Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Cherry

I feel like I owe him.

I know that Zeke would roll his eyes at that and probably tell me not to think twice about it, but the man helped me for hours and hours over the weekend to get those candles finished and shipped out. He refused to leave until everything was done, boxed, labeled, and then cleaned up.

He worked his butt off, right beside me.

And I have to admit, I had a great time, which was a huge surprise because this is Zeke we’re talking about.

Except, he doesn’t drive me bonkers like he used to. In fact, he hardly makes me want to smother him with a pillow at all anymore.

Instead, I’d rather hold on tightly to that pillow while he does all kinds of delicious things to my body. And he doesn’t seem to want to stop doing that anytime soon.

Thank all the gods and goddesses.

Still, I wanted to do something nice to thank Zeke for all his hard work and help, so here I am at Wolfe’s Garage at closing time, showing up to surprise him.

When I walk into the garage, classic rock ‘n’ roll pounds out of the speakers, and a pair of legs sticks out of the underside of a truck, a toe tapping the air to the beat of the song.

There doesn’t seem to be anyone else here, so I walk over to the legs, squat down, and bend like a pretzel to look under the truck to see who I’m interrupting.

It’s Zeke.

The music is so loud, and he’s so absorbed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t see me.

“Boo!”

He jumps, hits his head on the underside of the truck, and then quickly rolls out from under it, rubbing his forehead and scowling at me.

I’ve fallen back on my ass, laughing like a damn loon.

“You can’t just sneak up on a guy like that.” He’s still rubbing the spot. “Siri, stop the music.”

We’re suddenly cast in complete silence, aside from my laughter.

“I’m sorry, but that music was so loud, you wouldn’t have heard me if I knocked or something.”

“Have you ever heard of a phone?”

“Here.” I scoot to him and move his hand out of the way so I can rub his forehead. “I’m sorry you hurt yourself. Do you have a concussion?”

“No, just a bump.”

I boost up onto my knees so I can kiss the small red spot. He wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me into his lap, still sitting on the rolly thing, and plants his lips on mine for a long, hard kiss.

“Feel better?” I ask when I come up for air.

“Somewhat. To what do I owe this visit? Or did you just stop by to try to decapitate me?”

“You’re so dramatic. It’s closing time, and I have a surprise for you.”

He lifts an eyebrow in interest. “Really? What is it?”

“Finish up what you’re doing here so I can show you.”

He kisses my cheek, moves me off his lap so he can stand, then pulls me onto my feet with him. It only takes him about ten minutes to get everything put away and closed down for the night, and then we walk out to my car.

“To thank you for all your hard work over the weekend, I’m taking you on a picnic.”

“I’m starving. ”

“Good, because I have a ton of food. Get in.”

The drive to the beach access I want to take Zeke to isn’t far from the garage, and soon I’ve parked and have the back hatch open to retrieve the picnic basket I loaded down.

Zeke takes it from me and frowns. “This is fucking heavy.”

“I told you, I brought a lot of food.”

Rather than hit the button to close the hatch, I reach up to do it manually and carry the blanket I brought for us to sit on.

“I know we have beach access at the condos,” I begin as we descend the stairs to the sand below, “but it’s nice to shake things up sometimes.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

When we’re settled with the blanket spread out and the basket open, we just sit for a minute to take in the view of the water and the amazingly calm breeze.

“You’d never know it was November today.” I pull some cheese out of the basket. “It feels like early fall, so I figured we’d take advantage of it. Although, there is a slight nip of chill on the air.”

“I like it,” he says with a shrug. “My dad was stationed in really hot places quite a bit, so I like the cooler weather.”

“Your dad was military?”

I have a plate of meats and cheeses, along with olives, pickled veggies, crackers, and spreads, and we begin digging into the food.

“Army,” Zeke confirms around a bite of salami. “Career Army. He was a lieutenant colonel when he retired and was well-liked and respected.”

“Was he strict?”

“Oh, yeah. But not in a mean or heavy-handed way. I just always knew what he expected of me and didn’t really put up much of a fight because he was gone a lot, and it was just me and my mom. My mom is kick-ass, so doing my share around the house never bothered me.”

“Are you still close to them?” I love hearing about Zeke’s childhood and his relationship with his parents.

“Sure. We talk about once a week. I’m trying to convince them to come here for the holidays, but we’ll see. Mom’s afraid to fly, and they’ve been living in Virginia since Dad retired.”

“That would be a long drive,” I agree with a nod.

“What about you?”

“I don’t mind flying.”

He grins and reaches out to playfully tug on a piece of my hair.

“Are you close to your parents?”

I pop a sprig of pickled asparagus into my mouth, thinking about my answer. “I love them, sure. Am I close to them? Not really. Though not in a bad way. I just don’t see them often.”

“Where do they live?”

“Here in town.” He lifts an eyebrow, and I shrug in response. “It was a…different kind of childhood.”

“In what way?”

I blow out a breath and watch the water roll and churn with the waves beating on the sand. When I was young, I sometimes thought I was the sand, and life was those waves, because it always felt like I could never catch a break.

“Okay, so, I’m not looking for sympathy here. This is just how it was.”

“Got it.” He nods, listening.

“My family was really poor. Like, really poor. My parents were never going to send me to college, buy me my first car, or help me get my first house. They couldn’t pay for their own life, let alone even think about helping me with mine. Which is totally fine. I don’t need the help, I’m just explaining.”

“I understand,” he says, still nodding and chewing.

“They never tried to hide the fact that they were broke to me. I knew when the electricity went out, it likely wasn’t because of a storm, it was because they couldn’t pay the bill. We used food banks and pantries, and I never had new clothes. In fact, shopping for new school clothes meant making a trip to the thrift store. But my mom always tried to sew what we bought in different ways so that it was new for me . Does that make sense?”

“Sure.”

There’s no judgment at all on his face, no censure or disgust, and I feel perfectly safe confiding in him.

“One time, when I was in the fifth grade, I went to school, and a little girl who doesn’t live here anymore pointed at my new-to-me shirt and said, ‘That was mine!’ I was so fucking embarrassed. I went home crying, and my mom swore she’d do better to make the clothes look different. She was great with a sewing machine. Anyway, we depended on the goodwill of others a lot.”

“Were your parents unable to work?”

“They worked, but I think they were in this horrible cycle of not making much money, and something always came up. The car would break down, or taxes would come due. Always something. I can’t even tell you how many times we had to move in the middle of the night because they couldn’t pay the rent, and we had to skip out on the landlords.”

“That must be hard to do in Huckleberry Bay. It’s a tiny town.”

“For sure. I think people knew their circumstances and didn’t try very hard to get their money out of them. Maybe because they had me, I don’t know. And I also have to say, my parents are good people. They never hurt me, neglected me, or abused me. I felt loved, and we laughed a lot. But it also instilled in me some anxiety about being poor. I will not live like that ever again, so I’m pretty frugal. Montana says I’m an old lady about a lot of things, but—”

“But you had to be the adult,” he finishes for me.

“Yeah. I got a job when I was fourteen, and I’ve worked ever since. That helped my parents a lot because I was able to pay some of the bills.”

Now, his jaw hardens. “You paid the bills as a teenager?”

“Some of them. We didn’t lose electricity again or have to move in the middle of the night. So, I was happy to do it.”

Now that we’re finished eating, I pack up the empty plates and used napkins and close the basket.

“I guess that was a really long-winded way to answer your question. I don’t have any ill will toward my parents, but they’re still stuck in that same rut of poverty, and I just can’t do it. I can’t live like that, and I can’t watch them do it either because they spend money poorly and make bad life choices.”

“Do they ask you for money? Now that you’re an adult?”

“They used to. When I first moved out of the house, they thought I’d continue paying the bills that I paid when I lived with them. But I couldn’t because I had my own bills to pay. I had to set some hard boundaries and splurged on some therapy to help me out in that area.”

“I don’t think that was a splurge. I think it was a necessity.”

I nod in agreement. “You’re right. We love each other, and I’m always happy when I run into them, but we don’t seek each other out like other families do. I think it makes them uncomfortable.”

“And that’s why you need the stability.”

“That’s why.”

Zeke reaches out and takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “Thanks for sharing all of that with me.”

“Ready to run for the hills?”

“Not even close.” He leans in and kisses me softly. “I have a request. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’d like to invite you out on a date.”

“We’re on a date.”

“A different date,” he says with a grin. “There’s a gala happening for the Huckleberry Bay Chamber of Commerce, and because I’m a business owner, I’m supposed to go. I wasn’t going to, but now that I have a hot date, it might be fun.”

I know that gala. The city has been putting it on for as long as I can remember, and I never thought in a million years I’d be asked to go.

“When is it?”

“Next weekend.”

I feel my eyes go wide.

“If you don’t want to go—”

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t have anything to wear. But Montana might have something she can loan me. She’s gone before.”

“Is that a yes?”

I smile over at him. “You sure you want to be seen with me in public since all we’ve done before is fight in front of everyone?”

“It’ll just be proof of my charming ways that I got you to come around.”

The laugh that spills out of me is loud and full of humor. “Right. That’s it for sure. What the hell, I’ll go with you.”

“Good. Now, let’s take a walk on this beach.”

“Let’s go.”

* * * *

“I need your help.”

Montana looks up from the ice cream counter where she’s taking notes on a pad, and her eyes widen.

“Are you okay? Are you running from the law?”

That makes me stop short. “Jesus, no.”

“Just making sure I don’t have to drive the getaway car or something. Okay, what’s up?”

“You know the chamber of commerce gala next week?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going.”

Now, she just blinks at me in surprise. “With whom? I asked you to go as my date and you turned me down.”

“Don’t get whiny. Zeke asked me.”

More blinking.

“I thought you hated Zeke and the ground he walks on.”

“Well.” I cringe and move from one foot to the other. “I did. But we’ve started sleeping together and—”

“WHAT?” Montana flails her arms in the air, stopping me. “Hold up, Cherry Pomegranate Dubois.”

“I hate my middle name.”

“Back that shit right up, right now. You know what? Hold on.”

Montana stomps to the front door and locks it, flipping the open sign to closed, then marches back over to me, takes my hand, and drags me to a nearby table, forcing me into a chair.

“I’ve been your best friend since the third grade.”

“True.”

“And now you’re fucking a hot mechanic, and you didn’t think that was information you should share with your life-long bestie?”

“Don’t be mad.” I sigh and sit back in the chair. “It happened really, really fast.”

“Uh, yeah. Because at the Halloween party, you hated each other.”

My lips twitch. “It all started later that night, actually.”

Montana listens intently as I run through everything from the first cold shower to earlier on the beach. When I’ve finished, she simply stares at me.

“Say something.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

I roll my eyes at her. “Stop it. I’m just having some fun with him, that’s all. And I have to take a shower and wash my clothes somewhere. He was nice enough to offer to help me.”

“Uh-huh. I mean, you could put up with some bad sex in exchange for hot water privileges.”

“Ew. We’re not trading services , Monty. Gross.”

“You like him .” She stabs a finger in my direction. “Admit it.”

“I like him.” I sigh and scrub my hands over my face. “Like, really like him, and that shocks me more than anybody else. Also? He’s started turning his music off early, and he doesn’t park like an asshole anymore. It’s like he’s trying to stay on my good side.”

Now, Montana busts up laughing. “Well, duh. He wants to continue getting in your pants. He’s not going to try to piss you off.”

“I like him,” I repeat.

“Why does that make you look sad?”

“Because it’s been my experience that when I like a guy, they end up disappointing me. But I guess I’ll just ride the wave until it ends, right?”

“You’re such an optimist.”

“But am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

“Back to my original question. Do you have something I can wear? You’ve been going to this thing for a long time.”

“Of course, I do. In fact, I have a black number that will make Zeke weep tears of mercy.”

“Good. Let’s go with that one.”