Chapter Nine

Lola

"So," Jerica asks, setting three sweet-smelling cookies down on the table in front of us and taking her seat across from me. "How have your first few days been on the job?"

"I think it's going well," Bree says as she picks up a cookie and takes a bite. "Oh my…this is delicious."

And man, is it ever. Jerica was spot on when she deemed this bakery amazing and said we needed to try these cinnamon-sugar cookies. My life might be forever altered by a single sweet.

"I know, right?" Jerica's eyes almost roll back into her head when she takes a bite of her own sugary treat. "Literally my favorite cookie." After she swallows, she asks, "So no issues with my brother, then? I know he's not exactly a picnic, especially when he's forced into new situations."

I bristle a bit at her comment, though I take care not to let it show. "Well, it's not like we're holding him hostage this summer." I aim a teasing smile her way.

"Oh, I know that. Obviously, he signed up for this. I just mean he's not super…you know…adaptive? Usually, it takes him a long time to make a decision. And then when he does, it takes him even longer to act on it."

Bree nudges my foot under the table, and we briefly share a glance. "Well, considering that, I'd say he did very well," I say, silently wondering if Bertie actually is of service to him in some way. It would make sense. After watching Perry for the last three days, it's evident how uncomfortable he is with people he's unfamiliar with. Buzz told us that every time he tried to make polite conversation with the captain, he looked physically ill. And trying to get words out of him was like trying to pull a hundred-year-old artifact out of a barnacle encrusted tomb.

"I mean, he didn't seem overly thrilled to have the three of us traipsing around on his boat," I add, "but he didn't toss us overboard. So there ya go…progress."

Jerica laughs, twirling her half-eaten cookie through the air. "I think this will be good for him, honestly. Maybe he'll even make friends." She sends me a look that unnecessarily causes heat to flare in my cheeks.

"Already tried that," I say with a chuckle. "I flat out told him that I'd like to be friends with him my first day here and got pretty harshly denied."

"Aw, really, Lo?" Bree reaches out and squeezes my arm while I wave her off, but Jerica just rolls her eyes.

"Ignore that. It takes him a bit to warm up to people. He's a little…"

"Surly?" I supply.

"Well, yeah. But I was going to say hard to crack. Ever since—"

Before she can finish her sentence, one of the bakery workers—Meg, I think Jerica called her—trots up with a full pot of coffee. "Would any of you like a warm up?"

"Oh, yes, please," Bree says, holding out her coffee mug. Meg fills her cup almost to the brim, then heads to the next table.

"Anyway, as I was saying." Jerica smiles over the rim of her coffee mug. "Maybe just give my brother a little more time to open up. I'm sure once he sees how genuine and sweet you guys are, he'll come around."

I return her smile, though I'm not sure I believe her. And by the tight-lipped smile Bree sends her, I don't think she does either. But that's okay. As much as it irked me the first day or so that Perry seemed to despise us and everything we're trying to do, I've come to terms with the fact that maybe I can't actually win everyone over.

Maybe not every job has to be an opportunity for me to make friends.

Either way, I've decided I'm going to stop trying so hard to make him—and others—like me. That tactic never served me well in high school, when after months of trying to fit in with the popular girls, I still didn't get invited to their parties, and it never worked with Hal. I held on to that relationship so tightly, I couldn't even see that he was letting go.

Why put myself through that again?

"Okay, you guys ready to hit the beach?" Jerica eyes us with raised brows.

"Absolutely, let's go." As we head out of the bakery toward the sand, I remind myself to accept the friendship I'm offered and stop wishing for everyone's approval. If Perry doesn't like me, fine. I don't need him to. I can still have fun with Jerica and Bree. Time to set all thoughts of the gorgeous grump aside in favor of an afternoon of fun in the sun.

Why did I think that my pale pink skin could withstand lying out in the sun for almost three hours? The off-brand sunscreen I purchased at the Willow Cove hardware store was no match for the South Carolina rays.

"At least your face isn't red," Bree offers as we trudge back to my cottage with our beach stuff in tow.

"Yeah. I've got that going for me, I guess."

Finally, we reach the front porch steps, and Bree hops up them like the naturally tan person she is. Why couldn't I have been so blessed? "Want me to rub some aloe vera on your back when we get inside?"

I force a laugh that's supposed to sound light and airy yet borders on maniacal. "Hah, no. I'll be fine, I promise. I'm going to take a cold shower, grab a book, and rest on the couch for the night."

"Are you sure?" Bree opens the door and regards me as if I'm a fragile piece of porcelain. When her gaze catches on a particularly patchy red spot, she winces. "I feel partly responsible. I should've made you put on more sunscreen when I suggested we play beach volleyball with those guys."

I wave off her concern and slide my tote bag off my shoulder, suppressing a grimace as it glides over my scorching skin before it hits the floor with a thud. "It's not your fault; it's mine. I should've known sunscreen that only costs a dollar wouldn't do much."

"Well, still. Why don't—" Bree's phone buzzes in her pocket, and she holds up a finger while she slides it out. "Oh shoot, it's Buzz. I promised to meet up with him for dinner tonight."

"Go ahead," I say, urging her toward the door. "I promise I'll be fine on my own. Seriously, I'm just going to stay in and relax."

She sighs. "Okay. I'd hug you, but…"

"Yeah, it's probably best if you don't." We both laugh as she says goodbye before heading to meet her brother.

I spread my legs and arms like a starfish and waddle toward the back bedroom. "Ughhhh, what was I thinking?" I don't think I've ever been so sunburnt in my life. And so fast! I didn't even realize how burnt I was until we grabbed lunch at a food truck. As soon as we sat down at a table in the shade, Jerica commented on how much sun I got. Then I started to feel it.

And boyyyy, do I feel it now.

I hobble toward the bed topped with crisp, white linens and fall face first into the plush comforter. "Ouchy." Most of the damage was done to my shoulders and back, thanks to the aforementioned volleyball game. It was fun, though. Even if the guys who asked us to play were a little on the obnoxiously flirty side. Couldn't say I expected anything less when I spied Weston with them.

I just didn't expect to be paying so dearly for said fun later.

Bree's right. I should get some aloe on it, pronto. Peeling myself off the bed, I shuffle toward the bathroom. I scour the drawers but can't find any aloe or cream anywhere. I swear I packed some. Getting sunburnt is nothing new for me and my pasty-white freckled skin. But another thorough search of all the drawers, including the ones in the bedroom and kitchen, tells me I did not in fact purchase any before I left Rhode Island.

Guess I'll have to run to the store…

Glancing down at my bare feet, two-piece swimsuit, and see-through mesh cover-up that barely covers my rear, I nix that idea. It might be normal for the locals to shop in their swimsuits in a beach town like this, but it's not for me. And if I have to put a shirt on right now, I might actually die from the pain. And shorts? Forget it.

I groan, knowing I'd feel a whole lot better with something cool against my skin. I take a quick cold shower, then slip on a cotton tank top and shorts, the skimpiest ones I have, just so there's the least amount of fabric touching my skin as possible. It doesn't take long to realize the cool water only helped momentarily.

I need something to heal this burn quickly, but the thought of going all the way to the store makes my body physically ache.

That's when a bright idea hits. Maybe Perry has some aloe or after sun gel he wouldn't mind if I use. I'm assuming he's home since his rusty pickup is still parked out back.

I shuffle toward the back door and peer out of it, debating. If I walk over there and knock on his door, there's a chance he'll shut it in my face. You'd think that after three days of working together, we'd have made some sort of progress. But no. He still looks at me like he despises my very existence.

Then again, there's also a chance he'll pity me and offer up whatever he has that could soothe this burn. I sigh, knowing he's my best option right now. "You can do this, Lo. The worst he can say is no." Once again, I remind myself that I don't need him to like me, I just need him to help me this one time.

I suck in a deep breath and push the back door open with purpose, wincing when it slaps into the frame a little too hard. It only takes fifteen paces until I'm standing at Perry's front door. I knock loud enough to wake the dead, one, two, three times.

Then I stand back and open and close my fists nervously. It takes approximately one minute for him to come to the door looking like the picture of cozy comfort in black shorts and a white tee. His hair's a bit disheveled like he was just lying on his couch or bed or…something cozy.

"Lola?"

I blink and my mouth parts in surprise. I don't think he's ever called me that before. Normally, it's the stuffy "Miss Brighton" while on his boat.

"Are you okay?" His gaze flits over my body as if trying to determine whether or not I'm healthy and whole.

"Oh, uh. Yeah," I rush to say, crossing my arms over my chest. It's then I remember that I'm standing on his doorstep in only my skimpy pajamas. "I just wondered if you had any aloe vera. Or some other kind of after sun gel?" I shift on my feet when his eyebrows rise. "I guess I forgot to bring some with me, and I don't really feel like getting dressed and going to the store. Since I'm so sunburnt."

I do a half-turn and point to my shoulder.

His breath hisses through his teeth before he says, "Ouch. That looks like it's going to hurt worse tomorrow."

I laugh and turn back around. "Yeah. So…do you have anything I could use?"

His lips purse to the side as he opens his door wider and takes a step back. "I think I might." Before I can ask if that was an invitation to come in, he disappears down what appears to be a small hallway.

Well, okay then. He didn't technically say I could follow him inside, but he also didn't tell me to stay here. And he opened the door wider. Typically, that means, "Hey, come on in while I search for the thing you need!"

But Perry isn't exactly typical.

Still, the urge to see inside this man's home is strong…stronger even than the fear that tells me to stay right where I am lest I tick him off. I take a small step inside, and my bare feet meet cool tile. I don't know what I was expecting, but a neutral-toned open concept kitchen and living area wasn't quite it. Soft snoring tugs harder at my curiosity, and I follow the sound around Perry's couch. On the opposite side lies Bertie, snuggled in a pink fur doggie bed.

A chortle escapes me, startling the little pug, and I slap a hand over my mouth. I kneel down next to her as her little roly poly body wiggles toward me in a big stretch.

"Oh, you're so pretty when you wake up from a nap, aren't you?" I bend even further, kissing the side of her squishy face. "Oh, yes you are. Yes . You . Are ."

"It wasn't enough that you woke me up from a nap." Perry's deep voice has me staring up into his dark blue eyes. Caught. "You just had to wake my dog up too."

I give Bertie one last pat before getting to my feet. "Would it help if I said you looked pretty after waking up from a nap too?" I bat my eyelashes for good measure.

For the first time since meeting him, Perry's cheeks redden, and it looks as if he wants to laugh. With me. Or at me. Not totally sure. But I don't even care. Finally , I've appealed to his sense of humor.

"No. Doesn't help." He holds out a bottle of blessed aloe vera gel, and I swear I can almost hear angels sing.

"Thank you so much for this. I'll give it back when I'm done."

"Eh, just keep it."

I clutch the bottle to my chest. "Are you sure?" At his nod, I say, "Then I'll pay you for it. Let me just grab some cash from my purse."

"That's really not necessary—"

"I insist!" Before he has a chance to argue, I'm waddling back to the bungalow and rummaging through my purse for a few bucks. When I find three dollars in my wallet, I toss them on the bed, then uncap the bottle of aloe vera. That first swipe of cool gel across my shoulders is like heaven. I sigh with contentment as I rub the aloe in all over my shoulders and down my arms, even my chest. When I try to reach around to my back, I immediately realize it's not happening.

But that's the only place that still burns as if the devil himself is holding a pitchfork to it.

A crazy idea pops in my head, but I quickly dismiss it. I can't ask Perry to rub aloe on my back. It would be…weird. And of course he'd say no. The man can't stand me. But he is here. And available.

I bite my lip as I pop the bottle's lid. Maybe I could just ask. I mean, the worst he can do is say no…right?

Bottle and cash in hand, I head back over to Perry's with a little more pep in my step than I had when I practically hobbled here the first time. I knock and he answers the door less than a second later.

"I told you it's not necessary to pay me."

"I know, but…I have a second request." I go back to biting my lip, hating what I'm about to do. But desperate times call for desperate measures. "Would you possibly…maybe…be willing to…rub some aloe on my back?"

His eyes widen as he blinks at me. Once. Twice. Three times. "You want me to rub aloe on your back?"

Uh, why does he have to say it like that? So scandalously. Like I just asked him to rub my back in a hot tub or something.

"What?" My voice squeaks, prompting me to clear my throat immediately. Can't let this man smell fear. "It's only my back. I just…can't reach it." I hold the cash and bottle out to him, hoping he'll take both with no questions asked.

He grips both, but his gaze is still locked with mine. "I'm not rubbing you." Eyes rounding further, he catches himself. "I mean aloe. I mean, I'm not rubbing aloe on you ." With a huff, he crosses his arms.

I want to laugh at his verbal slip, but instead I groan like a whiny toddler. "Come on, Perry, please? It feels like a branding iron is pressing into my back. I'd ask Bree, but she just went to dinner with Buzz, and Jerica is on the first date she's been on in—" I close my lips, suddenly realizing this may not be information he's supposed to know.

"Jerica is on a date?" The way his brow pinches tells me I definitely wasn't supposed to leak that.

"Um. Yes?" I shift on my feet. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"It wasn't Weston, was it?"

I wave him off with a laugh. "Oh, no. She's not falling for that guy again. Heard all about it after he not-so-subtly tried to hijack our girls' night out. We did play volleyball with him today, though."

Perry tenses.

"But she assured me it was fine," I rush to say. "We were in a group with like six other guys. No biggie." I smile, hoping to ease his concern.

Perry's shoulders relax until his gaze locks on the bottle of aloe in his hands. He's completely silent. As if he's calculating the many ways this scenario could go wrong.

"Please, Perry?" At that, he meets my eyes. "If you do this for me, we'll never speak of it again, okay? I won't even bring it up as a joke. This is just you—my friendly neighbor—helping me out in my time of need." I smile reassuringly, hoping he'll take the bait. Reeling this guy in takes more time and patience than I've ever had to expend before.

He blows out a weary breath, then pockets the three bucks. "Fine. But get in here so no one sees."

I glance around, noting that there's not another soul anywhere near where his apartment is located. But I'm not stopping to tell him that, or even ask questions. He's doing me a huge favor right now, and I will keep my end of the bargain.

"Sure, okay." I follow him inside, and he motions toward his couch.

"Do you wanna sit for this, or…?" The tightness of his voice marks just how uncomfortable he is with this situation. And I don't blame him. I doubt this man has ever been asked to rub aloe on a person he despises before.

"I can sit." I skip over to the couch and sink right down into the linen fabric. When Perry sits too, I roll back into him a little. "Sorry." I chuckle. "Your couch is super comfy."

He murmurs a quick thanks just before I hear the gel make a loud squirting noise out of the bottle. "All right." He clears this throat. "Here goes." He clears his throat again. Then…nothing.

"I think you have to actually press the gel into my skin for it to work," I joke.

He releases a long sigh, and his breath skates over the back of my neck. Goosebumps race down my arms at the unexpected puff of air. "I know how this works."

"Do you?" I tease. "I can't see you having been in many situations like this."

He scoffs. "You don't even know me. Not really."

"Well, we could remedy that." I smile to myself, back still facing him. "Tell me something about you." I chew on my lip, hoping he'll bite.

Why I want to befriend this man so badly is beyond me. It almost feels like a challenge now. Besides, it's not hard to see how isolated he is, how lonely he must be. Jerica hasn't told me a lot about her brother, but I know enough to realize he purposely avoids social gatherings. Jerica informed me that the only real friends he has are the guys he hangs out with at the Shallow End. And according to her, he never dates. Doesn't even really interact with women. Unless, of course, you count Fran, but…she's twice his age. Which of course makes me even more curious about that picture I found…

"I don't like talking about myself." His shallow intake of breath marks his unease. But sometimes you have to get out of your comfort zone to make friends. Maybe I can be the gentle push he needs to do so.

"I get it. It can be scary to open up to people. But think of it this way…I'll be gone in just a few weeks. Anything you tell me can't be used against you because I'll be hundreds of miles away by the end of the summer." I smile even though my heart twinges at the thought. It's crazy how much I've grown to love this little town in less than a week.

"I'm not afraid, it's just…" He sighs again, and his breath tickles my neck. "Fine. I enjoy fishing."

I sputter a laugh. "Come on, Perry. I already know that about you. Tell me something I don't know."

"Okay. I…" He pauses. "Jerica and I share the same dad but have different moms. And we have a younger brother who also…has a different mom."

I perk up at this new information. "Really? She didn't tell me that."

"It's not something we shout from the rooftops, I guess."

"Hm." I take care to choose my next words wisely. "Is your mom still around?"

"She is. Not in Willow Cove, but she's not far. About thirty minutes away in Columbia."

"Oh, really? That's nice. Do you guys have a good relationship?" I wait with bated breath, hoping he doesn't catch on to my inquiry too soon. But this is how I get people to open up. One question leads to another, then another, and before they realize it, they're spilling their whole life story. And I eat it up. I love learning about people and making connections everywhere I go.

"We do. My mom's great, but my dad…" He trails off as if catching himself from revealing too much. "Anyway, let's get this over with."

I frown. "Okay." Clearly, I pushed him too hard, too fast. But at least I got to know just a little bit more about him. I mentally file away the information about his mom and dad, making a note to ask Jerica about it later. Where her brother's life is like a barred jail cell, Jerica's is a wide-open book.

I feel him set the bottle of gel onto the couch, then hear the liquid squish between his hands. "It might be cold."

Then his hands are on me. And it is anything but cold. I flinch a bit at the contact, and he pulls away. "Sorry. My palms are rough."

"No, it's fine. It wasn't that; I just got caught a bit off guard." I swallow, bracing myself for him to make contact once again. When he does, I close my eyes and pretend not to love the way his callouses scrape across my sunburnt back.

"Need more gel," he mumbles just before I hear another squirt. Taking his time, he rubs the aloe onto my skin with care and precision.

"It feels good, actually." His movements slow, but he doesn't stop, starting at the top and working his way down. "I really appreciate you doing this."

He grunts a response, and I smile. Typical Perry. Can't take a compliment or a simple thanks. Instead of muddying up this moment with words, I remain silent until he's finished. It's easy to do when his sure, even movements nearly lull me to sleep.

"All right." He caps the bottle and hands it to me from behind. "Looks like I got it all."

I shift to face him when I take it. "Thank you so much. Really. You're a good friend." Giving him what I hope is a bright smile, I rise from the couch and head for the door. "I'll see you on Monday, if not before."

Without a word of goodbye from him, I slip out the door and into my cottage.