The Coast is Clear (Breakaway Shores #1)

Izzy

Intrusive

My bed was too small for all three of us. Christian was pressed right into my back, his face nuzzled against me. Kingston’s feet were pressed onto my thighs, his head nearing the edge of the bed. It had been a rough night. Kingston didn’t want to sleep, and Christian kept waking up from his brother’s crying, which meant I didn’t sleep much. And now, I was hot from their body heat and needed to pee.

Yesterday had been a good day. Zander had left before the arcade, his phone dinging before he left. I made a mental note to ask Luke what he did for work since he was a retired football player. I never considered what those guys did after they were too old or injured to play. I was glad he’d left because I couldn’t stop thinking about his hands, which frustrated me.

I didn’t have any widow friends in real life. I had stayed connected with one woman who I’d met through Instagram. She was older than me by a few years, but our husbands passed within a few months of each other. We didn’t have heart-to-hearts or anything, but we encouraged each other. She had school-aged kids, and when she would complain about being a widow or doing all this alone, I was there to remind her she wasn’t the only one. And she did the same for me. But she wasn’t dating yet, and something about that made me feel like I shouldn’t be dating yet. Not that I wanted to or had the energy to date. I hadn’t even thought about anybody like that since Jack died. But if I was being candid with myself, Zander made something inside me wonder if I was ready to see what it would be like.

And that made me uneasy.

But maybe it would be a non-issue. He was moving. Leaving, and that would mean I wouldn’t have to be around him for much longer.

I did my best to sneak out of bed and went downstairs. I grabbed my laptop off that kitchen counter and opened it up. My book was open in one window, and I minimized it. I reread part of it last night but was still completely stuck on where to go next. There was a new email from my agent. She was just checking in. I was still two months from my deadline. I had time, but she knew I was stuck. I shot her a response and tried to make it sound like I was making progress.

The rest of the morning fell into our usual routine. Kingston was up first, followed by Christian about forty-five minutes later. We had breakfast, and they watched a show while I did the dishes. Then, we got ready for the day. Luke popped through the front door as the boys started getting antsy. “Hello, my favorite people.”

The boys were building a very intense dinosaur cage out of magnet tiles, but Christian waved at least.

“I thought you had showings today?” I asked my brother.

He shrugged. “I’ve got assistants for that. I’m taking full advantage of you guys being here and the boys not being in school. Plus, I may have made a mistake,” Luke grimaced.

“What?”

“Mom called me,” he started, and I knew what he’d done. “And I was late for a date, just trying to get her off the phone. She asked me what I had been up to, and I mentioned being with you and the kids.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“I’m sorry.”

“Is she coming here?” I asked him, my stomach knotting up. It’s not that I didn’t like my mom, but our relationship was tense. Since becoming a mom and then a widow, how I saw her changed. She always put herself first above everyone. It was a hard realization to come to after my husband died, and I needed her. I needed my mom to help me, to pick up the slack with my toddler while also being pregnant, and she just didn’t .

Luke shook his head, “She didn’t say she was, but I mean, you know her. She’s shown up here randomly a couple of times.”

I forced myself to smile. It wasn’t my brother’s fault that our mother was difficult. “It’s okay. She would have found out sooner or later. It’s alright.”

I could see his entire body relax. “I’ll make it up to you if she does show up. I’ll be your buffer.”

“That would be appreciated,” I told him as Kingston trotted into the dining room.

Luke turned his attention to him, switching to his uncle's voice, “Hey buddy.”

“What are you doing, Uncle Luke? Are we playing?” Kingston asked him, his eyes wide.

Luke shrugged, bending down on one knee so they were at eye level. “I’m just going to go hang out with my friend Zander. We were going to watch a movie, but do you guys want to play in the sprinkler? He has such a big yard!”

Kingston jumped up and down. “Yes, sprinkler,” and then looked at me, “Let’s go, Mama.”

“Your friend is okay with them coming? He doesn’t seem like the kid type.”

“He loves kids,” Luke said, picking Kingston up and throwing him over his shoulder. “I can take them over, and you can stay here if you want?”

The offer tempted me, but I wanted to see Zander. No, not Zander, but the house. I wanted to see the house. So I said, “I’ll go, at least for a little while, to see the house again.”

“You’re smitten, aren’t you?” he joked.

“So, what if I am,” I said, bristling because while I was smitten by the house, I was starting to be interested in the owner, too.

The house was still beautiful, exactly where I could see myself living. I stood in the kitchen while the boys were playing in the backyard. Zander and Luke were out there, getting the sprinkler set up. It was not a sprinkler for kids, just something you’d use to water your grass, but the kids were still excited. It didn’t make a difference to them. The clear glass of water in my hands was chilled, and I wrapped both hands around it as I watched them. The boys were watching the setup so intensely. Zander kneeled, twisting the sprinkler into the hose, and my eyes caught the defined muscles in his arm. I couldn’t stop staring, and my cheeks blushed.

He stood and turned back to the house. Afraid that he would see me, I abruptly turned around. I let my head hang down and chuckled to myself. I don’t know if I could have made what I had been doing more obvious. I put down my glass and grabbed my book. I was going to get some reading in while the boys played, and the older boys did whatever they were planning on doing.

The French doors were already open, and I slipped through them as the water turned on. The boys squealed and started to jump through it, although Kingston was more running around it than jumping through it. It was probably freezing. I figured they’d play in it for maybe twenty minutes before being too cold to keep going. I sat in one of the lounge chairs facing the backyard and opened my book. I had left off right after a particularly spicy part between my ranch-hand cowboy and the pretty city girl. Zander and Luke stepped onto the patio, and I forced myself to keep my eyes on my book. I did not need to check Zander out again. I knew what he looked like. Knew that he was handsome, so what? Get over it.

“Mom, look,” I heard Christian yell, and I looked up. He jumped through the water stream again, and I gave him a thumbs up, which we’d done since he was little. Christian ran up the stairs, dripping water, and began to fall forward, letting out a little cry. I lunged forward simultaneously as Zander grabbed him with both hands. I moved toward them, my heart pounding. I wasn’t a helicopter mom. I used to be after Jack died. But I’d learned to let my children work on their independence. It was good for them and me. Christian didn’t cry. Instead, he looked up at Zander and said, “I’m okay!”

“You sure, buddy?”

Christian smiled and met my eyes before running back down the stairs and into the grass. Zander stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. I watched him, noticing how large his hands were and how dark his jeans were. The jeans somehow made him seem taller. “That’s one tough kid.”

“He sure is,” I responded, trying to refocus myself. “Sorry if we crashed your bro time. My brother said the boys could come, and trying to backtrack with a toddler isn’t a fun experience.”

“It’s fine. Do you want to come inside? I was gonna put on a movie, but we could find a kid one, too.” Zander’s voice was light and friendly.

I did want to go inside to look at the house. To plan for how I’d decorate, but he hadn’t responded to the offer yet. Maybe he would disagree. Maybe this house wouldn’t be ours. But I also wanted to go in and look at him, which would only complicate things. “I don’t know, I’ll just stay out here.”

He watched me for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.”

I sat back in the chair, holding my book with both hands. The boys were grabbing rocks, stacking them as high as they could in the shape of a mountain. The time would have been well spent writing and working on my stunted novel, but I didn’t want to try it today. Instead, I glanced inside the large windows and saw Luke standing, his phone to his ear. He was on his phone a lot lately, which had to mean business was good.

I heard the door click open and turned to see Zander walking toward me with a white plate in hand. He smiled softly and sat, placing the plate in between us. “Your brother needs to learn to leave his phone on do not disturb.”

The plate was filled with meats, different kinds of cheese, and delicious buttery-looking crackers. Zander started to take some food. “Can I ask you an intrusive question?” I said before second-guessing myself.

He looked up at me, his eyes wide. “Oh, jeez. I guess so.”

“Why’d you retire from football?”

Zander took a bite and then turned his head toward the yard. He was going to make me wait for the answer. I watched him, his dark hair pushed back from his face. “Let me guess, you googled me?”

I shook my head, “No, but maybe I should do that. I saw the photos, and my brother mentioned that you were retired.”

He laughed, and the sound was warm. “Man, that’s a hard question. Football was my life and the center of everything I did. But it got to the point where I just didn’t love it anymore. I hated practice and the lifestyle of being in the public eye. We had a good season, not great, but my stats were good, and I decided to retire. Better than waiting until I was too injured to keep going, I guess.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I do, funny enough,” Zander held a cracker between his fingers, “But I’ve realized I don’t miss the league or playing for the big teams. Or the entertainment of it, but I just miss the game.”

I grabbed a piece of cheddar cheese and placed it on a cracker. “Maybe you could coach?” I suggested before taking a small bite.

Zander nodded, taking a bite of his cracker. “So, I know what your brother has told me about you, but can I ask you an intrusive question now?”

My chest tightened, figuring the question would revolve around Jack. I’d gotten better about talking about him, about being a widow. But it was still hard. The ache was still there. Just dimmer. “Sure.”

“Why do you want my house?”

I chuckled, the question surprising me. “I don’t know if I’d call that intrusive.” Zander smiled at me, and my eyes felt glued to his face. The strong nose and the cut of his chin. His skin wasn’t tanned but looked warm in the sunlight. “My boys and I are starting over, I guess. I want a home for them always to come back to. To be their safe spot, and this house feels like it could be just that.”

“How long ago did your husband die?” His question was soft, but my breath stilled at his use of the word die. Most people said pass.

“Almost three years ago. In a couple of months.” Zander’s eyes went to my two boys, and I could feel the next question coming. “He died when I was pregnant with Kingston.”

“Wow, that’s terrible,” and his words felt genuine. I nodded, not sure what else to say. I don’t remember many of those early days or even the first year after Jack died. My therapist told me it was my brain’s way of protecting me, but I knew I’d missed out on precious moments with my two boys.

Moments I would never get back. “How did your husband die?” I looked over at Zander, whose eyes were on me. His gaze was intense, piercing almost, and I cracked a smile. “I see your strategy. You start with the least intrusive question and then make them more and more intrusive.” He shrugged, and I grabbed a piece of what looked like salami off the plate. “He died in a car crash on the way to work. They said it was instantaneous. No pain. I hadn’t thought anything was wrong until the cops were at the door instead of him coming home from work.”

Zander shook his head. “My dad died when I was young, not as young as your boys, but I remember the toll it took on my mom. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, it definitely has been difficult.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know?” His words came out in a rush.

“Do what?” I asked, watching him.

He met my gaze, and my pulse began to quicken. “Pretend like it wasn’t the worst thing you could have ever imagined happening to you. You don’t have to pretend to be all fixed. I think grief is something people don’t understand. It never goes away.”

I was taken aback. The weight of his words hit me square in the chest. I was pretending, always pretending. I had to pretend for my boys. They needed me to be the best version of myself, even if I wasn’t. I pulled my eyes away from his, their deep green making my cheeks heat. “I appreciate that. I feel like I have to, though. People accept that you’re grieving for a certain time, and then you need to be over it. ”

“The stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Zander scoffed and grabbed another piece of cheese. He took a bite, and I wanted to know more.

More about him, about how he knew exactly how I felt about grief and the process of growing with grief. I opened my mouth to ask him a question when the door behind us opened, and my brother stepped onto the patio. “Sorry about that, Zand.”

Zander glanced over his shoulder. “No big deal. Just talking with your sister, the soon-to-be owner of this house.”

“Not so sure about that,” I retorted.

He looked at me, widening his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“You haven’t responded to my offer.”

“Right. I’m trying to decide when I want to move. I guess we should talk about that. I was hoping to spend the rest of the summer here. Could you wait to move in until the end of summer?” Zander asked, and something inside me squirmed. I wanted to be in our own space now. But I could wait. It just meant being in the same town as Zander all summer. Zander, with his green eyes and wisdom on grief,

Luke stood in front of our chairs. “Would you take ten grand off the price?” he asked his friend.

“Definitely.”

I met Luke’s eyes, and he raised his eyebrows. “Not a bad deal. ”

“Okay, I can do that. We’ve already got our rental for the summer anyway.” Luke chuckled, and I held out my hand so Zander could shake it. His gaze was firm before placing his hand in mine. His skin was rough and scratched against my palm, tingling my insides. I pulled out of his grip faster than I should have, but it was too much—that feeling. I hadn’t felt that way in so long, not since Jack.

“Luke, get the paperwork started, and let’s sell this house,” Zander said, and I felt his gaze on me as I stood. I wanted to put some distance between us, but I needed to.

I wasn’t ready for those feelings. To start something in that realm. My boys were my priority, nothing else: only my boys. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how my body had tingled and how refreshing it had felt.