Chapter 2

Two

Gemma

“ S utton, let’s go! We’re going to be late!”

Standing at the base of the staircase, I check the time on my wrist, noting we have maybe ten minutes to leave before we really do risk being late.

“Hang on, Mom,” he calls out from his room upstairs. “I’m almost done. I’m just looking for a pair of socks.”

Ugh, what is it with ten-year-olds and their inability to keep track of their clean socks? “Hurry up,” I holler up to him one last time before I push off the banister and make my way to the kitchen.

Grabbing the laptop sitting on the counter, I shove it into the leather bag, double-checking to make sure I have my charger. Then do a quick look in the front pouch, confirming my pad of paper and pen are still in there. I don’t know why I bother checking that every single morning, when I know good and well I never take it out, but it’s part of my morning routine, and if there’s anything to know about me, it’s that I’m nothing if not a creature of habit.

I fish through the glass dish on my counter that holds my coffee pods while I wait for Sutton to get down here, plucking out a roasted hazelnut one and popping it into the Nespresso. Reaching up, I grab the sleeve of to-go cups off the top of my fridge, setting it under the nozzle on the machine before hitting start. In no time at all, the sweet, rich, nutty aroma fills the kitchen. At about the same time, the sound of footsteps trudging down the stairs reaches my ears, letting me know my son is finally ready.

He rounds the corner, backpack slung over one of his shoulders, hair a mess atop his head, and sleep lines still pressed across one side of his face from his pillow. “Morning,” he murmurs as he leans against the entryway to the kitchen.

“Morning,” I reply as I take him in. “Did you even brush your hair?”

Raking a hand through the strands, his brows scrunch as he says, “Yeah, why?”

I pin him with a look. “Because it doesn’t look like it.”

“I did!” he insists, a smirk tugging on his lips, letting me know that he probably did not. “Can’t I stay home by myself? I’m old enough.”

“You absolutely are not old enough,” I press, brow arched at him as he rolls his eyes. “Besides, you’ll have fun today. They’re doing an end-of-summer field day type thing, right?”

“Yes,” he grumbles.

“See, fun.”

Annoyance is written all over his face as he leaves the kitchen. “Are you ready? I’m going to be late.”

Topping the to-go cup with its lid, I laugh as I grab my purse and laptop case. “Oh, now he cares,” I tease.

The sun is already bright in the sky as I ease out of my driveway. I pull out my sunglasses from the center console and slide them on before cranking the dial on the AC because, while it may still be early in the morning, it’s still hot as hell outside.

After I drop Sutton off at the day camp facility, I head to the coffee shop that’s on the beach, where I plan to sit and write all day because I’m on a major deadline, and I got behind last week when he was sick with the stomach bug. Laura Beth, the morning barista, is setting up the patio tables as I pull into the spot directly in front of the coffee shop. She waves as she spots me.

With my purse and laptop case in tow, I climb out of the car before locking it. “Morning, Laura Beth. How’s it going?”

“Morning, Gem.” She smiles, placing a hand on her hip. “Things are good. Is Sutton feeling better?”

“Yes, he is, thank goodness. He was down for the count for three whole days. He finally started feeling a bit better Sunday. Thank you for the soup. Grace dropped it off to me Thursday evening on her way home from work. Sutton loved it. It was about the only thing he could stomach there for a while.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Waving me off like it’s no big deal, she adds, “It’s the recipe my mama makes whenever me and my sister get sick, and it always makes us feel better, so I figured it was worth a shot.”

“Well, thank you again,” I murmur. “Is it okay if I go in and grab a table?”

“Of course. I’ll be in there in a few minutes, once I’m done out here, and then I can ring you up.”

“No rush.”

I take one of the tables near the window so the sun can hit me. By the time I get out my laptop and set it up on the table, Laura Beth is back inside and behind the counter. After I order my second cup of coffee for the day—since I guzzled the one from the house on the way to drop Sutton off—and an Asiago bagel with cream cheese, I sit back at the table, pull out my laptop, put in my earbuds and turn on my white noise, and I get to work. The outside world easily fades away as my fingers fly over the keyboard, the story pouring out of me.

One of the things I love about working at this coffee shop is how effortless it is for me to concentrate. Yes, there’re customers coming and going, but there’s something about the relaxed atmosphere that allows me to really lose myself in my work. There are days when hours will pass without me even realizing it because I’m just that zoned in on the words being written on the screen.

I’ve been writing since I was a kid. My parents would get me journals that I would fill with the most outrageous stories. I’ve always loved it. It’s relaxing, and it’s fun getting to immerse myself in another world for a while. Live in a different reality for the duration of writing it. I’ve always had a vivid imagination, which is an excellent quality to have if you want to write fiction.

It was all just a hobby until I decided to publish my first novel about four years ago. Sutton was getting ready to start kindergarten, and I wanted something to fill my day. So, I started taking writing more seriously. It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Writing and my career are something that got me through some of the darkest moments of my life. It became my crutch. Something I could lean on when I didn’t know how to get out of bed some days. And writing became an outlet for some of my deepest thoughts and feelings. Writing saved me, and it’s what kept Sutton and I afloat in those early years after the accident.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, working, when somebody sits down in the chair across from me. Lifting my eyes off the screen, my gaze connects with a newly familiar face that I didn’t expect to run into. He says something, but I can’t hear him with the white noise on.

Taking out the earbuds, I set them on the table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” I say meekly, offering him what I hope is a friendly smile.

He returns the smile with a warm one of his own. “I said, funny running into you again.”

Truth be told, I figured it was only a matter of time before I ran into the handsome out-of-towner from the pier last week. Sutton was with my sister, Grace, that evening. They were baking goodies for his cousin’s birthday, so I took the opportunity to catch the sunset at the beach. Something I rarely get to do anymore, especially alone. I don’t know what compelled me to sit next to Everett that day. It’s not something I would normally do. I’m not unfriendly, by any means, but I usually don’t go out of my way to talk with strange men at dusk either.

Breathing out a laugh, I say, “Well, it is a small town. Not many places to hide, I suppose. ”

“That it is. I’m just waiting for my order,” he explains, gesturing toward the front counter. The way he looks at me makes my heart race in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. “How are you this morning?”

“Can’t complain,” I say with a shrug. “Just getting some much-needed work done while fueling my mind with copious amounts of caffeine.”

“Sounds about right.” He laughs, and I can’t help but notice how the lines around his beautiful blue eyes crease as he does, and how his smile is so wide, the start of a dimple tries to break through on his cheek, but just on the one side. He’s dressed in business casual, in a pair of dark chinos and a cream-colored short-sleeve button-down shirt. His dark hair is styled neatly, unlike the day we met, when it was wind brushed and a little all over the place.

Just like that day, I think how attractive he is. How something about him has me wanting to talk more with him, though I’m not sure why.

Laura Beth calls his name, indicating his order is ready. He looks from her to me. “Well, I guess I better let you get back to work and I should do the same.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” I say genuinely.

Standing up and stuffing his hands in his pockets, he offers me a curt nod. “You too, Gemma. I hope to see you again soon.”

How he sounds saying my name sends a shiver down my spine. As soon as he picks up his coffee and the white bag of food, he leaves, but not before glancing over at me one more time, a smile splitting his handsome face. Like I knew she would, Laura Beth rushes over and sits in the same seat Everett was just in, her elbow propped on the table, and her head rested in her palm. Her doe-eyed expression says it all, so I’m not surprised by what she says next.

“Girl, he is cute . He’s been in here a couple of times since last week, but before that, I’d never seen him before. How do you know him?”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Don’t get too excited, Laura Beth. It’s not that interesting.”

“I’m listening,” she chirps.

“Last Thursday, I went to the beach to watch the sunset while Sutton was baking with Grace, and he was there too. We got to talking, and it was kind of nice, honestly. That is, until Grace texted me, letting me know Sutton had just lost his dinner all over her kitchen floor.”

Laura Beth waggles her brows at me, and I laugh, rolling my eyes. She thinks every encounter is the next happily ever after—which should be my job, given I’m the romance author, but after everything that has happened in my life in the past few years, I tend to keep the love stories strictly fictional these days. I can’t help it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, attempting to be stern. “It was just a simple conversation and nothing more.”

“Mmhmm, whatever you say.”

Shooing her away, I say, “Goodbye, you have customers waiting.”

Rolling her eyes dramatically, she tosses me a smirk before getting up and walking toward the counter.

I put my earbuds back in and turn on the white noise, attempting to get back to work. As I expected, I have a harder time getting into the zone this time, thoughts of Everett flitting through my mind. He intrigues me for a reason I don’t quite understand. Maybe it’s simply because he’s new in town, and newcomers are always intriguing. Or maybe it’s how effortless and comfortable our conversation was on the pier. It could even be the way—since he is new in town—that he doesn’t know who I am, and doesn’t know my story, so he doesn’t look at me with pity like almost everybody else here does, even if it’s barely noticeable.

Okay, and if I’m being serious… maybe it’s also because he’s really cute.

Whatever the reason may be, he stays on my mind most of the day, but I’m still somehow able to get my work done before picking up Sutton from day camp. Everett had mentioned having to get to work himself… I wonder where work is for him. The answer to that will probably dictate how frequently we run into each other.

I guess time will tell.