Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Jess nibbled on the blackberry hand pie in front of her, then paused. It wasn't right yet—the filling didn't taste as sweet as she hoped, and she felt it needed something else to give it that special zing. Maybe more lemon juice? She bent over her table and made a note to try that in her next batch.

Kevin stood at the other end of the shop with Calvin, their heads bent, mumbling something she couldn't hear.

"Are you going to share with the class or are you going to keep ignoring the fact that I'm here?" Jess barked.

Kevin grinned, looking between her and Calvin. "She's such a charmer."

"If that's what you want to call it," Calvin jested.

Jess's mouth fell open. "Did you just sass me, Ball?"

"You deserve it sometimes," he chafed, following Kevin as the two of them made their way to her counter. He crossed his arms in that familiar military-like I now mean business stance. "Okay, do you want bad news or worse news first?"

She rubbed her face. "Just tell me."

"The breakfast rush you have is great, but it's not enough to make up for the lull in the afternoon. You guys are behind."

"And the worse news?"

"Even if you do find a miraculous way to get customers in here during the afternoon, you may find yourselves needing another investor or a new owner."

She perched her elbows on the counter and placed her head in her hands.

"It's all right, Jessica, we'll figure it out," Kevin said softly.

The tiny bell at the door made a cheerful ding as someone entered the shop. Jess stood up straight, recognizing the platinum blonde hair and the round belly.

"Dakota, hi!"

Her sister smiled, waddling her way over to the counter. She was in her seventh month now, yet she still looked radiant as always; glowing skin, hair shiny and silky, freckles dotting across her nose and cheeks. She looked down at the half-eaten hand pie on the counter. "Whatever that is smells amazing, do you have another?"

Jess pushed the plate to her. "Finish it and tell me what you think, I can't seem to figure out what's wrong with it."

"There's probably nothing wrong with it," Kevin bantered.

Dakota smiled, taking the plate. "You know Jess, always a perfectionist."

She rolled her eyes. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, do you—um—have a minute?"

Jess nodded, making her way around the counter. Kevin pulled a chair out for Dakota at one of the tables by the window and held out a hand, assisting her into it.

He took a step back and bumped into Jess, then held out his hands in apology. "Sorry, didn't mean to—"

Jess sidestepped and took a seat. "All good."

Kevin gestured for Calvin to join him outside, the two of them mumbling to each other again as they exited the shop.

Dakota cocked her head. "That was weird."

"Yeah, weird is an understatement," Jess grumbled. "Let's not talk about it. What's up?"

Her sister raised her brow, but she obliged. "I have something for you."

Dakota slipped a sage-green envelope across the table. Jess picked it up timidly, noticing the way her sister was beaming again at her, like she was the damn sun. Jess ripped open the envelope and pulled out an invitation.

Come shower Baby Carver with lots of love!

Jess gulped, reading the rest of the invitation details. It was two weeks from now, and it was being held at the house. Their house. Her childhood home.

The RSVP was to her mother, Whitney Valerie.

Jess froze, eyes on the invitation, not daring to make a move or a sound. She felt like her brain short-circuited as she remained in that spot, thinking through what she should do next and never coming up with a solid plan.

"I…I know it's a lot," Dakota hedged after their bout of silence. "But I can't imagine not having you there, sissy. I need you, and I need you in this baby's life."

Jess remained silent, eyes on the invitation.

"It's probably cruel for me to ask you to come and to face them, but I—"

"It is cruel, Dakota. They kicked me out. They wanted nothing to do with me."

She finally looked up at her sister and watched as Dakota pursed her lips. "Jess, you were so single-minded then. You only had your focus on one thing —being with Charlie. You broke their hearts. You broke my heart."

"Is that why you sided with them? Because you were angry that I chose Charlie and his father?"

"Yes," Dakota admitted, face firm, brows knitted together. "You know how much Dad loved that place, and Mr. Sullivan ripped it right out from under his feet. He was in pain, and your words rubbed dirt in the wound."

"What did he expect me to do, huh? Break up with Charlie after four years because our fathers were fighting? I was a teenager and deeply, deeply in love with him. The idea of being forced to break up with him felt like ripping out my own damn heart. I couldn't do it. I had to sneak out and see him."

"It's messed up, I know. He made some dumb decisions. He regrets it."

"But when is he going to say that to me ? Buying ten croissants at Haverfest isn't the answer. He has to say it… to my face ."

She pursued her lips again. "You heard about the croissants?"

"I was under the table."

Dakota rolled her eyes. "Dammit, Jess. You could try too, you know."

"How do I when the last words he spoke to me were ‘I never want to see you again. You are no daughter of mine.'"

Her chest squeezed tight, like firm hands around a soft fruit. She sucked in shallow breaths but couldn't get enough oxygen. She bent over, holding her chest.

"Jess, sissy, oh my god—"

Dakota bolted out of her seat, reaching around the counter and snatching a white paper bag. She flicked it open and placed it over Jess's mouth, then reached for her hands and helped her to hold it steady as Jess kept trying to suck in air.

"I'm here, I'm here," Dakota reassured, rubbing a circle on Jess's thighs.

Jess finally got control of her breathing. She sat back and tossed the bag to the floor.

"Jess, how often does that happen?"

"Probably too often," she admitted.

Dakota was still on her knees in front of Jess. She should have helped her sister up, but she felt boneless after her panic attack. A panic attack. Even thinking about the fact that she had one didn't seem real.

The bell on the door chimed. "Everything okay in here—?"

Kevin noticed the paper bag on the floor, the way Dakota was kneeling before Jess, then ran over to them. "Did it happen again?"

Dakota's eyes widened. "Ye—yeah."

Kevin brushed a palm on Jess's cheek. "Are you okay?"

The warmth of his hand felt like a nostalgic comfort after days of not being touched by him. Ever since coming back from Vermont, Kevin had kept his distance. He didn't touch her wrist when she gave him his daily kanelbullar or put his hands on her shoulders when they talked or give her a hug at the end of the day. She knew it was his way of guarding his own heart, and she hated how selfish she felt for wishing he would stop enforcing those boundaries. Especially now that she couldn't deny the feelings that were taking root inside of her.

She leaned her cheek into his palm. "I'll be okay."

At some point Calvin entered the shop and helped Dakota up from the ground, but Kevin kept his hand on her. He brushed it down her face and cupped the back of her neck.

"I'll—uh, I'll just go then," Dakota said. She reached for the invitation on the table. "I'm sorry for putting this on you."

"Leave it."

Dakota looked up at her sister with big, elephant-sized tears in her eyes.

"I'll think about it," Jess croaked.

Dakota's bottom lip quivered. "Th-thank you."

Calvin offered to walk her out, keeping a steady hand on her back as he guided her outside. Jess glanced out the window and watched as Jasper hopped out of the truck and ran for Dakota, his face full of concern and, from the looks of it, anger. She tore her gaze away before Jasper could notice her. She knew who that anger was meant for.

Kevin crouched down and tugged on Jess's neck, forcing her to look at him. "Jess, what do you need?"

What did she need? She needed to scream, maybe throw the plate and the half-eaten hand pie across the room. She needed to blast her music in the car and sing at the top of her lungs until her voice went so hoarse she wouldn't be able to make a sound for days. She needed to get her hands in dough and knead the emotions away, bake until the sweet smell of the shop drowned out her senses. She needed to curl up on her bed with Honey and sleep for a day. Maybe two. Maybe a week.

She needed to feel loved, cherished, adored. She needed to bend down and kiss those lips again, feel his confidence and joy, run her hands through his honey-brown hair.

She jerked out of his hold and stood up. "I need to figure out how we're going to get afternoon customers."

"Jess—"

She didn't stop to hear what he had to say and escaped into the back of the bakery, tying up her apron.

Jess sat on the couch at the Balls' cottage, Honey snoozing by her feet. She had her notebook open in front of her as she furiously took notes, doodles of pastry concepts and potential recipes covering the pages. Nothing she put together seemed to click, nothing seemed to be enough to keep the crowds coming. How could you compete with places like Pop's Seafood or Penny's Pizzeria or Seabreeze Café during the lunch hour? Sandwiches on leftover croissants did sound like a solution for lunches, but Grampy's already sold grinders during the afternoons and the last thing she wanted to do was seem like a copycat again. She needed something fresh. Something these businesses weren't already doing.

She heard the spinning of bike wheels and the click of pedals as someone approached the cottage. Loud footsteps climbed the stairs, then Kevin was standing outside the door. He had on that soft sweatshirt he wore when they went camping, paired with his signature board shorts and sandals.

Her heart skipped at the sight of him. She cursed to herself as she moved, squashing those feelings deep down back into her belly until they practically disappeared.

She opened the door. "Yes?"

"Jessica, hello, it's a lovely evening."

She squinted her eyes. "Why are you here?"

"For number seven on your list."

She felt her face go warm. Which one was number seven? There's no way he would be bold enough to offer a hookup, especially after throwing everything on "the table."

He gave her a beguiled smile and ticked his head toward the ocean. "It's the one where we get butt naked and dive into the Long Island Sound."

Her face felt much warmer now—scalding, actually. "You don't have to join me for that one. It would be…weird."

"We're adults, we can handle it," he said with a wink. "Come on, grab a towel and let's go."

She didn't move an inch.

He groaned. "Jess, come on. I know things are stressful right now, but I also think this will set you at ease."

She charged back into the cottage, Kevin close at her heels. "I can't think about anything else but the bakery right now, Kevin. We need a solution, and fast. How are we going to bring in afternoon customers? What else can we be doing? What am I not seeing here?"

He sighed. "I actually have an idea."

Her brow raised. "You do?"

"But I'm only going to tell you if you follow me outside and take off your clothes."

She covered her face in her hands, mumbling insufferable to herself a few times.

He must have picked up on what she said as he chuckled in response. He walked to the hallway closet and snatched a towel, then assertively walked out, as if he expected her to follow. She did.

She walked behind him down the windy road and to Scallop Shell Beach. The night was too cold for lingering late-night beachgoers, so it was only the two of them standing on the sand, looking out at the black waves that softly rippled a couple of feet in front of them.

She glared at him. "All right, Perkins, strip."

"So bossy," he teased. He peeled off his sweatshirt, and Jess couldn't help but sneak a glance. Even in the darkness she could see the outline of his toned abs. She wanted to dip her pinky down the crevices at his hips.

"Jessica, if you get a peek, I get a peek. It's only fair."

She whipped her head back toward the ocean. "No peeking."

"Not even one ?"

Without looking in his direction, she reached over and grabbed his arm, squeezing his tricep as she shoved him hard. He laughed, feigning a fall as she peeled off her T-shirt. She quicked a look at him and noticed he was peeking, his cheeks pink as his eyes grazed over the lace of her bralette at her shoulders.

"KEVIN."

"Sorry, sorry !"

"I thought you said we could be adults about this!"

"We can! Okay, we both got a peek. Now, no looking."

She unzipped her shorts and dropped them to the sand, and before she could lose her nerve, she removed her bralette and her underwear. Her skin felt ice cold, but the back of her neck felt like someone set it on fire.

Kevin also paused, the two of them standing there completely naked, looking straight ahead.

"On the count of three," he started. "One, two—"

She ran and didn't wait for three, listening to his howling laughter as he chased after her. She held up her arms and dived into the ocean. Her body sliced into the sea as her hands brushed against strands of seaweed, the taste of briny seawater on her lips.

Everything about being in the ocean felt right to her. She thought back to the last time she actually dived into the ocean, and realized it was when the Scoopers jumped the thirty feet off Sunset Rock to celebrate Rory, Melanie, and Tyler's graduation. She'd been so busy she almost forgot that the sea was even here , so close to the cottage around the corner. Coming back to the waves was like coming home, and as her head broke the surface and she breathed in the salty, sea air, she realized she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Even if her adventurous soul wanted to camp in forests or go to grungy rock concerts, her heart belonged here. And to her surprise, the thought didn't scare her. It left her with this deep feeling of fulfillment—something she had yet to feel in her twenty-three years of life.

Kevin's head popped out of the water a few feet away from her. He pushed his long hair back with his hand, his tattooed torso bobbing in the water. "This is probably the most exhilarated I've felt in my entire life."

"Your life must be pretty boring then," she jested.

"On the contrary, my life is perfect," he said. "I just never realized how much I needed my boys to be free in the ocean."

"Your…boys?"

He winked at her. "My boys ."

"Oh…oh dear god," she grunted.

He laughed. "Jessica, look at us! We're halfway through the list."

She plunged her head into the water and exhaled, big bubbles coming out of her nose. She came back up for air. "Kevin, I think we should put a pause on the list. We have to focus."

"No can do, sweetheart," he said. "We finish the list by Labor Day. That's the rule."

"How in the world are we going to—"

He held up a hand to stop her. "Jess, I've already come up with solutions. Are you ready to hear them?"

She frowned. "Fine."

"Next weekend I have a plan to tackle the rest of the list. Give me twenty-four hours, and it will be over."

She furrowed her brow. "How?"

"You're just going to have to trust me, sweetheart."

She huffed. "Whatever. What's the second thing?"

"You should serve your focaccia at lunchtime."

She drifted in the ocean for a beat, thinking it through. "The focaccia I made you?"

"Yes, not only with tomatoes—although that one will probably always be my favorite. You could also experiment with different flavor combos. Sell big fat slices, maybe have batches of fancy flavored iced tea and lemonade."

"That's actually not a bad idea."

He grinned. "I told you I have good ideas sometimes."

"Few and far between."

"But when I do have them, they are epic, right?"

She rolled her eyes, but conceded. "Okay, yeah, you're right."

He gave her a wolfish smile. "Now should we talk about the fact that you gave me a clear shot of your ass by running to the water early?"

She dipped her mouth into the salty water so he couldn't see the grin on her face. She didn't want to admit to him that she may or may not have done that on purpose.