The Coast is Clear (Breakaway Shores #1)

Izzy

Meet Cute

A dinosaur roared beside my head, Christian stretching next to me, pressing his feet into my legs. Kingston was on my other side, his body pressing against my back. I woke up like this a few mornings every week. Christian slept through the night most of the time, but when he didn’t, he found his way into my bed. I complained about it to myself, but I enjoyed it. I loved being their safe place, even if I never got to stretch out in bed.

“Mommy, it’s morning time,” Christian half-whispered into my face. My eyes opened to a soft light filtering through the top of the drapes.

I hated that he was right because I didn’t feel well-rested. I wanted to sleep more. “Shh, your brother is asleep,” I whispered back, motioning for him to get off the bed. He knew the routine. Christian hopped down, and his little feet padded against the soft floor. I rolled onto the open side of the bed, and the door handle creaked as Christian opened it. He looked back at me, his brown hair sticking up in the back. Christian had my eyes, big and brown, but everything else about him was Jack. “Go downstairs, and I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Christian nodded and slipped out the door. He left it open just a bit, and I sat up, stretching my arms above my head. My phone was face down on the white bedside table. I grabbed it, standing up. Kingston moved, turning to face the other side. He was my good sleeper. Always had been, which was surprising because I’d had no help when he was a baby. Maybe he knew that and decided to give me a break.

My phone brightness was down, and there were only a few notifications. I turned off my social media push notifications, which helped to keep me more focused throughout the day. But there was an email from my agent. I knew what it said. She needed pages. She needed me to finish the next book, and I was trying. Not doing very well, though. There were a couple of texts from Luke, links to the three houses he would show me today.

Before diving into that, I moved a pillow on either side of Kingston and grabbed Jack’s favorite sweatshirt. I left the door cracked just slightly and made my way downstairs. “Can I have my milk in a cup, Mom?” Christian’s voice was loud because the boy had no volume control.

“Coming, buddy.”

Christian knelt on a chair at the table, holding a brightly colored box. “Mom, look, it’s sugar cereal.”

I walked over to him, kissing the top of his head. “You can thank your Uncle Luke for that.”

“I’m so excited. Can I have a big bowl?” The excitement on his face made me smile. It was the little things that kids noticed that made their day. Maybe I needed to try that.

The first house was just what you’d expect for a beach house. Luke told me the owner’s complete life story on our way there, both boys occupied with brand new dinosaur toys in the backseat of the van. The woman had been single her whole life and loved being that way. She was ready to move near her sister, who lived in Florida. Her house was one story with three bedrooms right next to each other. The shingles on the outside were weathered gray from the salt spray. A sign outside the door with waves and big, bold letters called the house Breakaway Manor. Everything inside was some shade of blue, and I had to give it to the lady. She knew how to decorate. Everything was cohesive and made you feel like you were on vacation at the beach. Christian got too handsy with a lamp and almost knocked it off the entryway table. Luckily, Luke grabbed it just in time. He locked up, and we headed one street over to the next house. It felt silly to strap the boys into the car for a one-minute ride, but we did it anyway.

“Okay, now this house has three bedrooms as well, but it does have an office space on the main level. It has two levels and a backyard, although it needs some work. This is a second home for the owners, and they have a handful of others, so they just want to offload this one. I bet you could get in this one quickly if you wanted to.” Luke shuffled the papers on his clipboard as we arrived at the address.

Luke exited the car and went to the front door, pressing on the oversized lockbox hanging off the handle. Christian unbuckled himself and jumped out of his car seat to get his brother out. He was a good helper when he wanted to be. I opened the sliding van door and waited for them. Kingston smiled at me, and I picked him up, putting him on one hip. “Let’s go look at this house, babes.”

“Purple house!” He yelled in my ear as I took in the house from the street.

It was purple, a little bit too purple for me. But the paint could be changed. Christian ran ahead to Luke, who opened the door. “I wanna pick my room,” he called out.

“Take off your shoes, Christian.”

He skidded to a stop and took off his shoes before bounding inside. Luke followed me as I walked into the house. He didn’t try to sell me anything at the other house but answered my questions. The living room was off to the left, and everything appeared homey. The layer of dust on the furniture wasn’t super inviting. The downstairs was a circle, with the stairs in the middle. I wanted something more open. To make it easier to see the boys and be with them. I knew it wasn’t the winner for me, but I walked through all the rooms and found Christian lying on the end of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

“What do you think, Mama?” he asked as I walked in.

Kingston rested his head on my shoulder, and my arms ached. But I knew the days of him wanting me to hold him were few. Christian still did sometimes, but he was too busy. Too independent at his age. “I think it’s nice. We still have one more to look at.”

“I like this one. There’s so much blue stuff. Blue is the best color.” He flopped down on the bed and let out a big sigh.

“Let’s go before you fall asleep,” I joked, and he popped his head up. He rolled off the side, catching himself with a leg, and followed me out of the room. Luke was on his phone by the front door, and he met my eyes as we came down the stairs. “It’s nice.”

“And onto the next,” he said with a chuckle, moving toward the door.

“I mean, I really like the decor.”

Luke laughed again as Christian ran out the door. “I’m not offended. This isn’t my favorite, but I think it’s good to see a variety of houses.”

Luke was older than me by just a few years. We weren’t close growing up, always pitted against each other. But as adults, our relationship had grown. It is one of the closest relationships I have. The only person in our family who I cared to talk to.The only person in our family who I knew would always listen.

“We can walk to the next one. It’s just around the corner.” Luke said, locking the door behind us.

Christian pulled on the van's door handle, trying to get it to slide open. “Bub, we’re gonna walk to the next one.”

His face lit up, and he jumped. “Yes, can we go to the beach after?”

Luke grabbed his hand and pulled him along, “Only if I can bury you in the sand.” His eyes went wide, and then he softened as Luke laughed.

Kingston wiggled in my arms, “Let me down,” he said against my hair, and I put him on the ground, my hand wrapped firmly around his.

We walked in the middle of the street, with sidewalks nonexistent on most roads. But it was quiet, and the sounds in the distance were very far away. Luke pointed to the left, “Down G street.” And we followed behind him.

The houses started to spread out, with more space in between each one. They were more prominent on this street, too, not by too much, but more comfortable. My eye caught on one, the siding weathered but not like it’d been there for decades. The front had a wraparound porch leading to the right side of the house. There was a swing with mismatched pillows facing the street. A bay window upstairs, and I stopped in the middle of the street. Kingston tugged on my hand, “Let’s go, Mom.”

“This is it,” Luke’s voice was bright, and I met his eyes as he stood in the empty driveway of the house that I had been staring out.

“Yeah,” I said, not sure what else to say. I loved it. I hadn’t even stepped inside, but something about it settled another tiny broken piece of me. I could see the boys chasing each other on the porch, and I would read in the bay window upstairs. The grass was beautiful and healthy out front.

The boys followed Luke as he unlocked the front door. He waited for me to go inside before following. The house was clean and well put together. The entryway led right into the living room, and I could see the kitchen and dining room all from the door. Open, so much space. A set of French doors led to what I assumed was the backyard, and the stairs were to my left.

A short table sat on the wall by the stairs, with a smattering of frames standing up. The photos caught my gaze. There was a young boy in football gear and an older man with his arm wrapped around his shoulders. Another picture showed the same boy laughing with a woman who matched his eyes in front of a snowy mountain. The smallest photo gave me pause; it looked like the boy but years later. He wore a blue football jersey with a charging bolt, and his hands were up in the air. He was on a football field, looking like he had been playing in a game. “Who lives here?” I asked my brother, turning around to rest on the table's edge.

Luke glanced up from his phone, smiling, “One of my buyers from a few years ago. He’s a good guy, but he’s just looking to move. He’s retired from football,” he said, motioning to the photos.

Football. Jack loved football. I learned to love it, but it had been hard to watch since he died. I could still hear him cheering, booing, and yelling excitedly at his favorite teams. “But he’s moving?”

“He wants to, yeah. This house is not on the market yet, but he wants to sell it. It’s a great house.”

“Yeah, it is.” And I thought so. The kitchen was beautiful, and the upstairs bedrooms were spacious. The bay window was precisely the kind of space I thought it would be from the outside. I hadn’t lived in a house without Jack since we got married. The house we’d left in Colorado was our house when we married. I thought he would have liked this one. He would have loved the front porch, and seeing the kids while we were in the kitchen was always a big one for him. Luke let me walk through the house alone, and I walked back downstairs with my heart in my throat.

I wanted this house so badly. It was where I could see myself starting again. I stepped across the threshold onto the large back patio when I heard a voice I didn’t recognize. My eyes found Luke standing across from a tall man.

The one in the photos. He was older now, his dark hair shorter, but it was him. Christian and Kingston were huddled by a large rock. The backyard was great and completely fenced in. It was just another thing that I loved about it.

“I’m sorry that we overlapped. I thought you were still in the city,” Luke said, glancing at me.

The man followed his gaze, and how he looked at me made something inside me freeze. He looked upset, and it felt like it might be because of me, of us being there. Which was irrational, but the strength of his glare made me question myself. I pushed my hair behind my ears and smiled, walking toward them. “It’s fine. I finished early,” his voice deep and gruff. He crossed his arms over his chest, and the simple button-up shirt he had on stretched across his forearms. His dark hair was short but styled in a way almost like he spent too much time doing it that morning. His eyes looked blue in the photos, but it was clear this close that they were woodsy green. His face was clean-shaven, and he looked like he should still be playing football. I looked away because I felt like I was staring.

“Zander, this is my sister, . She’s a fan of the house.”

He nodded to Luke, not to me, “Great. I’d love to get it sold.”

“Why haven’t you listed it?” I asked, not sure why I needed to know the answer to that question.

Zander glanced at the two boys playing, “Just looking for the right person to sell it to, I guess.” He met my eyes momentarily, and I felt like a heatwave rolled over me .

Luke chuckled, “Well, we will get out of your hair, okay? Guys, it’s time to go.”

Christian’s head shot up, a glare on his face, “I don’t want to go.”

“I thought we were going to play at the beach,” I tried to keep my voice light, not wanting to have a kid meltdown in front of a stranger.

“Can we get ice cream?” Kingston asked, haphazardly dropping a handful of rocks. Zander walked past me, his body entirely too close to mine, and went inside the house.

“Ice cream sounds perfect,” I said, wanting to escape this unfamiliar feeling inside me.