Holiday Tides (Wilks Beach Holiday Novella)

15. Summer

fifteen

Summer

“ I never thought I’d see you two breaking bread…or holding hands,” Carol Cook says, her tattooed eyebrows rising suggestively. “I hate to interrupt your romantic evening, but I have a question for you, Summer.”

Nick slides his hands away from mine as I address Carol with a tight smile. “How can I help you?”

I should probably correct her misconception over what’s happening, but that would lead to revealing Nick’s vulnerability to someone who’d feast upon it like a famished wolverine. Even though she already knows the basics, the impulse to protect Nick burns like a bonfire in my chest.

“No denial. Interesting,” she murmurs.

Nick opens his mouth, but I shoot him a glare that has him sealing his lips and rubbing the back of his neck. Let the rumor mill do what it wants. Nick has been through too much as it is. Many would hear his tale and scoff in disbelief that any parent would abandon their child like that. Except, I’ve unfortunately seen worse over my years of working in children’s medicine.

Carol watches our wordless conversation, delighted, before focusing on me. “I’ve got a friend on the mainland who goes to my church. Her daughter and grandbaby are moving back to the area and need a pediatrician. Are you taking on new patients?”

“I am.” My grin relaxes. “Have her call Atlantic Pediatrics, and one of our front desk staff can set her up with me.”

Our server arrives with our food, and Carol thankfully excuses herself with no additional comments or questions. I expect Nick to make jokes, to lighten the heavy mood, but we both recede into ourselves for a while, quietly eating. I’m three-quarters through the deliciously spicy wings when the desire to give Nick something that would make him happy pulses like a beam of light.

“Do you have time on Saturday to look at the fireplace?”

Nick blinks up from the remnants of his bread pudding. “Really?”

My chest squeezes at his timid expression.

I nod, pressing my lips together to keep from reaching out and sliding my thumbs over his skin again. The sensation of his rough palms feels like it’s already etched into my mind, right beside all my siblings’ birthdays and my first memory of jumping through waves with Gramma.

“How about after three? We’re trying to finish ahead of schedule.”

I pull my mouth into what I hope is a convincing smile, since the rest of me has been folded inside out. “That works.”

After a beat, Nick fills the rest of our quick dinner with comical stories of his work week, and I’m so distracted that by the time we leave, I don’t even notice Carol sitting at a table near the exit.

“Didn’t you kids forget something?”

Nick and I turn back toward our table when Carol points upward. I feel more than see Nick’s shoulders rise with a largely drawn breath when we both notice the mistletoe attached to the ceiling tiles.

Directly above us.

A buzzing begins at the base of my spine and quickly spreads outward until my calves and forearms feel as if they’re vibrating. I want to kiss Nick. The revelation is so sudden and all-encompassing it’s like being dropped into icy sea water.

“Come on, Carol. What are you, the mistletoe police?” His fake laugh grates my ears.

“It’s fine,” I murmur.

Before I can overthink it, I rest my hand on his chest to rise on my tiptoes and kiss his stubbly cheek. Overwhelming impulse aside, I can’t do anything else while still being involved with Cooper. I’m mentally clearing my schedule tomorrow night to drive to his apartment and have a conversation with him. It’s crappy to break up with him so close to the holiday, but I can’t feel like this about Nick while also dating him.

It’s not until I lean back slightly that I notice Nick has laid his hand over mine, capturing my fingers. His riotous heartbeat thrums beneath my palm as our eyes meet. When we both draw in a shuttered inhale, a helpless sensation floods me. This— us —suddenly feels inevitable. Unstoppable. Nick’s eyelashes flutter when our noses brush, but before either of us can close the remaining distance, the lights on the Christmas tree blow with a loud pop.

“Darn fuse. That keeps happening.” A server crouches at the base as we fling ourselves apart.

“Um.” I swallow the boulder in my throat. “We—we should go.”

“Yeah.” He practically runs toward the exit, his broad hand opening the door for me while simultaneously standing as far away as possible.

Then we’re wordlessly striding back toward my house, my gratitude toward the glitchy Christmas lights everlasting. I never want lines to be blurred. Once I make a clean break with Cooper, I can consider all the sensations wreaking havoc in my body.

Nick and I go our separate ways, and I’m safely behind my cottage door when I recall Carol’s parting words.

“I wouldn’t classify that as a kiss.”

I barely sleep that night and continue feeling like a sleazeball throughout the next workday. Ivy asks what’s wrong four times when I don’t laugh at her Tinsel Thursday joke before giving up. Instead of texting Cooper I’m coming over, I just show up. He works from home and usually stays in on the weekdays.

My intestines twist into four distinct knots as I wait for Cooper to answer his door. When he does, he’s shirtless, his dirty-blond hair mussed like he’s been running his fingers through it. Cooper only does that when he’s stressed. A powerful wave of guilt that I’m going to break up with him atop of a bad day makes me sag against the door frame.

“Summer.” His eyes fly wide before briefly darting behind him. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” I begin to pick at my cuticle before forcing myself to stand up straight and act like the responsible adult I am. “Could we talk?”

As I move to let myself in, Cooper blocks the doorway, using his hand on the door to close it behind him. “Sure. What did you need?”

I left my coat in the car, and my thin blouse does as much for the nippy, forty-degree day as Cooper’s nonexistent shirt. “Could we talk inside?” I wrap my hands around myself when a spontaneous shiver shakes my shoulders.

Cooper looks at the door and then leans against it. “It’s not bad out, and I’m waiting on a DoorDash delivery anyway.”

“Oh…okay.” This is going to be painful either way, might as well make it cold too. I pause, rolling my lips. “I know it’s close to Christmas, so the timing of this really stinks, but—”

“Why are you talking to the delivery person when I’m starving?”

The whiny voice comes from a redheaded woman who’s wearing purple overalls and nothing else. I dart my gaze away from her ample cleavage to catch Cooper’s pinched face.

“You’re cheating on me?”

The whole scene is so similar to what happened in July that painful needles spike over my skin. Except, in that incident, I’d been walking in on my best friend’s fiancé with his personal trainer on Kayla’s wedding day.

I’d had food poisoning the day before, missing the rehearsal dinner, but felt better in the morning. Not well enough to join Kayla on our longstanding Saturday run, however. Instead, I bought her favorite pastries and let myself into her condo with my key to surprise my friend with a sweet treat before we began bridal prep. I didn’t think to announce my presence because Andrew was supposed to have an early tee time with his friends since men—unfairly—have drastically less to prepare for on their wedding day.

That morning, I’d been able to backtrack before Andrew or the other woman saw me. I didn’t have the cheating twosome staring at me as I do now.

“Oops.” Purple Overalls slams the door.

“Summer,” Cooper begins while reaching for me.

I yank out of his grip, stumbling into the mulch bed beside his unit. Freezing wood chips scatter over my snowman sock and slip into my black leather clog, but I barely register their icy bite. The shocked numbness slipping down my spine is too similar to how I felt over the summer.

“This wasn’t working out.” Cooper’s voice drags me back to the present. “You could feel it, right? You knew this was coming.”

“What?” I barely hear him over the blood sloshing in my ears. “How could I have known—”

My sentence cuts off when I remember that I was in almost the same situation last night—though without the level of nudity. The tension I felt all day sinks its claws into my exhausted shoulders.

Cooper’s right on one account, though. We haven’t been working for a long while. The overwhelming need to be done with this—him, this relationship, this situation—has me lifting my hands, palms up.

“You know what? It’s fine.”

“It is?” His arm drops heavy at his side before his relieved expression sullies. “Do you want to come in, then?”

I turn my back to him before the bile rising in my throat can make me gag. “Goodbye, Cooper.”