Page 4 of Beachside Kisses With My Enemy

“And you won’t.” He cocks his head. “You know, sometimes a change of scenery can inspire creativity and greatness. You didn’t really tell me much about your trip back home a few weeks ago, but when you returned, something in you seemed…I don’t know. Lighter, maybe?”

He’s not wrong. At first, I dreaded going back to Hallmark Beach, especially with the way I’d left after the funeral. After my conversation—or rather, disagreement—with Lucy. After the way, in my own grief and determination to not let Dad down (even in death), I abandoned my sister.

But two weeks ago, Marilee—and almost everyone else I encountered—treated me better than I deserved.

Everyone except Lucy.

She gave me death glares from across the vineyard where the wedding was held.

But everyone else was friendly and polite, not telling me—to my face at least—what a lousy brother I’d been. My sister even told me her roommates were moving out at the end of this month, so that by May first, my old room at the family home will always be available whenever I want to visit.

Maybe Dale is on to something. Because if anything, being back in Hallmark Beach recently was more than penance. It was an escape from the big city—from the pressures I live with every day. Pressures that have become normal, yes, but still burdensome at times.

I mean, I’m still determined to reach my dreams.

But wouldn’t it be nice to reach for them and be somewhere that feels a little more like me than L.A. does? Dale’s offering me that chance. To spend a summer in Hallmark Beach. To create again. To cook again.

To reconnect with my sister. To be a better brother—the chance to turn around my one regret.

Well, the only regret I would ever consider doing something about anyway. The other one…yeah. Best to leave that in the past.

“You’re right, as you always are, Dale.” And maybe it would be more prudent to get all the details down in writing, to hash everything out now, but in the six years I’ve known him, Dale has always looked out for me.

I trust him. And if he thinks this is what I need to do to make it in the big leagues, then this is what I’m gonna do.

I offer him my hand across the table. “And you’ve got yourself a deal.”

two

LUCY

One month later…

After working in a restaurant for nearly thirteen years, lots of things don’t faze me anymore.

Strange food orders.

Spilled drinks.

Hangry customers.

But a child running out of the restroom screaming “I peed in the sink!” at the top of his lungs?

That one’s new.

His mother, a woman who looks around my twenty-eight years, races out after the boy, who looks to be around three or four. “No, he didn’t! I swear,” she screams as she chases her child around the tables. He’s one fast little dude.

The other customers inside The Green Robin—an adorable restaurant with pink walls and lime-colored furniture that’s also my home away from home—keep their eyes on the mother and son as they weave through the tables and out onto the back patio. Unfortunately, there are far too few of them here for a Friday night, but it’s only the third week of May, so I’m hoping things will pick up with the coming start of the Hallmark Beach summer season around Memorial Day weekend.

Jenny, one of my teenage waitresses, looks at me with wide eyes. “What do we do, Lucy?”

Laughing at her horror, I shake my head. “First, I’m going to help that poor mama out. And if he did really pee in the sink, then we’re gonna clean it up.”

Jenny wrinkles her nose. “Not it.”

“Me either!” And that would be Sam, the hostess with a nose ring and spiked purple hair.

“Me three.” Tiny Taylor—a forty-eight-year-old beast of a man with a droopy mustache—leans out of the kitchen door, his chef’s hat askew. Steam billows from behind him.

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