Page 63 of The Sandover Beach Billionaire

“Maybe you should look,” Mercer said.

“Just to find out I can’t afford it?”

“What if you can? Stop being difficult. Where’s the folder?”

“In the car.”

Mercer rolled her eyes and stomped out of the house and down the stairs. Jenna took this time to get nosy, looking for a fault that would make her feel differently about the house. But everywhere she looked just made her want the house more. From the homemade chandelier made of driftwood to the art above the couch, which looked more like actual artwork than a print. This was definitely going to be over budget.

Mercer burst back in through the door, smiling. She handed Jenna the folder with the listing. “Good news. It’s right where you wanted to be. The high side, but still in your budget. Lease, but with the option of leasing-to-own. If you’re interested.”

Jenna couldn’t stop her smile. “I’ve got some calls to make, then.”

Mercer wasn’t the jump-up-and-down, hug-it-out kind of person, but she did give Jenna’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m really, really happy for you. I think that this is the start of good things to come.”

“I think you’re right.”

But even as she said it, Jenna felt the sadness she’d kept hidden wrapping even tighter around her heart.

It was a lovely house, but she was still alone.

* * *

“I found a place!” Jenna held the phone up to her ear as she walked through the bare kitchen. Her mother’s house was almost completely empty now—a few final pieces of furniture remained just until the day or two before closing. A charity planned to pick up the old couch and a few other pieces of furniture tomorrow.

“Yay! The real question is: can it fit my family when we come to the beach?”

Jenna laughed. “It will be a little tight, but yes. Three bedrooms, two baths. It’s one of the old-style beach cottages. Fully furnished and renovated. It’s amazing. Five or so minutes to walk to the beach. On the other side of the causeway, but there’s a crosswalk.”

“That sounds perfect. I’m so happy for you. Sold the house, found a new one, got a job—everything’s coming together.” The tightness around Jenna’s heart clenched in the silence before Rachel spoke. “I’m sorry, Jenns.”

Jenna ran a hand over the empty counter, brushing away invisible crumbs. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“I know you. You aren’t fine. You’re heartbroken and trying to cover. Tell me again why you aren’t talking to Jackson?”

“I’m not not talking to him.”

“But you haven’t talked about your feelings. Or about the fact that you were in a relationship that suddenly went poof for no good reason.”

“There were reasons. And he never officially said it was a relationship. It was just a … thing that happened we don’t talk about. If he wants to talk, he knows where I live.”

“He’s being just as dumb and proud as you are. And your reasons are flimsy. So, he assumed something and hurt your feelings. In his defense, you said that you had cheated and kissed Steve. It was a fair assumption for him to make.”

“Yeah, I could have worded that better.”

“Or explained before he ran out the door.”

Jenna had gone over this again and again in her mind. She actually agreed with Rachel in a lot of ways. Her reasons were paper-thin. But she clung to them and didn’t know exactly why. Fear? Pride? Though she would never admit it to Rachel, she wanted Jackson to show up at her door. She wanted him to reach out.

She wanted him.

But the more weeks went by where they were exceedingly polite to each other, staying at arm’s length away, the more she felt ridiculous for thinking that would ever happen. Jenna had been worried about things moving too fast between them, but time and distance gave her more perspective. It didn’t feel rushed now. Her feelings weren’t flimsy like her excuses. If anything, she was more solid about how she felt now. Things had happened fast between them, but it wasn’t a crush or infatuation. Jenna couldn’t say the word that accurately described her feelings. She wouldn’t. Unless Jackson came back, it was a moot point. And he wasn’t coming. She felt more and more sure of this every day, as her heart broke a little more.

“I could have handled it better. But the reality is that Jackson ran out the door. He left. And he didn’t come back. I don’t want that kind of man. One who runs and leaves. I’ve had that.” She bit her lip to hold back the tears. She would not keep crying about this.

Rachel sighed through the phone. It was a giving-up kind of sigh. “You get your stubbornness from Mom, you know.”

Jenna laughed, feeling a slight relief from the pain in her chest. “Yep. So do you. Anyway, back to the house.”

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