Page 11 of Hooked on a Feeling

“I like the idea. But the fact of the matter is that even if I could do that, who in the hell is going to run this place? Who is going to treat it the way my grandfather did? Who is going to love this place with all their heart the way he did?”

John stared at Starr because the answer was sitting right across from him in jean shorts with a white tank top and white flip-flops. The answer was loud and clear. But John didn’t know what her life was like. What she would be leaving and who. It didn’t seem fair to put that burden on her, even though it seemed her parents already had.

By the looks she was casting his way, she knew it too. But she didn’t say so. And this was exactly where her issue came in. She had no choice but to let the place go. If she was the kind of woman that she was leading him to believe she was, that was tearing up her heart like nothing else. He stood and tossed their plastic cups into the trash, then held out his hand, which she eyed suspiciously. “Come on. Let’s take a walk along the beach. Maybe it’ll help clear your head.”

John could see the hesitation on her face, but then she stood and gripped his hand. She was slow to trust people, and he could appreciate that. It made him feel like a million bucks that she held onto him with such strength.

“I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” she said. “Listening to all my problems and trying to help me come up with a solution.”

He kept her hand in his as he led her down the path, away from Blue Horizon, away from the marina and the little shops that lined the street. He took his time answering because he didn’t have an answer. She was in a bad situation. It was the least he could do to make her feel better. He took off his shoes and socks while Starr stared at him in awe like she couldn’t figure him out. He clutched his work shoes in one hand and took her hand back in his free one. “Maybe I’m just a nice guy who thinks you’re a nice girl.”

“Well, I haven’t come across a lot of nice guys in my life. So pardon me if I am skeptical by nature.” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me what it’s like growing up with six siblings. How many sisters do you have?”

The sand felt great between his feet as they walked. “I have three brothers: Jersey, Judge, and Jake. And three sisters: Reed—she’s Jake’s twin—then Raven and Ruby. In that birth order.”

“Wow. All Js and Rs, huh?”

“Parents thought that was cute. John Jr. and Rose. What about you? Brothers and sisters?”

“I have one sister. Summer.”

“Starr and Summer? I’m sensing a theme.”

She laughed. “If you’re imagining bell-bottoms, lots of Janis Joplin, and Woodstock, then you are imagining correctly.”

“No Hendrix?” he teased.

“Oh, him too. I grew up listening to a lot of the Who, the Beatles, pretty much every band from that time period. My parents are still living in that era.”

“And that makes you upset?” Above them, the boardwalk was getting busier. Bicycles and skates clunk, clunk, clunked above them.

She shrugged. “That’s not the half of it. Instead of parents, they act like they’re college kids. Still partying. Drinking. Smoking weed.” She stretched her arm out behind her. “They don’t care about anything. It makes it worse when everything is in their control.” She stopped and let go of his hand.

She bent down and picked up a handful of sand, letting the grains slowly fall through her fingers. She glanced up at him, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. With the sunshine highlighting the forlorn look on her face, he wanted to do everything in his power to comfort her. To take away the pain in her heart. To tell her how beautiful and strong he thought she was, but instead he kept quiet, hoping she would talk more.

The last pieces of sand fell through her fingers, and she smiled. “Tell me more about your family. I love big families. I’ve always wished I had a big family and lots of brothers and sisters.”

“It’s not everything it’s cracked up to be.” He shrugged. “Actually, it is. Now that I’m an adult. But as kids, teenagers, it sucked having only two bathrooms for nine people. If you wanted something specific at dinner—a roll or something—you had better be first in line because if you were last, you may not get it.”

“But you guys make yachts. How did you not have a five-bathroom house?”

John chuckled. Everyone was under this impression that they had a bunch of money. Not when he was younger. “Well, when I was a kid, my grandfather owned Blue. Not us. My parents worked there and got paid well, but it wasn’t like we had all this cash. The lavish things we did enjoy were all my grandfather’s things. Up until he died anyway.” He stopped talking. The subject of money always made him uncomfortable. He was shocked that he’d spoken this much about it already. “So anyway, we’re all pretty close since we all work together.”

“That’s so nice. And family dinner on Sundays,” she teased.

“Exactly. Every Sunday. Don’t miss it if you don’t want Rose Davenport coming after you with a frying pan.”

“I was joking,” she said with a laugh. She had an amazing laugh.

John nudged her with his shoulder. “I’m not. It’s true. Every Sunday. Why? You want to come?”

* * *

She didn’t think John was serious, already inviting her to his parents’ house for dinner, but he looked serious enough. The thought of being introduced to all his siblings and his parents, who had obviously been closer to the feud with her family than the next generation, had her shaking her head. “No. Thank you, but no thank you. I’m sure they are lovely people, but I’m going to pass on that.”

“Perhaps next time.”

“I won’t be here long, so probably not. I have a yoga studio back in Colorado that needs my attention.”

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