Chapter 6

Six

Gemma

“ O h, Beau and Sutton are in the same class,” Grace murmurs as we walk down the hall. “How fun.”

“Windward,” I read off the name on the paper in my hands. “I don’t recognize that teacher. Do you?”

My sister shakes her head. “No, but I heard Mrs. Taylor had to leave the district last minute, so I knew they were probably bringing on a new teacher.”

“Is Ethan working?” I ask, referencing Beau and Blakely’s dad, and Grace’s ex-husband.

“Yeah, he gets back into town in the morning.”

“Mom, it’s right here!” my niece, Blakely, calls out as the kids round the corner.

It’s Meet the Teacher night at their school, and it’s a pain in my ass. I understand why they host the event, so the kids and parents can meet the teacher before the start of school, but every year, it’s a shitshow. There’s entirely too many people walking the halls of the school, and when you meet the teacher, it’s only, like, a two-minute thing, if that. I dread it, which is probably awful to say as a parent, but it’s true. And I can’t imagine it’s any more fun for the teachers either. Their nervous systems are probably fried by the end of the evening.

The five of us head into the classroom that will be Blakely’s for this school year, and I stand off to the side with Beau and Sutton as Blakely and Grace chat with her new teacher. Ms. Kennewick has been with the school for years. She used to teach kindergarten back when Beau and Sutton were that young. It’s nice having kids around the same age with my sister because it allows us to do these things together. When Dylan, Sutton’s dad, died, the idea of handling all the parental responsibilities on my own was overwhelming, to say the least.

It was comforting to have Grace. In our own way, it’s like we co-parent, leaning on each other whenever we need a breather. Our family is also a huge help, but having somebody, like Grace, who is experiencing the same things I am, helps. Grace’s situation is different from mine, as far as her kids’ dad goes, but she is still a single mom like I am with her own set of struggles.

“Auntie Gem,” Beau whispers up at me. “Can we get ice cream when we’re done here?”

“I’m sure we can, bud, but we have to eat dinner first.”

His eyes brighten as a smile spreads on his face. “Yesss!”

Grace and Blakely finish meeting her teacher, and we all leave the classroom in search of Sutton and Beau’s room. The boys run ahead of us, dipping into the classroom before we can reach it, and a moment later, Sutton zips back out with a smile on his face.

“Mom, you’re never going to believe who’s in there!”

“Who?”

“Everett!”

My heart beats heavy in my chest hearing that name, but confusion furrows my brow. “He is?”

As far as I could tell, he doesn’t have any kids.

Rounding the corner, the classroom comes into view, and sure enough, our new next-door neighbor is standing in the middle of the room, chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Reese. Dressed in a pair of navy-blue slacks and a white button-down, he looks relaxed with one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other gesturing toward the row of tables behind the parents.

Holy shit. He’s the teacher.

He’s Windward.

“Oh my god,” I hiss quietly, turning toward my sister. “That’s our new neighbor.”

Amusement paints her face as she glances over at me. “The one Sutton invited over for dinner?”

“Yup.”

“Girl, you didn’t mention how cute he was,” she whispers, quiet enough that the kids can’t hear. My body flushes, and I can feel my cheeks heat.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I lie.

“Mmhmm, suuuure, you didn’t.”

Just then, Everett looks up, turning his ocean gaze in our direction until our eyes collide. Tilting his head to the side, a smile tugs on his lips. He lifts his hand in a brief wave before returning his attention to the Reeses. It’s only another few minutes before they finish up and leave the classroom, and I feel my cheeks flame once again as he walks over to us.

“Mr. Windward, huh?” I drawl as he stops in front of us.

“That would be me.” He grins, glancing down at Sutton. “Hey, Sutton. Looks like you’re in my class this year. That’s so cool, right?”

“So cool,” Sutton agrees, gesturing toward Beau. “This is my cousin, Beau. He’s also in your class.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Beau. I’m Mr. Windward. If you both want to go find your names on the tables behind us, there’s a fun little surprise.”

With Blakely in tow, the boys scurry away, in search of whatever it is that’s waiting for them on the tables. Grace holds out her hand to Everett. “Hi, I’m Grace, Beau’s mom and Gemma’s sister.”

Slipping his hand in hers, he shakes it, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you, Grace. I look forward to teaching Beau this year.”

“You didn’t mention you were a teacher,” I murmur, biting back a grin at this interesting turn of events. How is it that ever since he moved to town, Everett’s managed to be everywhere ?

“Ah, yeah, I kind of can’t believe I didn’t, especially when I met Sutton, but I’ve had so much on my mind the past couple weeks that it just completely slipped my mind.” He chuckles. “But it’s kind of on par for us, isn’t it?”

Grace gawks at the two of us, but I don’t dare look at her. I never told her about meeting a stranger at the pier, though I’m not sure why, but she’s going to have questions when we leave here. I can already hear them.

“I suppose it is.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I add teasingly, “You know, this isn’t helping the stalking suspicion any.”

Everett throws his head back and laughs. “I could say the same thing about you. Your child just coincidentally ends up in my class? Little fishy if you ask me, Gemma.”

“Mom, look!” Sutton runs over to us, shoving a little pouch in my hand. Inside is a piece of construction paper with a small turtle charm attached to it.

“You’re turtley awesome,” I read out loud with a chuckle. “That’s cute.”

“I love sea turtles,” Everett admits, his hands boyishly shoved into his pockets again, and I can’t help but find the look of him right now adorable. Though, I shouldn’t be finding my child’s teacher adorable . “Did you know that sand temperature actually determines the sex of the hatchlings?”

Okay, yes, adorable is correct, even if I shouldn’t think it.

Smirking, I cock a brow and say, “I did not know that, Mr. Windward.”

Everett meets my gaze, holding it just long enough for goosebumps to bloom on my arms. I’m the first one to break it, glancing down at the kids. “What do we say we go get some dinner and then some ice cream?”

A loud, collective “Yeah!” sounds in the room before they dart out into the hall.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again, Gemma,” Everett says before flicking his gaze toward my sister. “And, Grace, it was nice to meet you.”

She smiles and waves at him. “You too!”

Walking out of the classroom, she murmurs to me, “You’ve got some explaining to do, ma’am.”

“Not here.”

We end up taking the kids to Taylor’s Grill. It’s a burger spot on Main Street right across the street from Grace’s bakery, and we were able to kill two birds with one stone since they also serve ice cream. After we finish eating, we bring the kids down to the beach so they can run off some energy as we watch the sun set. Sunsets over the ocean are probably my favorite thing ever. The sight never fails to take my breath away. I will shamelessly always be the girl who stops and takes a sunset picture on her phone, knowing damn well I’m never going to look at it ever again. I can’t help it.

“So, spill,” Grace blurts out as soon as the kids are out of earshot.

Rolling my eyes, I breathe out a small laugh, because I should’ve known Grace wouldn’t forget to interrogate me about Everett. Though, to be fair, I haven’t stopped thinking about it either. Not that I’d tell her that.

“There’s not really anything to spill,” I murmur. “He’s our neighbor, and now also Sutton’s teacher, apparently.”

Grace snorts. “Bullshit, Gemma. There was clear flirting going on between you two.”

“There was not,” I scoff.

“What about that whole stalking bit? What was that about?”

Turning my head, I meet my sister’s gaze, her eyes a shade lighter than my chocolate browns. “Okay, we may have met prior to him moving into the house next door.”

“Oh my gosh, you’ve been keeping secrets from me, you bitch!” Laughter bubbles up my throat as she swats me in the arm. “Start from the beginning, and don’t leave a single thing out!”

I don’t know why I’m so nervous to tell Grace about this. It’s not like it’s anything juicy. “Okay, you remember that day that Sutton was at your place and I went to the beach?”

“The day he barfed all over my kitchen floor? Of course I do.” She chuckles.

“Well, I met him that day,” I go on. “He was sitting at the end of the pier, also watching the sunset, and I went and sat beside him. I don’t even know what came over me, but something about him had me wanting to talk to him. So, I did.”

“And?”

Laughing at her absolute impatience, I say, “And nothing, really. We talked for maybe ten minutes, and then I got your text about Sutton, so I left. Then I saw him a couple other times around town before he moved into the house next door. He was staying at Serendipity. He saw me working on their patio and brought me coffee and a bagel.”

Grace’s eyes squint with how hard she’s smiling. “Oh, I love every single thing about this!” she squeals. Ever the hopeless romantic.

“There’s nothing to love,” I mutter, looking over at the kids. They’re playing tag together with another couple kids they ran into. “He’s friendly, that’s it. ”

“Whatever you say, sis,” she drawls. “Nothing about the way he was looking at you in that classroom was friendly .”

“Oh my god, Grace.” I chuckle. “You need help.”

My body warms, remembering the way Everett looked at me when we first walked into the classroom.

“I’m just saying, being a little hot for teacher wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you. And he’s your neighbor. Talk about convenient.” Grace waggles her brows at me, and I roll my eyes, breathing out a laugh. “Lord knows you could use a little action in your life.”

My sweet, delusional sister isn’t wrong about that. Not that I would ever admit it.

“Hate to break it to you, but that’s never going to happen.”

“You’re no fun,” she huffs.

“Grace, I cannot bang my son’s teacher,” I hiss quietly, like somehow our kids who are yards away might hear me. “That’s fifty shades of inappropriate.”

“I highly doubt you’d be the first parent to do that.” She shrugs. “But whatever you say. I’m calling it now.”

Shaking my head at her, I look out over the water at the setting sun, pretending the sound of that doesn’t unfurl a sense of excitement low in my stomach.