A beach house beginning, p.2
A Beach House Beginning, page 2
Jenna tried not to gape at him. Why was he being so nice to her, when she hadn’t exactly thrown out the welcome mat for him?
“I...that would be very kind. Thank you.”
“Give me a second to pull my truck around.”
“What’s wrong with the car? Is it broken?” Addie asked from the back seat after Wes moved to his pickup truck and climbed inside, then started doing multiple-point turns to put it in position for jumper cables to reach her battery from his.
“The battery is dead. Our nice neighbor Mr. Calhoun is going to try to help us get it started.”
“I can’t be late today. I have to give my book report first thing.”
“Hopefully we can still make it in time,” she answered, as Wes turned off his truck and released the hood latch, then climbed out, rummaged behind the seats for some jumper cables and started hooking things up.
“What do I need to do?” she asked, feeling awkward and clueless. She had needed to have a vehicle jumped a few times before, early in her marriage, but Ryan had always taken care of those kind of things for her. She should have paid more attention to the process.
“Nothing yet. I’ll tell you when to try starting it again.”
He hooked up the cables, then fired up his truck before coming back to her car. “Okay. Let’s give it a go and see what happens.”
Mentally crossing her fingers, she pushed the ignition button. To her vast relief, the engine turned for a second or two, then burst into life.
“Yay!” Addie exclaimed. “Does that mean we don’t have to walk to school?”
“We would have found a ride somehow,” Jenna assured her. “But it looks like we’ve been rescued, thanks to Mr. Calhoun.”
“Thanks, Mr. Calhoun. I have to give a report this morning on a book about bees and didn’t want to be late.”
“You’re very welcome. You can call me Wes, by the way. You don’t have to call me Mr. Calhoun.”
Her daughter beamed at him, unfazed by that hard, unsmiling face. “Thanks, Wes.”
“You can as well,” he said to Jenna. Their gazes met and she couldn’t help noticing how long his dark eyelashes were, an odd contrast to the hard planes of his features.
“Thank you, Wes,” she forced herself to say. “I really appreciate the help.”
“It was no problem. I’ll grab a battery for you today. Do you have jumper cables, in case your car doesn’t start after you’re done at school today?”
She was relieved she could answer in the affirmative. “Yes. I have an emergency kit in back with flares, a flashlight and a blanket, along with a few tools and jumper cables.”
“Good. With any luck, you might not need them.”
“Thanks again for all your help.”
He shrugged. “It’s the kind of thing neighbors do for each other, right?”
His words filled her with guilt. She hadn’t been very neighborly in the two weeks since he had moved in. She hadn’t taken any goodies over to welcome him and did little more than nod politely in passing.
Was he being ironic? Had he noticed how she went out of her way to avoid him whenever possible?
She hoped he didn’t notice how her face flushed with heat as she mustered a smile that faded quickly as she backed out of the driveway and turned in the direction of school.
* * *
Wes watched his pretty neighbor maneuver her little blue SUV onto the road toward the elementary school.
When he was certain her vehicle wasn’t going to conk out on the road, he returned his pickup to its customary spot and climbed back onto his Harley.
It might be easier to take the truck today but he was in the mood for a bike ride, which was just about the only thing that could do anything at all to calm his restlessness.
That was an odd turn for his morning to take, but he was happy to help out, even if Jenna Haynes looked at him out of those big blue eyes like she was afraid he was about to drag her by her hair up the stairs to his apartment and lock her in his sex dungeon.
He might have found her skittishness a little amusing if he hadn’t spent the past three years in company with people capable of that and so much worse.
It still burned under his skin how she and others considered him. An ex-con. Not an innocent man wrongfully convicted because of a betrayal but someone who had probably been exactly where he belonged. Even if he hadn’t done the particular crime that had put him behind bars, he was no doubt guilty of something, right?
He hated it, that pearl-clutching, self-righteous, condemnatory attitude he had encountered since his release. After two months on the outside, he was still trying to adjust to the knowledge that his slate would never be wiped completely clean, no matter how many neighborly things he did.
He couldn’t be bothered by what Jenna Haynes thought of him. What anybody thought of him. He had clung to sanity in prison by remembering that he was not the man others saw when they looked at him.
He lifted his face to the sun for just a moment before shoving on his helmet. He couldn’t get enough of feeling the warmth of it on his face or smelling air scented with spring and the sea.
Clutch your pearls all you want, Ms. Haynes, he thought. I’m alive and free. That’s enough for today.
He drove his bike through light traffic to Cannon Beach Car and Bike Repair, the garage where he had been lucky to find a job after showing up in town with mainly his bike, his truck and the small settlement he had received from the state of Illinois.
He had just parked the bike and was taking off his helmet when a tall, dark-haired and very pregnant woman climbed out of a silver sedan and hurried over to him.
Wes sighed and braced himself, not at all in the mood to have a confrontation with his ex-wife that morning. Though they had a generally friendly relationship, he couldn’t imagine why she would show up unless she was mad about something. Not when she could have called or texted for anything benign.
“There you are,” Lacey exclaimed. “I thought you started work at eight.”
He looked at his watch that read eight oh five. “I had a neighbor with a dead battery. It took me a minute to get the car started. What’s up? Have you been waiting for me? You could have called.”
“I know. But I had to run next door anyway to pick up something at the hardware store after I dropped off Brielle at school, so I figured I would stop here first to talk to you while I was out.”
He really hoped she wasn’t about to tell him her husband had been transferred again, after only being moved here a year ago to become manager of a chain department store in a nearby town.
Wes liked it here in Cannon Beach. He liked running on the beach in the mornings and sitting in the gardens of Brambleberry House in the evenings to watch the sun slide into the water.
He liked his job, too. He had worked in a neighborhood auto mechanic shop all through high school and summers during college and definitely knew his way around an engine, motorcycle or car.
Did he want to do it forever? No. As much as he had admired and respected the neighbor who had employed him—and all those who worked with their hands—Wes didn’t think working as a mechanic was his destiny. He still didn’t know what he wanted to do as he worked toward rebuilding the life that had been taken from him. But for now he had found a good place, working with honest, hardworking people who cared about treating their customers right.
It paid the bills and was challenging enough not to bore him, but not overwhelming as he tried to ease back into outside life.
“What’s going on?”
He could see his boss, Carlos Gutierrez, and his brother Paco watching them through the small front window of the shop.
“You know you don’t always have to cut to the chase, right?” Lacey looked exasperated. “We’re not having a quick conversation between prison bars anymore. A little small talk would be fine. You could say, Hi, Lacey. How are you? How’s the house? How’s the baby?”
Wes worked to keep his expression neutral. He might have agreed with her, except their marriage hadn’t exactly been filled with small talk, even before his arrest.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. He had learned a long time ago it was best to try humoring her whenever possible.
Lacey was a devoted, loving mother to their daughter and he still considered her a dear friend. If circumstances had been different, he would have tried like hell to keep their marriage together.
Still, he couldn’t help being more than a little grateful her sometimes volatile moods were another man’s problems these days.
“I’m good. Huge. I can’t believe I still have ten weeks to go before the baby comes.”
They had been divorced for two and a half years. She had remarried her childhood sweetheart a year almost to the day their divorce had been finalized and was now expecting a son with Ron Summers.
Wes was happy for her. When he had little to do but think about his life, it hadn’t taken long for Wes to recognize that his marriage to Lacey had been a mistake from start to finish. He had been twenty-one, about to head off overseas with the Army and she had been eighteen and desperate to escape an unhappy home life, with an abusive father and neglectful mother.
They hadn’t been a good fit for each other. He could see that now, though both of them had spent years trying to deny the inevitable.
One good thing had come out of it. One amazing thing, actually. His nine-year-old daughter, Brielle. She was his heart, his purpose, his everything.
“That’s actually why I’m here. Ron has the chance to take a last-minute trip to Costa Rica for work. He’ll be gone ten days and he wants me to go with him, if I can swing it. This is my last chance to travel for a while, at least until the baby is older.”
“Sounds like fun,” he said, trying to figure out where he came in and why she had accosted him at his workplace to deliver the news.
“The problem is that I can’t take Brie. She doesn’t have a passport and there’s no way to get one for her in time.”
Ah. Now things were beginning to make sense.
“Is there any chance she could come stay with you while we’re gone?”
A host of complications ran through his head, starting with the building just beyond her. The Gutierrez brothers had been good to him. He couldn’t just leave them in the lurch to facilitate his ex-wife’s travel plans.
He worked full-time and would have to arrange childcare. Brielle was nine going on eighteen and likely thought she was fully capable of being on her own while he worked all day. Wes definitely didn’t agree. But he couldn’t bring her down here to the garage with him all day, either.
He would figure that part out later. How could he turn down the chance to spend as much time as possible with his daughter, considering all the years he had missed?
“Sure. Of course. I would love to have her.”
Lacey’s face lit up with happiness, reminding him with painful clarity that it had been a long time since they had been able to make each other happy.
“Oh, that’s amazing. Thank you! Brie will be so excited when I tell her. The alternative was staying with my friend Shandy and she has that five-year-old who can be a real pistol. Brielle will much prefer staying with her dad.”
He could only hope he was up to the task. “When do you leave?” Wes asked.
“Next Friday. The last day of school.”
It would have been easier if she were leaving during the school year, when he would only need to arrange after-school care until his shift was over, but he would figure things out.
He couldn’t say no. He had moved to Cannon Beach, following Lacey and her new family, in order to nurture his relationship with Brielle. He couldn’t miss what seemed to be a glorious opportunity to be with her.
“No problem. We’ll have a great time.”
“You’re the best. Seriously. Thanks, Wes.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, and as her mouth brushed his cheek, Wes couldn’t help wishing that things could have worked out differently between them.
He couldn’t honestly say he regretted the end of a marriage that had been troubled from the beginning. He did regret that the decisions made by the adults in Brielle’s life complicated things for her, forcing her to now split her time between them.
“You do remember that today is Guest Lunch at the school, right? Brie said you were planning to go. If you’re not, I’m sure Ron could swing by on his lunch break.”
He really tried not to feel competitive with his daughter’s stepfather, who seemed overall like a good guy, if a little on the superficial side.
“I’ll be there,” he answered, hoping the day wouldn’t be inordinately busy at the shop.
The Gutierrez brothers were great to work with, but an employer could only be so understanding.
As he watched his ex-wife drive away, the second time he had been caught in the wake of a woman’s taillights that morning, he was reminded of Jenna Haynes and her car trouble.
If he were swinging by the school anyway for lunch, he might as well take a car battery with him and fix Jenna Haynes’s car. It was an easy ten-minute job, and that way she wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of it not starting after school.
He told himself the little burst of excitement was only the anticipation of doing a nice, neighborly deed. It had nothing to do with the knowledge that he would inevitably see Jenna again.
Chapter Two
“Stay in line, class. Remember, hands to yourself.”
Jenna did her best to steer her class of twenty-three third-grade students—including three with special learning needs and Individualized Education Programs—into the lunchroom with a minimum of distractions.
The day that had started out with such stunning news from Angela had quickly spiraled. Her dead battery had only been the beginning.
As soon as she reached the school, she discovered both of her paraprofessionals, who helped with reading and math, as well as giving extra attention to those who struggled most, had called in for personal leave. One was pregnant and had bad morning sickness and the other one had to travel out of town at the last minute to be with a dying relative.
Jenna completely understood they both had excellent reasons to be gone. Unfortunately, that left her to handle the entire class by herself, and her third-grade students were so jacked up over the approaching summer vacation—or maybe from the sugar in her cupcakes—that none of them seemed able to focus.
One more week, she told herself. One more week and then she would have the entire summer to herself.
The previous summer, she had taken classes all summer to finish her master’s degree, as well as working nearly full-time at Rosa’s gift shop, By-the-Wind.
She didn’t feel as if she had enjoyed any summer vacation at all.
She wasn’t going to make that mistake again this year. Though she still had two more classes to go before earning her master’s degree, she had decided to hold off until after the summer, and she had told Rosa she couldn’t work as many hours at the gift shop.
Addie was growing up and Jenna wanted to spend as much time as possible with her daughter while Addie still seemed to like being with her.
“Don’t want spaghetti.” The sudden strident shout from one of her students, Cody Andrews, drew looks from several students in the cafeteria. Some of the adult guests having lunch with their students also gave the boy the side-eye.
Jenna felt immediately on the defensive. Cody, who had been diagnosed with autism, was an eager, funny, bright student, but sometimes crowds could set him off and trigger negative behaviors.
He had seemed to have a particularly difficult morning, maybe because Monica, the aide he loved dearly, wasn’t there.
“Do you want to get pizza from the à la carte line?” she asked him, her voice low and calming.
“No. I don’t like pizza.” That was news to her, since his favorite food was usually pizza and he could eat it five days a week without fuss.
“What about chicken tenders?”
He appeared to consider that for a long moment, his blond head tilted and his brow furrowed. Finally he nodded. “Okay. I like tenders.”
The lunchroom was crowded with parents and friends of the students who had come for their monthly Lunch with a Guest activity.
She strongly suspected another of the reasons for Cody’s outburst might have something to do with that. His parents were recently divorced and his father, who used to come have lunch with him every month, had moved two towns over.
Normally she didn’t eat with the students, preferring to grab a quick bite at her desk while they were out at recess, unless she was on playground duty. But because Cody was being so clingy, she had decided to bring her sack lunch to the table. Now he slid in next to her with his tray of nuggets.
She waved to a few of the parents, then pulled out her sandwich just as she felt the presence of someone behind her.
She turned and was astonished to discover her upstairs neighbor standing beside his daughter, Brielle. He was holding a tray that carried both their lunches.
“Hello.”
In boots, jeans and the same black T-shirt he had been wearing earlier in the day, he looked big and tough and intimidating. Completely out of place in an elementary school lunchroom.
He should moonlight as a bouncer at a biker bar, since nobody would dare mess with him.
“Hi, Mrs. Haynes. This is my dad.” Brielle, his daughter, beamed with pride.
“I know. I’ve met him. We’re neighbors.”
“This is his very first time coming to one of the Lunch with a Guest days.”
She forced a smile. “Welcome. I hope you enjoy yourself.”
“So far so good. It’s pizza. What could go wrong with pizza?”
He obviously had not tried the school pizza yet, which could double as a paperweight in a pinch.
