The Coast is Clear (Breakaway Shores #1)

Izzy

Questions

I wasn’t sure if it was the warmth in the air or the sand between my toes, but the ache in my head began to lessen. It couldn’t be Zander walking quietly beside me. I had hoped that walking beside the crashing waves would help calm my desire for him, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, I felt more aware of him. His arm brushed against mine over and over.

Zander’s hands were loose at his sides as we walked, but I kept my grip tight on my purse strap. I wanted to hold his hand again, to feel it on my skin. All over my skin. That was a line that I wasn’t sure I’d make it back from crossing. I wasn’t sure my boys would either. They’d already grown to care about him, asking about him when I half expected them not to think about him daily.

“So, did you grow up here, or did your husband?” Zander asked, and the question sobered me quickly.

Jack.

“We both spent our summers here. We grew up in Portland, but our families each had houses here. We were very fortunate. However, my parents sold theirs when I was in high school so they could pay off their house. And then Jack and I connected again in college.”

Zander nodded, the crashing of the waves filling the silence. “Is it strange to be back here now? After my brother died, I found it interesting to go to places where he had been or where we had been together. It felt wrong that things were still the same, but he was gone.” I looked at him with shock, my mouth dropping open. “Oh no, did I say something wrong?” he asked quickly.

I shook my head, “No, I just didn’t know your brother died.”

A flash of something I couldn’t quite decipher moved across his face. “I just figured Luke would have told you. Since you seemed to know so much about me when we met.” The words came out more playful at the end.

“He didn’t,” I offered him a small smile. “What happened?”

Zander points to a long log sitting in the sand. “Let’s sit and we can play a game.”

“A game?” I couldn’t remember the last time I played a game.

“Yeah, a question for a question.”

“Okay.”

The waves licked up the sand near my boots. “My brother was a single dad when he died. His wife had left them when his daughter was little.”

“Why did she leave? I hate that so much. How old was his daughter when he died?”

Zander chuckled. “That was two questions. But yes, it wasn’t his plan. He turned things around to be there for Delaney. She was his world. But then, he went to sleep one night and never woke up. It was…” His eyes were on the ground as he drifted off, “shocking.”

I didn’t know what to say. It never felt genuine when people told me they were sorry for my loss. Or when someone told me I should be grateful to know I’ll see my husband again. Or the always hard to swallow: everything happens for a reason . But I had never needed people’s platitudes. I just needed them to be there. So all I said was, “I’m sorry.”

“What’s your favorite holiday?” Zander asked, and I was surprised by the change of topic. He smirked at me, “Let me ask my two questions.”

“Okay,” I tried to think of the answer. Before Jack died, it was Christmas, hands down. But now Christmas was just brutal. It was lonely and exhausting to be the only one doing everything. “Maybe Thanksgiving? I can order a pizza or something, and the boys are happy.”

“Solid answer. What is something you’ve always wanted to do? ”

“What?”

“Seriously? I feel like it’s kind of self-explanatory.”

I hesitated. “I guess I haven’t thought like that in a long time. It’s hard to do things for myself right now.”

Zander touched my knee, his touch so light I could barely feel it, “So think about it now. The boys are getting ready to stuff their faces with popcorn at the movies right now. What would you do if you got two hours to yourself without worrying about someone else, clean, or walk with some guy your brother knows?”

I laughed and watched the waves ahead of us. He was more than that, and I couldn’t deny that.

What would I want to do? Just for me. Something that I liked. “I almost said writing, but I’m stuck there right now. That’s been my job lately, you know? I used to do it for fun until everything went--well. That’s another story. I’m under contract for one more book and need to work on it, so maybe that? Maybe that would be good for me. But I’d also love to get a massage. Just to be alone for a couple of hours and have no one need anything from me would be nice.”

“What happened with the book thing?” Zander asked, his hand still on my knee, and I wanted to touch him. Wanted to place my fingers in between his.

“The book thing. Well, I self-published my first book. I had tried to be published traditionally for years, but it never worked out. So, I published my book and then one week after I did, Jack died. I’m not even sure how it happened. I had posted a couple of things about how my husband had died, and I was going to postpone some of my readings and different marketing things that I had planned. And then, everything just blew up,” Zander’s eyes widened, “In a good way. My sales went through the roof. People loved the story, which was a romance and I kept writing. It was so therapeutic in those early days of grief to live in a completely different world than the one I had found myself in. Then, I had a couple of agents reach out to me, and before I knew it, I was represented and had an actual book deal. My next book came out when Kingston was a year and a half and did great. Better than great. But now, as I try to write this third book. I’ve finished half of it but can’t find any more words. I keep wondering if all of my success was just because Jack died.” It’s the first time I’ve said the words aloud, said them to someone else instead of just shoving them back down whenever they pop up in my head.

“If that were true, your second book probably would have tanked.” Zander was watching the waves as he spoke, and I let my eyes rove over his features. His dark hair was moving just slightly in the wind. He turned, meeting my eyes, and felt so close to me. “I just mean, if it was purely about the spectacle and not your writing or storytelling, I bet your second book wouldn’t have done well.”

Without thinking, I moved my hand and placed it on his. He didn’t react except to make space for my fingers to intertwine. “Where are you planning on moving after the summer? ”

Zander’s head fell forward, and his fingers squeezed mine ever-so-slightly. I felt an ever-so-slight flutter in my stomach. “Truthfully, I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know where I’m going to move.”

“Just a hard life, being rich and having nothing and no one to nail you down in one place,” I joked, but it came out more pointed than I thought it would. I bumped his shoulder to try and lighten my words.

“What made you decide to move back here?” he asked, pulling our intertwined hands onto his thigh. His thigh .

I had to look back out at the waves, my insides churning. I wanted to move closer to him, but it was hard to allow myself to. To take that leap, to move forward with another man. A man who wasn’t Jack. “My in-laws moved away, and they were a big help to me. They’d babysit or grocery shop or help me fix things. They were great, but their other son had a baby, and they moved closer to them.”

“That’s… I’m not sure what the right word for that is.”

“Yeah, but I figured it was time to find a place where I had reliable support and start to figure out this whole truly single-mom thing.” It felt scary to admit that out loud, too. My brother was happy to help, and I knew that. But I hated asking for it. I hated admitting that I was in a place where I needed help. I’d been taught all my life to be strong, and it seemed so backward to admit that I wasn’t always strong.

I felt emboldened by our honesty, by the feeling of his calloused skin on mine. “Who is Dee?”

Zander’s head popped up, and he had an inkling of a smile. “Dee?” He laughed and nudged me with his shoulder, “Dee is my brother’s daughter. Delaney. But I guess she’s kind of my daughter, too. In a way.”

I twisted my torso, needing to face him to take in this information entirely. “Your daughter, too? How?”

“When my brother died, he had a will. He’d put me down for caring for Delaney, which was ridiculous. I was twenty-two years old and had just finished college. It was my first year in the league. It was not the time for me to have a kid. But Dee’s mom didn’t want her. She signed away her rights without any pushback, and I became her legal guardian. Luckily, I had a lot of money to help me find great help taking care of her when she wasn’t in school. My mom was a huge help, too. She went to college last year and is such a good kid.” Zander smiled, his eyes holding mine.

“So that’s why you’re so good with Christian and Kingston.”

I’d thought about moving on so many times since Jack had died. Not because I wanted to or felt ready to, but because I knew I’d have to someday. Someday, I’d be prepared, and deep down, I knew that Jack would want it for me. He wouldn’t want me to be alone forever. He’d want me to be happy and loved again. I never felt like anyone could fill that spot, or rather the shadow of Jack. No one would be able to make me feel comfortable like that again. But at that moment, I could feel a glimmer of it. A glimmer of something cozy, something that I wanted more of. “Would you like to get something to eat?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Zander smiled and stood, bringing our hands with him. “I’d like that.”

I let him lead me up the steep path. I glanced back at the horizon, the cloudy gray skies mixing with the water's edge. A tiny ray of sunlight came through a break in the clouds and something about it settled something in me. This was okay. It was going to be okay.