Page 30 of Me and Mr. Just Right

The banter between them continued the rest of the way to shore. At some point, probably when Lia slipped and slid over some mossy rocks, Haydn reached out his hand, and she slid her palm against his. She hadn’t been this excited to hold hands with someone since junior high. She resisted the urge to burrow into his side, barely, but she did love the steady feel of his arm pressed snugly against hers.

They exited the sandy tree line to find a long, beachy expanse of rough-edged barnacles, slimy rockweed, and dark green kelp, with pockets of colorful sea organisms.

The sun’s bright rays fully shone on them here, and Lia reluctantly let go of Haydn’s arm to unzip her rain jacket, and then pull off her sweater beneath it to tie around her waist.

Haydn pulled out his camera and started to take pictures, pausing between each one to mess around with buttons on his screen, before taking more.

“We could be here for hours,” Jules said under his breath with a nod in Haydn’s direction. He’d wandered farther away, deep enough into the water that it nearly came to the tops of his boots, as he captured a picture of another distant island.

“Well, shoot. I’ve got such a busy day …” She grinned, and was gratified when one side of his mouth curved up just a bit. She could think through new songs here just as easily as she could back at the cabin. She’d brought a notebook and pencil in her day pack.

“There’s a spot up that hill—” He pointed to a small hill about a quarter of a mile away. “—where we can sometimes get reception, if you want to check your phone.”

She shuddered. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She hadn’t even brought her phone with her this morning. “Okay,” she told him. “I’m good for now, though.”

They stood side by side, the air between them turning awkward. It seemed like he wanted to say something, and her stomach twisted at what it might be.

He knows who you are. He changed his mind about letting you stay. He hates your guts.Inner Gwen sounded way too delighted about that last one.

He made a ticking sound as he rocked back on his heels and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Look, Jules—”

“Lia, I—”

They both stopped abruptly after talking over one another.

“You first,” he insisted in a tone that brooked no arguments.

“I was just going to say that if it makes you too uncomfortable for me to be here, I can leave.” She didn’t know where she’d go, but that was hardly Jules’s problem.

“No. I said you could stay, and I never go back on my word.”

“Oh. Well, okay.” She stared out at the horizon where Haydn stood, getting a close-up photograph of something in the water. Maybe one of the many colorful starfish dotting the beach like sprinkles on a vanilla cupcake.

“I wanted to talk about Haydn.”

She tore her gaze away from Haydn to look at Jules, who stood with his arms folded. He had a serious expression—even more serious than usual, which was really saying something—directed right at her. She didn’t know what kind of lawyer Jules was, but she could imagine him as a prosecutor, facing her as a witness on the stand for the defendant. Or maybe shewasthe defendant he believed was guilty.

Either way, she both wanted to squirm under his glare and hold her shoulders back to prove he couldn’t get to her. Even if he very much was getting to her.

“Haydn puts a lot of pressure on himself. To take care of all of us.”

“And he doesn’t need one more person to care for,” she finished. “I have no intention of—”

He interrupted with an abrupt shake of his head and said, “No, that’s not what I was going to say at all.”

“Oh.” Maybe she’d just listen to what he had to say, then. She rocked back on her heels with her hands in her back pockets, curious to hear what he said now that she realized she wasn’t being warned away from Haydn.

“He thinks that without him, we’d all fall apart. And we do rely on him a lot. It’s hard not to when he’s so willing to help.”

He paused for long enough that she wondered if he was done, but he stood there, staring out at the horizon, so she held still, hoping there was more. She wasn’t disappointed.

“But I think he’s holding himself back because of us,” he continued. “He thinks he’s the glue, and without him we’ll all fall apart.”

She’d heard him refer to himself as the glue when he’d been talking to Rose. “Why does he think that?”

“It’s something our dad used to say, before he left. Haydn doesn’t invest himself in relationships other than with us or jobs that would take him out of Alaska.”

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