Page 42 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

I round the truck and get in beside her, turning on the ignition and pointing my vehicle toward San Luis Obispo. We’re running a few minutes late, but I can make it up on the highway.

Marilee fiddles with her wedding band, spinning it round and round her finger.

“You know”—I say, tapping my thumbs to the beat of some country song that’s popped on the radio, set at such a low volume I can’t discern more than that—“if you decide to start your own cake decorating business, you could set your own hours. Aren’t you sick of the early mornings? You used to be such a night owl.”

“I was.” She straightens. “But things change. We adapt as we need to.”

There’s something serious in her voice. I give her a sharp look before redirecting my attention to the road. “What’s going on, Lee?”

After a few long moments, she finally answers me. “I’ve thought a lot about it, weighed all the options in my head. And yes, I do love decorating cakes?—”

“Love seems rather a weak word to describe the joy that seeps from your very pores when you’re doing it, but go on.”

“Okay, Mr. Dramatic.” She huffs a laugh, but I can tell there’s something staid in it. Marilee is definitely in her head about something. “Yes, I love it, but I’m afraid it won’t always pay the bills.”

“Won’t know unless you try. Go part time at the bakery. Heck, quit the bakery altogether. I make enough for us to live on for the next year. Spend time focusing on you, Lee. Onyourdreams.”

“It’s just not practical. Marla’s got a solid business plan that’s been working for her for thirty years. It’s so seamless, evenIcan’t mess it up.”

“I hate it when you talk about my best friend that way.” I try for a tease, but apparently, it falls flat, because it doesn’t so much as lift the corners of her beautiful mouth.

“The fact is, we won’t be married forever.”

Geez, Lee, shoot me in the heart.“No, but?—”

“And so if I quit the bakery and try to start my own thing, there’s no guarantee whoever does buy the bakery will hire me back. And then where does that leave me? There isn’t anything else I’m good at, nothing else I’d want to do for a job. Even selling the house to Blake and Lucy wouldn’t make me enough money to live on indefinitely. I’d either have to do something I hated or move. And I’m not moving.”

“Hey.” I reach for her hand, and after a few moments, she gives it to me. I loop our fingers together and give her what I hope is a friendly squeeze. “You’re basing your entire decision on what might happen. On the predication that you’re going to fail. But what if you don’t fail? What if instead, you fly?”

Marilee’s hand trembles in mine before she pulls it away and tucks it into her lap. “It’s hard to fly with a broken wing.” Her words are soft, but they break me all the same. I want to pull this truck over to the side of the road. Want to grab her gently by the shoulders and wrap her into the tightest hug, to shelter her from all the doubts and worries and lies that life has thrown at her, from all the arrows being flung her way.

But they’re coming from inside of her, and I don’t know how to stop them. I don’t know how to heal her. Probably, I can’t. All I can do is reassure her that her brokenness doesn’t scare me. That we’re all a little broken, but that healing is possible.

Before I can find the words, she continues. “A few minutes ago, I told Marla I wanted to buy the bakery. All I need from you is to cosign the loan, but I will make sure I don’t ever miss a payment.” She blows out a breath. “I’m going to establish a life for myself, one that doesn’t require anyone else to rescue me.”

One that doesn’t require any risk on her part, she means. That doesn’t require her to ask anyone else to step into that risk with her. If only she knew that, if I could, I’d grab her hand and leap in with her head first, no questions asked.

Because that’s what love does.

But love also has to let go. And maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. Maybe that’s how I can love Marilee best.

I just wish I knew one way or the other.

twelve

MARILEE

I can barely keep my eyes open.

But since I’m still currently in charge of two small children, sleep is not an option.

Scarlett and Ryder pump their legs as they swing higher and higher over Jordan’s grassy backyard. Scarlett yells out encouragements for Ryder to keep up with her. They’ve been going at it for a full thirty minutes after finishing their dinner at a breakneck speed because, as Scarlett said, “We only have a little more time to play before Mommy comes to get me. Hurry, hurry!”

And sweet little Ryder didn’t mind being bossed one bit. He tossed back that lasagna like it was gourmet and followed April’s daughter out the back door. I cleaned up their plates and set the pasta back in the oven on warm, ready for whenever Jordan gets home from his late-night working. He had to make up time after our meeting with Sam Granger ate into his work time earlier today. Thankfully, the meeting went smoothly, and we all feel pretty prepared for the court date that’s three short weeks from tomorrow.

After cleanup, I join the kids outside, watching them play while plying myself with coffee to try to stay awake. Although honestly, I’m not sure I could sleep with everything going on inside my head.

Like the sight of Amy Montrose and Jordan together earlier today. The woman clearly adores him. She’s cute and sweet, and they made a striking pair standing beside each other. And I didn’t like the way my stomach twisted watching them together.

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