Page 21 of Beachside Kisses With My Enemy

And yeah, maybe to stick it to Lucy a little bit too.

“Perfect. See you then.”

eight

LUCY

I adore so much about this town.

The setting itself. You can’t get much better than my current view on The Green Robin’s beach-facing back patio, where Chloe’s gathered us all for the third festival meeting.

The quirky characters. Like Earl Flanders and Alberta Jenkins, who are going at it right now like two toddlers fighting over an ice cream cone, and Uncle Burt, who’s busy entertaining a few other old timers with tall tales of past customers and his heroics in rescuing stranded motorists passing through town.

But most especially, I love the way this community welcomed me into the fold summer after summer as a kid, even when I was just a guest among them. It’s like they saw something in me that required comforting, and they became the safe haven I needed.

One thing I’m not a huge fan of, though? The way everyone knows your business. Don’t get me wrong—it can be endearing, and usually it just means they care.

But right now, I’m surrounded by all of my best friends—save Chloe, who is flitting around in preparation for the meeting, and Marilee, who is at work on this Thursday morning—and they’ve started asking me about something they’d know nothing about if we didn’t live in the tiniest of towns.

Because I certainly never would have brought it up.

“How are things going with your irritatingly good-looking new housemate?” Elisse’s smile is wicked in nature as she pushes her brown bobbed hair behind an ear.

“No comment.”

“I’m so jealous. Wanna switch?” My cousin April fans herself with an Abigail Fox novel that’s got a cute illustrated couple on the front. Looks like this one’s a hockey romcom. She’s always carrying a romance book around—which makes sense, given she’s both an aspiring author and works at The Bluestocking Bookshop in town. “My little housemate has been acting seven going on seventeen lately. When did kids get so moody, anyway?”

We all laugh. I reach over and squeeze her arm. “Believe me, I’d switch in a heartbeat, but something tells me Scarlett really does need her mama, even if she doesn’t act like it.” That something? It’s called experience. Take it from the girl whose own mom can be difficult to get ahold of. I know she’s having the time of her life gallivanting the globe with Kevin, and after all the sadness of losing my dad twenty years ago, I can’t blame her for having a little fun.

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her. Still, I don’t need to dwell on it, and fortunately, my friends don’t either.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean they’re ready to let talk of Blake die.

“So.” Kelsey grabs my arm and tugs me closer, her gentle voice a soothing balm after her twin sister’s teasing. “How is it going, really? I know how much you don’t care for him.”

“So she says,” Elisse’s voice singsongs. “What’s that saying? There’s a fine line between love and hate? And we all know how much you haaaaaate Blake Moffitt.”

“Shut up, Elisse.” April hip bumps her out of the way and nudges close to my other side. “Let Lucy tell us all the good stuff herself.”

“Good stuff?” I laugh. “This isn’t a romance novel, cuz.”

“I know.” Huffing, April pushes her red hair out of her eyes. She recently got bangs and, upon coming home from the salon, declared that she regretted her life choices. “Real life is never as good as the books. But let a girl fantasize vicariously through you for a moment, okay?”

That makes me chuckle again. These ladies are good for my soul. “There’s not much to tell—and definitely nothing to fantasize about. I’ve worked a lot of late nights, so we’ve pretty much missed each other at the house.”

Elisse frowns at me. “And by that you mean Marilee texts you when he heads to bed so you don’t accidentally run into him, right?”

“No, but that’s a fabulous idea. Because I’m not wasting any more energy on him.”

“Any more?” April latches onto the word with hope and a raised eyebrow.

“You guys are impossible.” I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the drama with the food truck.”

“Of course. It’s all over town, how Miss Sunshine herself got snarky with her best friend’s brother,” Elisse says in a low, saucy voice full of knowing.

I balk at her use of “Sunshine”—Blake’s stupid new nickname for me—and narrow my eyes at her. Does she know more than she’s letting on? Oy.

Either way, I hate how news of my lapse in emotional judgement spread so rapidly. At least I took my anger out on him in private the next time. Still, I wish he didn’t affect me at all. Lemons into lemonade, Lucy. You’re good at that. “He deserved it.” I try to infuse as much conviction into my tone as possible.

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