Three years ago, I wouldn’t have considered it. I liked my quiet apartment, my routine. But sitting here, looking at a man who’d married his high school sweetheart and built a life that was full—messy, but full—I felt that ache for something lasting, something mine.
“I might, one day,” I said.
“You’re still a ... what do they call it these days? Heard my son say it and nearly sent him to his room.Fuckboy. They call it fuckboy these days.” He chuckled nervously, as if cool-kids’ slang still felt like shoes a size too big for him.
“Um, no. I don’t think I’m one.” I sipped my beer.
Brandon grinned suddenly. “You’re still friends with Ruby?”
“Yeah.” I kept my eyes on the bottles behind the bar.
“Heard you were helping her with the inn. Staying there. Ellie’s friend—oh, you know her—Heather! Remember Heather? Man, I had a crush on her. Who didn’t?”
I didn’t.
“Anyway, she’s with Ellie in pickleball and told her she ran into you. Asked about you, actually. She’s twice divorced now,” he said, lowering his voice like it was classified intel.
“Yeah, I help her with some engineering stuff.” I took another sip. Anything I’d say would go straight to his wife and from there to the entire town.
Brandon gave me a teasing look. “So that friend thing ... you’re not just friends, right? Like you go to bed together and ...?”
It was almost endearing how the man couldn’t finish the sentence without turning red.
“Yeah,” I said wryly. “Maybe Iamjust a fuckboy.”
Brandon laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Nah, man. Enjoy it while you can. Family, kids—not everyone gets there at the same time. You will when it fits, I’m sure. If you want, just say the word, and I can think of five women from the top of my head that Ellie and I can set you up with.”
I smiled, appreciating the easy confidence in his tone. We weren’t close, but it felt good to sit beside someone who’d already built the kind of life I was craving.
35
Ruby
“COME TO THINK OF IT, I’ve never actually stayed here overnight,” I said as Evangeline locked the door behind Rio and Daphne.
“Remember the night we all stayed at the inn?” Eve asked with a nostalgic smile.
“That was fun, wasn’t it? It happened more than once, actually. Not always with the three of you, but Rio stayed over a couple times when she was too tired to drive or when Daphne told her she’d had enough margaritas to justify a DUI.”
“We should do it again sometime.” Eve headed to the sink to rinse the wine glasses while I fluffed up the pillows on her couch.
“Deal. When this damn renovation’s finally done, you’re all coming over.”
“What about Rio’s wedding?” she asked, dropping an empty wine bottle in the recycling bin.
I stacked the empty plates. “She and Owen want to set a date soon. I told her any day in November would be perfect.”
“If they can wait that long.”
“It’s not like they’re abstaining until the wedding.”
Eve laughed. “No, but sometimes you just want to belong to each other so badly ...” She trailed off with a sigh, standing still in the middle of her kitchen. Then she shook herself, gathering dirty napkins and empty containers. “Maybe her wedding can double as an inauguration party for the inn. Oh! I already have a dozen ideas for the flower arrangements.” She paused again, eyes going dreamy.
“How you survived being the only girl in the electronics track while secretly obsessing with flowers, I’ll never understand.”
Eve tied up a trash bag. “I was good at math, and Rachel thought it would give me a chance at a career. She never thoughtI’dend up being the one running their flower shop.”
Rachel—her stepmother’s sister—had taken Eve in when she was ten. Eve’s family story was complicated, to put it mildly. Her mom had died when she was little, her dad had remarried, and then both he and her stepmom were killed in a car accident. With no other family, social services placed her in Coral Bay with Rachel and Pete Holmes—her stepmom’s relatives—and she’d been here ever since.
