diana watched her with caring eyes.

  “No.” Millie popped the top on her coffee cup and swirled the contents. “He’s staying in Redwood Bay. That’s enough.”

  “You like having him right next door,” Diana said. “Admit it.”

  Millie couldn’t help the curve of her lips. She wanted him right next door, or better yet, just in the next room, maybe brushing his teeth while she slipped beneath the sheets.

  “It’s been nice having a neighbor,” Millie said, her voice just a tad breathless because of her thoughts. “But Sophie will be back soon, so at least I won’t be alone on that street for long.”

  “Oh, honey.” Diana’s embrace felt like home. “You’re not alone.”

  For the first time since Brady’s death, Millie believed those words. No matter that Desi had said them to her. Her parents. Sadie and Diana. Millie had never been inside
the glass, a participant in the party.

  She hugged Diana back. “I know,” she said. “I know.”

  * * *

  Friday after work, Millie dug her spoon into her last carton of Cherry Garcia, her ears attuned to the rumble of a motorcycle engine, her eyes scanning the street every few seconds. Seeing Sophie’s house so dark and feeling its emptiness wash over her these past four days had been especially difficult after Jared’s mysterious texts.

  Millie had used Sophie’s key and gone next door. The house was abandoned. Jared’s clothes weren’t in the dresser in the spare bedroom; his toiletries were gone; the bathroom counter scrubbed clean with the smell of antiseptic left behind.

  She’d opened the fridge to find only bottled water and a box of baking soda. Jared had paid attention to every detail, down to the vacuum lines in the carpet and the vibrant card addressed to Sophie sitting on the kitchen counter.

  Millie had left the house with a heart full of lead. She’d speculated with Sadie and Diana about where Jared would live, and why he’d moved without telling her. She’d stewed and wondered and even ached for the answers.

  She hadn’t turned to ice cream until now, when she expected Jared to arrive. She hoped he had his explanations ready.

  Dusk settled over the ocean, the sun taking long minutes to sink now that it was May. Her grandfather clock on the other side of the window chimed nine times, and still no motorcycle noises neared.

  Millie’s heartbeat stuttered, then steadied. He didn’t even live next door anymore. He might not even come see her the very night he returned. He’d probably call or text though, and Millie checked her phone to ensure it was on and charged. It was.

  The carton of Cherry Garcia sat empty on the porch and the stars twinkled overhead when the first growlings of a motorcycle could be heard. Millie jerked her head toward the mouth of the street, where, sure enough, a glow of a headlight turned her way.

  Jared pulled into her driveway, dismounted, and caught Millie around the waist as she ran across the lawn, full of giggles and relief.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him. “You’re back.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t come back?” He teased his tongue along her top lip, sending a pulse through her that had nothing to do with a heartbeat.

  “A little, yes.” She pressed her forehead to his, inhaling his cool aftershave and imagining him cleaning up before he came to see her. “Your place is empty. You’ve already moved out.”

  He set her down gently but kept his hands wrapped around her waist. “Did you go snooping next door?” He glanced around like he was looking for something. “Where’s the key to Sophie’s place? I don’t think I can trust you with it.”

  For one pump of her heart, she thought him serious. When she saw the smirk riding his lips just before he kissed her, she relaxed. “I wanted to tell you,” he whispered between kisses. “But I was waiting for the right time, when you wouldn’t get freaked out, and I had more information.”

  “Get freaked out about what?” Millie could barely think, what with the way his warm hands slid over her shoulder.

  “I struck a deal with Tripp.”

  “A deal?”

  “It’s embarrassing.” Jared kissed her so completely she almost forgot about the spic-and-span house next door.

  She pulled away with difficulty. “I’ve eaten a whole carton of ice cream today because of your text. So start talking.”

  He fisted his fingers in her short bob and kissed her again. “But kissing is so much more fun.”

  And oh, it was. The only reason Millie didn’t lose herself to his heated ministrations was because of the cold dairy product filling her stomach.

  “Jared,” she murmured. “Please.”

  He put a breath of space between them. “The deal is I have to do all the grocery shopping, meal planning, and cooking. I also take care of the yard. I moved into Tripp’s spare bedroom, which is connected to a bathroom and then a den. It’s like my own little bachelor pad. Private, spacious, and free.”

  Millie looked into his eyes, illuminated from the light on her porch. “And that was so hard to tell me, because…?”

  “Because, sweetheart, I didn’t want to leave you here on this street alone.” He nuzzled her neck and breathed in the scent of her skin in such a way that made her feel like the most cherished woman in the world.

  “I don’t want to leave you at all, Millie.” He brought his body flush against hers. “It was hard to tell you that I was moving across town because I’m in love with you.”

  Shock, pleasure, surprise, and desire squirreled through her. A laugh escaped her lips.

  “Oh, so it’s funny?” Jared teased, his fingers slipping under her shirt and tickling up her ribs.

  She released a peal of laughter. Though she writhed and struggled to get away, he held her tight in his strong arms. She never wanted him to let go, and he seemed to hear her thoughts, because the atmosphere between them sobered.

  “I’m dead serious here, Mills.”

  She stilled in his arms, their gazes locked.

  “I love you,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting into a joyful smile. “And I need to—I can’t be living in my sister’s house. I’ve got to have my own place, a good job, be a real man. For you.” He hugged her close. “Tell me you understand.”

  Millie barely had the strength to hold onto him. Equal parts pain and joy jolted her heart into a rapid rhythm. She adored this man, who loved her when she thought she’d never have the luxury of such things again.

  But one corner of her heart was still anchored to Brady, and that bleeding, beating bit wouldn’t allow her to return those three words. Instead, she said three different ones.

  “I understand, Jared.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jared appreciated the strength in Millie’s voice, but he’d also heard the hesitation. She didn’t say she loved him, and he didn’t need her to. Not yet. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they cuddled in her porch swing, coaching himself to give her every minute she needed.

  “You want to come see my place in the morning?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said. “You want to come see the wedding dress I have ready for a fitting?”

  Surprise squeezed his insides the same way his fingers clutched her shoulder. “You finished an entire wedding dress in four days?”

  “It’s not finished,” she said. “It’s ready for the fitting, which means the bride will come put it on so we can check to make sure I’ve got the measurements right, that the bodice doesn’t gape or whatever.”

  “Still,” Jared said, beyond impressed. “I guess I better go.” He waited a few healthy seconds for her to protest, to invite him to stay, but she didn’t. He stood, and she let him. He leaned over and kissed her, felt the absolute passion between them, walked toward the stairs.

  “Pick me up at ten?” she asked as he reached the outer edge of the porch light.

  “See you in the morning, sweetheart.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Jared fought the urge to go body surfing at Millie’s beach, head up to Sophie’s for a quick rinse, and then sip tea with the woman he loved. She hadn’t invited him. Hadn’t asked what would happen to their morning routine. Hadn’t finished her transformation yet.

  He’d promised her time, and he intended to give it to her. He’d hoped that, in the past month since she’d told him about Brady, if he spent enough time with her and provided her with multiple opportunities to make new, happier memories with him that she’d heal faster.

  He should’ve known better. She was the one who said people didn’t change just because he wanted them to. He couldn’t rush her recovery process simply by kissing her more deeply, spending hours with her at her shop, her house, the taco stand, or even by telling her he loved her.

  She had to let go of her past, and he knew he couldn’t rush her.

  Jared exhaled as he left his private den and entered the
living room. Tripp lounged on the couch, a bottle of soda loosely held in one hand. “Does your hot tub work?” he asked.

  “Not set up yet.”

  “I can do it,” Jared volunteered. He needed something to pass the hours until ten, when he’d arrive fashionably late to pick up Millie and tell her he loved her. Over and over, he’d tell her until she was ready to return the sentiment.

  She didn’t say it when he arrived on her doorstep or even after she kissed him and acted as if she’d rather do that than anything else.

  He took her to the taco stand, where he slathered paint on the outside planks. Millie lounged on the table with the green cover and teal umbrella. He kept his focus on swiping silver left and right, left and right. With Sophie due home in just a couple of weeks, he needed The Sandy Tortilla ready for business.

  “I’m hungry,” Millie said as he finished the last side of the stand, the one in the shade.

  “This needs to dry,” he said. “Then I can hang the surf board, and it’ll be ready for my sister.” He gave Millie an easy smile and tucked her into his side.

  She playfully pushed him away. “You’re sweaty.”

  “We don’t all get to relax in the shade, sweetheart.” He kicked up a corner of his mouth so she’d know he was teasing. “Works up quite an appetite. Let’s grab some lunch. I can show you around Tripp’s place while we’re at it.”

  She piled supplies into a paint tray and helped him carry everything up the beach toward Tripp’s truck. “I forgot you’re a private chef now.”

  “Stop it,” he said, swiping a wet paintbrush across her bicep.

  She shrieked, stared at him with wide eyes filled with desire, and dropped all the supplies except for the paint roller, which she wielded like a weapon.

  “Don’t you dare,” he said, backing up a step. “I have a limited wardrobe.”