Chapter 5

Five

Everett

A nother thing I’m learning that I love about small towns… people’s willingness to go above and beyond to help you out or share their knowledge with you.

As it turns out, my grandma’s house is in need of some home improvements. A new roof, updated flooring all throughout, and appliances. It’s… a lot. But I kind of expected as much when I made the decision to come here.

I went to the local appliance store this morning, looking to get an estimate for what everything is going to cost, and I started chatting with one of the employees there about my situation, and he provided me with the name and number for a local contractor. Apparently, he’s pretty well-known and reputable around here. After I got the quotes I was looking for, I called him from my car, and we’ve scheduled a meeting for Monday to go over my ideas.

It’s not exactly an item crossed off my mile long to- do list, but it’s a start. I was also able to get a great deal on the appliances since I was getting them all at the same time, so today is going pretty damn great if I do say so myself.

Pulling into my driveway, I climb out, and walk up toward my porch where there’s a black, fuzzy, curled-up cat waiting for me. As I ascend the steps, it pops its little head up, chirping at my presence. Stretching its arm out wide, it yawns, repositioning itself on the outdated patio chair that I need to replace.

“Well, hello,” I coo. “Who are you?”

The little black ball of fur meows at me, the sound broken and raspy, before yawning for a second time and standing. I hold out my hand, and the cat wastes no time brushing the side of its head up against it. I have no clue if it’s a girl or a boy, but whatever it is, it’s sure friendly. When I move to unlock the front door, it jumps down, clearly wanting to come inside.

Glancing down at the fluffy creature, I wonder if maybe it belonged to my grandma. However, it’s been three months since she passed away. That’s a long time for the cat to be without a home, and it doesn’t appear to be malnourished or too thin, so maybe not.

“Who do you belong to, sweetie?”

It meows again, pawing at the front door from between my legs.

“I don’t have any food,” I tell the cat like it can actually understand me. Hell, maybe it does, because as soon as I say that, it chirps again before darting down the stairs and across the yard. “Well, all right, then.”

After I unlock the door and set my things on the kitchen counter, I head back out to my car to grab the rest of the stuff I got from my trip to the grocery store. Just as I’m closing my trunk, a car pulls into my neighbor’s driveway.

Gemma. I still can’t believe she’s my new neighbor. What are the odds? She smiles and gives me a quick wave before putting her car in park. I return the gesture just as the back door opens and a boy climbs out.

“Who are you?” he asks, a quizzical look on his face.

“I’m Everett,” I tell him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sutton,” the boy says. “Are you our new neighbor?”

Gemma rounds the front of the car, coming to a stop beside him.

“Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you, Sutton.” My eyes flit over to Gemma. “Hello again.”

Her eyes twinkle as she smiles at me. “Hi, Everett.”

Her arm is full of bags, so it’s clear they just got home from the grocery store too. We must’ve just missed one another.

“Is this your son?” I ask curiously. The resemblance is uncanny; it’s kind of a stupid question.

A wide smile spreads on her face as she glances down at the kid who’s not much shorter than she is. The love in her gaze is evident. “He sure is.”

“You know the woman who lived here before you died?” he asks me, and I can’t help but laugh when Gemma’s eyes widen.

“Sutton!” she hisses. The whole mom thing is unexpected, but hot.

“What? She did!”

“I did know that,” I reply. “She was my grandma. ”

“Oh, shoot.” His face falls. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” I shrug. “It’s the circle of life.”

Without even missing a beat, Sutton suggests, “You should have dinner with us tonight. My mom is making homemade pizza.”

“Oh, Sut,” Gemma cuts in, suddenly looking flustered. It’s adorable. “I’m sure Everett’s got better things to do than eat dinner with us.”

“Actually, I don’t. That sounds delicious.” Looking to Gemma, I add, “If it’s all right with you.”

Her cheeks flush as she smiles and nods. “Of course, it’s all right. It’ll be ready in about an hour if you want to come on over.”

“Perfect. See you then.”

“Bye, Everett!” Sutton calls out as they disappear inside their house.

As I walk inside my own place, a sense of excitement simmers low in my stomach. Being in a new town and having a hundred things I need to get done, the last thing I should be doing is flirting with my new neighbor, but I can’t deny the pull I feel toward her, nor can I ignore the way it seems like the universe keeps putting us in the same place. Besides, I’m supposed to be starting fresh, I could use some fun. And a friend.

With some time to spare, I hop in the shower, needing one after running around all morning in the heat. It truly feels like an oven outside. The humidity is the one thing that I think is going to take the longest to get used to. It’s just so… stuffy.

Almost exactly an hour later, I’m standing on Gemma’s porch, bringing my fist up to her screen door. It’s Sutton who greets me, a wide smile on his face.

“You can come in,” he says, opening the door and stepping to the side.

“Thanks.”

The house smells incredible, my stomach grumbling the second I walk in. Music plays softly in the distance as I step out of my shoes, leaving them by the entryway. This house looks almost identical to the layout of mine, and as I follow Sutton through the hallway, I take in all the pictures hung on the walls. Pictures of Sutton all through his childhood, a lot with them together, or with other people. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re family. The genes must run strong because everyone looks similar.

Stepping into the kitchen, Gemma looks up from the sink, an apron with hearts all over it wrapped around her waist. A waist that I can’t help but drink in and imagine what it would be like to grab ahold of as I held her close to me.

“Hey,” she breathes, turning off the faucet and drying her hands with a towel. “Want something to drink? I’ve got Coke, sweet tea, water, or beer.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll take a Coke.”

“Do you like baseball?” Sutton asks.

“I do. I’m a big fan, actually.” Taking the can Gemma offers, I ask him, “You too?”

He nods. “Me too. Want to see my baseball card collection? Mom’s been helping me grow it the last year.”

“Sure, let’s see ’em.”

“Cool. Wanna sit on the couch? And I’ll run to my room and grab them! ”

“Sounds good.” I glance over at Gemma, finding her already watching me with an expression on her face I can’t quite place. A small smile tilts her lips as she meets my gaze. “When we’re done looking at the cards, I can help with whatever you need,” I offer.

She’s more dressed than the last time I saw her, but no less sexy. Her chest and forehead glisten with a sheen of sweat, probably from standing over the hot stove, her cheeks are slightly flushed, and the shorts and tank top she’s wearing hug her curves in a way that makes my blood heat.

“No need.” Waving me off, she says, “It’s almost done.”

“It smells great.”

We share a glance, and she smiles. “Thank you.”

Sitting on the couch, Sutton flips through his very extensive—and impressive—card collection. It’s much nicer than any collection I had when I was a kid.

“Do you play?” I ask him when he gets to the last page.

“Not on a team,” he replies, setting the notebook full of cards on the table. “My cousin and I play together, but we’re both trying out for a team next month.”

“That’s exciting. Think you’ll make it?”

“I hope so. Mom plays catch with me sometimes to help me get better, but she’s no good.”

Chuckling at how honest kids can be, I glance up when movement catches in my periphery. Gemma’s crossing her arms over her chest, narrowing her gaze at Sutton.

“I heard that, little man.”

His eyes flit between Gemma and me before landing on her. He looks apologetic as he says, “I love you, Mom, but you know I’m right.”

Gemma snorts, her whole face brightening as she takes in her son. “Okay, enough hating on Mom. Dinner is ready.”

Sutton and I follow Gemma into the kitchen, where we all dish up. The pizza looks incredible, and she made a salad and some breadsticks to go with it. I can’t even remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. I keep telling myself I’m going to be better at cooking for myself, and then it never happens.

“How are you enjoying Blossom Beach?” Gemma asks once we start eating. “Bet it’s a lot different than where you’re from.”

“Where are you from?” Sutton asks in between bites.

“From Seattle,” I tell him before directing my gaze to Gemma. “I’m enjoying it here so far, aside from the atrocious humidity.”

She laughs, taking a sip from her water. “It’s not that bad.”

“For you,” I say. “You’re from here, and your body is used to it.”

“True.” She shrugs. “Your body will acclimate soon, I’m sure. What’s your favorite place that you’ve been to so far?”

Unable to help myself, my lip curls up as I reply, “The pier.”

I watch her throat work as she swallows, a grin spreading on her face. “Oh, yeah? It is a pretty great pier.”

Nodding, I add, “It’s beautiful.”

Excitement unfurls low in my gut as I watch her cheeks pinken.

“The pier’s cool, but I like the beach better,” Sutton interjects. “The sand is fun to play in. ”

Gemma snorts, peeling her eyes away from mine to look over at her son. “The beach is pretty cool too, babe.”

After we finish eating, I stand and grab Gemma’s plate. “Let me do the dishes since you made the dinner.”

She rises from her chair. “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll take care of it. The dishwasher is broken, so I have to wash them by hand.”

My brows pinch as we enter the kitchen. “Do you know what’s wrong with it?”

“No. I keep meaning to call somebody to fix it, but work has been crazy lately, and I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

I set the plates in the sink, turning the water on. Glancing over at her, I hand her the towel resting on the counter. “I wash, you dry?” I suggest, a smirk tugging on my lips as she takes the towel from me.

Gemma grabs her phone off the counter, and a moment later, music starts playing softly like before. It’s some country song I’ve never heard of. Country typically isn’t my genre of choice, but seeing the mindless way Gemma sways as she dries the dishes I hand her and how she hums along to the lyrics has me wanting to hear more.

As I pass her the sheet she used to cook the pizza on, our eyes meet, and as if realizing what she’s doing, her cheeks pinken and she bites down on her bottom lip, stifling whatever smile is trying to come through.

Sometime after her and Sutton got home earlier, but before I came over for dinner, she threw her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. It’s messy, strands coming down to frame her face, and I can’t help noticing how soft yet sexy her features are. Dark brown eyes, big and round, sit atop full cheeks, her nose straight and narrow, slightly upturned at the tip, and her lips are the perfect amount of plump, with her bottom one slightly fuller than her top, giving her a natural pout when her face is resting.

I don’t know what it is about this woman, but I could stare at her all night long, and not get tired of seeing her. And the fact that we literally just met makes it even harder to understand.

What is it about her that I’m so drawn to?

Later on, after Sutton shows me more of his baseball collection, I say bye to him as Gemma walks me to the door. I might be imagining it, but I swear the air around us is tense… in a good way. Peering up at me, her hand on the doorknob, she says, “Thanks for coming over. You probably made Sutton’s day talking baseball cards with him.”

I hold her gaze for a moment, my heart pounding harder. “It’s my pleasure.”

Before I have a chance to leave, Sutton runs up, giving me one of his limited-edition cards. “I want you to have this one,” he says excitedly.

“Buddy, I can’t take this from you.”

“It’s one I have two of, and I want you to have it. You said you like that team.”

“It’s my favorite.” My chest squeezes.

“Now it’s yours!”

“Well, thank you, Sutton.”

It’s a baseball card. Getting choked up over being gifted a card is silly, but here we are. Sutton walks away, and I glance over at Gemma again.

“Oh, you’re his favorite person now,” she murmurs, her grin wide .

I return the smile, and for a moment, we just watch each other. I forget we’re standing at the open door, or that I’m supposed to be leaving. Her eyes on mine feel like a physical touch over my entire body.

After I get back home, I tuck the card away in a safe space, and spend the rest of the evening with Gemma’s smile at the forefront of my mind.