Until Winter Breaks

  Behind them, the crash of waves against the shore provided a romantic chorus. Inside, Jared felt the same swell and ebb as the ocean, the same rise and fall of his breathing. He finally drew back, putting a sliver of space between his mouth and hers.

  She kept her eyes closed and her hands on the back of his neck. Likewise, he remained still, unable to relinquish the hold he had on her body.

  “I don’t want to go shopping tonight either.” His voice came out rusty, like it hadn’t been used in a while. “Take me home?”

  She finally opened her eyes, where Jared saw the passion she worked so hard to conceal. He found hurt there too, a strange vulnerability he didn’t understand, along with an edge of happiness.

  “You have the keys,” she said. “You’re going to have to take me home.”

  “Not a problem, sweetheart.” But he didn’t move, didn’t want to let go of her, of this moment, yet.

  “How long—?” she started at the same time he said, “You’re beautiful.”

  She blinked, obviously unused to receiving compliments. Or maybe she just didn’t know how to take them from him.

  “Too bad we couldn’t get to the hardware store on time,” he said to cover his blunder. “We’ll have to go tomorrow night.” He stepped away and unlocked the doors. As he held hers open for her, he added, “Maybe you’ll let me take you to Arcata. There’s sure to be a greater selection of supplies.” He closed the door before she could answer.

  He hurried around the front and slid into the driver’s seat, wondering if she’d been joking about letting him take her home.

  “We can go to Arcata tomorrow,” Millie said. “But you better eat dinner before we go so it doesn’t turn into a date.”

  He started the ignition, his laughter as loud as the engine turning over. “You’re considering tonight a date?”

  Panic paraded across Millie’s face. “Well, I mean—”

  “Don’t worry,” he told her as he set the car on the highway. “I won’t tell anyone. Your reputation will remain untarnished.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard rumors about my…dating history. If you heard I left town at sixteen, you certainly heard about that.”

  Millie folded her arms, which meant she had heard of his many girlfriends. Great. One more thing to set right.

  “Who’s Carla?” she asked as he pulled into her driveway.

  A chill drifted across Jared’s skin though neither of them had opened their doors. He exhaled, mentally berating himself for speaking her name. He hadn’t been able to think it without familiar bitterness sprouting in him, but tonight, with Millie, he hadn’t thought of the consequences. Hadn’t thought of her reaction, of how much he’d have to explain. He simply hadn’t thought.

  He hadn’t felt anything either. No anger. No helplessness. Nothing.

  “Jared?” Millie touched his arm, and he quickly covered her fingers with his opposite hand.

  “She’s my ex-girlfriend. From Denver. We were together for three years.” His voice sounded disembodied, like he’d hired a narrator for his past. “One day, everything was fine. The next, it wasn’t. She said she didn’t want me. And I’d just lost my job, and then her, and that’s why I sold almost everything I owned and begged Sophie to let me stay here.”

  Millie allowed three heartbeats of silence to cover his admission. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  He killed the engine and got out of the car, fully intending to walk her to the door and kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.

  Under the halo of her porch light, Jared brushed her hair from her face. “Thanks for a great date.” He kept his voice light and teasing, but knew from the intense look on her face that the emotion hadn’t quite reached his eyes.

  “You said I could take you home,” he said when she still hadn’t moved or spoken. “Is this an invitation to come in?” Because he wouldn’t say no. He had nothing waiting for him next door except emptiness and bottled water.

  “When did you and Carla break up?”

  Jared took a step back from the weight of her question. “I don’t know. Like, a couple of months ago.”

  The possibility of kissing her shrank as her lips flattened. Jared reached for the doorknob behind her, unsurprised to find the front door unlocked. This was Redwood Bay, after all.

  “What time will you be heading into work tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Ten.” Her voice ghosted between her lips, which barely opened to allow the sound to escape. She glanced over her shoulder into the dark house. She’d left a light on in the kitchen, but murkiness blanketed most of the living room.

  “Ten it is.” He moved to go down the stairs, half relieved and half disappointed, when she said, “Goodnight, Jared.”

  Because of the tenderness with which she’d handled his name, he turned, took her in his arms, and touched his lips to hers. He kept the kiss chaste and broke their connection long before he wanted to. “Ten o’clock.” He hurried into the night, willing it to swallow him before he threw all reason into the depths of the ocean. She wasn’t ready for anything more—heck, judging by the look he’d just seen in her eyes, she wasn’t even ready to kiss him. She didn’t even like him. And yet, a tether drew them together, one moment at a time, electrifying when they touched. He’d felt it, and he hadn’t experienced anything like it in a long time.

  Maybe ever.

  He slammed the front door and pressed his back against it. His heart galloped like he’d just conquered a monster wave and ran up the beach. He didn’t understand the fear flowing through him, just like he hadn’t comprehended her vulnerability earlier.

  He’d kissed beautiful women before. He didn’t particularly like Millie either. So why was he loitering in the dark, worried he’d moved too fast, scared she might not let him renovate her shop, paralyzed by the thought of a future without her?

  Jared forced himself across the living room and into the kitchen. The house was exactly as empty as he’d imagined. Now that he’d kissed Millie, being alone pushed against him stronger than it had before. He pressed back, creating a bubble big enough for him to breathe—at least for now.

  * * *

  At dawn Jared found himself back in the ocean. The storm from days ago hadn’t returned, and as the sky lightened by degrees, Jared let the waves push-pull, push-pull, push-pull against him. His thoughts followed the same pattern, drifting from his job at the law firm, to Carla, to his father. Jared had failed in all those things, though he wasn’t responsible for the botched case that had prompted his termination.

  That had been Mister Hawkins himself, though the senior partner certainly wasn’t going to take the fall for something he could pin on someone else––especially if that someone else was only an associate. No matter if that associate was nearly engaged to his daughter.

  As the water pulled away from the beach, Jared let his resentment go with it. Carla had been forced to break up with Jared. Still didn’t make the situation hurt less, but the betrayal didn’t drive as deeply as it once had.

  Cocooned in the calm ocean, Jared pretended he could fix things with his dad too. He stayed in the waves for another hour, but the familiar hate, frustration, fury, helplessness he harbored because of what his father said, did, didn’t say, didn’t do, never washed away.

  * * *

  Millie placed her mug of orange blossom tea on the table before returning to the kitchen for a broom. Back through her bedroom to the balcony she loved, Millie swept away the sand and leaves, the last remnants of the storm.

  She righted the single chair at the small table and settled in for her morning jolt of caffeine. She craved these moments of solitude when the world wasn’t quite awake yet, when the sky still slumbered, when she could forget about her past pains, when she could simply be a woman sipping tea.

  Touching the mug to her lips reminded her of the stroke of Jared’s mouth against hers. She hadn’t meant to kiss him. Didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about
her, about what she thought of him.

  She’d simply have to set him straight as soon as she saw him. After all, she wasn’t interested in being Jared’s rebound.

  Two months destroyed the calmness of the morning. Her tea suddenly scalded her too-tight throat, and she set the mug aside just as a lean figure pulled himself out of the ocean and lumbered up the beach.

  Millie almost abandoned her tea and rushed inside. She forced herself to stay on her balcony. She would not allow Jared Newton to change her routine, even if the sight of him with a surfboard tucked under one muscled arm made her chest hum like her sewing machine.

  The moment he saw her, his step faltered, slowed, fumbled, stuttered. Though he remained a healthy distance away––way down at the mouth of his driveway––a wave of heat flooded her. She couldn’t seem to move so much as a pinky finger. A simple blink would’ve broken the spell between them, but she couldn’t manage that either. He seemed as frozen as she was.

  Finally, she brought her traitorous eyelids together. The tether between them snapped. Jared continued up his driveway, lifting his free hand into a casual wave, his lips curling upward. All Millie could think about was how they felt against hers.

  She knocked her teacup to its side as she raised her hand to acknowledge him. The orange blossom tea drip, drip, dripped onto her freshly swept balcony as he disappeared into his garage.

  Millie righted her cup and sagged against the back of her chair. Hours remained before she’d have to see him again, and––somehow––she felt the time until then was too long, while at the same time wishing it would never come.

  * * *

  “Morning,” he said when she exited her house. She’d seen him arrive ten minutes ago. He hadn’t knocked and, though she was ready for work, she’d waited until precisely ten o’clock before opening the front door.

  “Enjoy your swim?” she asked, cringing at the frost in her voice.

  “Yes.” He joined her as she moved down the stairs. He increased his speed so he arrived to her door before she did. As he held it open for her, she caught his gaze.

  “Look,” she started.

  “Oh boy. Here we go.” He broke eye contact and glanced back toward the ocean like he’d rather be tangled in the waves than anywhere near her.

  “What does that mean?” she demanded.

  “You start a lot of sentences that way,” he said. “And none of them are very nice.” He brought his eyes back to hers, and surprise shot through her when she realized how hard of an edge they carried.

  “I just need to set something straight.”

  He gestured for her to go on, his hand coming dangerously close to her hip. Her body flinched toward him, the traitorous thing.

  She rose onto her toes to try to even out their heights. “I’m not interested in being your rebound.”

  He jerked like she’s slapped him. A low sound ground out of his throat. Millie thought it could’ve been a chuckle, but she categorized it as a growl. He cut off the noise as quickly as he’d started, opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again.

  He bowed, his eyes shooting daggers, turned, and walked away.

  “Where are you going?” she called after him, but he didn’t break his stride or look back.

  Millie stared after him, the press of tears close by. She swiped at her nose. Ridiculous. She had not cried over a man since Brady’s funeral. One measly kiss with Jared Newton wasn’t about to turn her into a blubberer. Fine, two kisses. Maybe three. She’d lost count after the first one at the wharf, because it was so spontaneous, so stunning, so spectacular.

  Her humiliation zigzagged into anger, and she slammed the car door before stomping back to her house. She locked and dead-bolted the door behind her and stood in her living room, chest heaving. She fumbled for her phone.

  “Sadie,” she said when her friend answered. Thankfully, her voice didn’t sound like an Army general’s. “Can you come for lunch today?”

  “Lucy’s?” Sadie asked.

  Millie heard the whir of the cappuccino machine behind her friend and the clatter of coffee cups.

  “No, my place,” Millie said, pulling the curtains across the front window. “I’m not going into work today.”

  “How did things go with Jared last night? You never answered my text.”

  “I’ll tell you at lunch.”

  A lengthy pause came through the line. Millie imagined her best friend in the loft apartment she shared with her husband. She and Sadie often reminisced over happier times in the quaint sunroom, swapped stories of lost loves, shared secrets of what they wished for their futures.

  “Millie—”

  “I changed my mind.” Millie’s voice nearly caught on itself. “Can I come to your place for lunch? I’ll bring salads from Lucy’s.”

  “Sure,” Sadie said, and Millie heard the feigned nonchalance in her voice. “Lance is on the docks all day. I’m expecting the full report on you and Dreamtastic.”

  “Okay.” Millie swallowed as she hung up. Swallowed as she surveyed her empty house. Swallowed as her phone vibrated in her palm.

  Choked as Jared’s name came up, along with a message. You’re not coming to work today?

  She graced him with a one-word answer. No.

  She’d cleaned her non-dirty kitchen, vacuumed her not-walked-on floors, swept her unused back patio before her phone buzzed again.

  That kiss was not a rebound, for the official record.

  Jared.

  Her heart seemed to be beating his name. Ja-jared. Ja-jared. Ja-jared.

  Millie wanted to let her fingers fly, type out the rumors she’d heard about him. How one summer he’d kissed a different girl every day for a month. How he broke hearts left and right, up and down. How he’d had three girlfriends inside of a week, just before he left town without a word.

  Whatever you’ve heard about me and girls, it isn’t true, came his next text. And I would never do anything to hurt you.

  She read and reread his messages, desperate to believe him. Or maybe she was just desperate.

  Her thumbs hovered over the keypad, but they received no direction from her brain. Jared’s mind seemed to be humming along, because another text arrived.

  I’m at your shop fixing the roof. I’ll be here all day, and I have a surprise for you. If you want to come see it.

  Millie wanted to witness every one of his surprises, sure each would be more glorious than the last.

  Her phone remained silent after that, and it was the first thing she handed to Sadie when she arrived for lunch. “Tell me what to do.” Millie had managed to keep the tears contained as she cleaned, but now, here, in this place where she’d regularly let her guard down, a single tear trickled out of the corner of her eye.

  She wiped it away quickly while Sadie read her texts. She looked up at Millie with wide eyes. “You kissed him? I thought you said you were just going shopping for supplies.”

  Millie moaned even though the memory of kissing Jared was catalogued in her mind under meaningful things never to be forgotten.

  She related the previous night’s events to Sadie, then what had happened this morning. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Sadie settled next to Millie on the sofa. “I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  Sadie stood and strode into the sunroom, taking one of the wicker seats and waiting while Millie followed with their lunch.

  “I think you should go over to your shop.” Sadie twirled the spoon in her leftover coffee cup. “See what Jared’s surprise is.”

  “He rubs me the wrong way,” Millie said.

  “That’s why he’s perfect for you.”

  Millie scoffed. “So I’m destined to be with someone who annoys me? If I go over there today, I know I’ll hate his surprise.”

  Sadie nudged Millie’s phone toward her. “Bet you didn’t hate kissing him.”

  Millie tossed her hair over her
shoulder. “He caught me in a weak moment. He’d shared some personal things about himself, spent an hour talking about renovating my shop, and paid for dinner. Naturally—”

  “Wait a second.” Sadie held up a perfectly manicured fingernail. “Paid for dinner? Engaging conversation? A kiss afterward? You went on a date with him!”

  Millie started to protest, but the words she needed to deny Sadie’s statement wouldn’t form. “It was a weak moment.”

  Sadie got up and turned away from Millie, a tactic Millie had seen before.

  “Sounds like a whole date’s worth of weak moments, if you ask me.” The words escaped from barely open lips, making them sound smashed together.

  “No one asked you.”

  “You did.” Sadie turned and pinned her with a pointed look. “You said to tell you—”

  “I know what I said.” Millie cradled her head in her hands. “How is it possible to be attracted to someone and want to punch them at the same time?”

  Sadie’s laughter usually cleansed Millie’s mind, helped her see exactly what needed to be done. But as the last of Sadie’s giggles died, Millie still had no solution to the situation. She popped the lid from one salad and slid it to Sadie.

  She drenched her lettuce in dressing, something she’d normally never do. Just like she’d never take the time to renovate her shop, or kiss a man just two days after meeting him. Even as she ate, she couldn’t help feeling like it was about time she did something she hadn’t done in a long, long time—and that might include letting someone new into her life.

  * * *

  Millie trolled the street in front of her shop, scoping the place out like she had when checking to see if boys were home as a teenager. But Jared wasn’t hard to spot. His lean form on her roof was a welcome addition to the skyline. She pulled into a parking spot down the block and gathered herself together by looking into the rearview mirror and saying, “Don’t argue with him.”

  She got out and had taken two steps toward the front door when the shocking purple color stopped her. Her shop’s door was purple. And not the tacky shade of purple that made her think of Barney, but the light, lovely, luscious purple she’d worn to her sister’s wedding three years ago.