Page 37 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

For talking too.

Jordan and I still haven’t discussed Kiss-Gate ourselves, but despite doing my best to put it off, I know it has to happen. We need to be adults and face this head on. I can sense he gave me space yesterday, and I did appreciate it. But now that I’ve got my emotions sorted—now that I’ve reminded myself of my priorities, of what I really want—it’s time to talk.

So I suggested we come here, where other than the kitchen, I feel most like myself.

Because the rest of the world—and their voices, beloved as they might be—doesn’t exist here.

Pulling my knees into my chest, I watch Jordan toss Ryder over his shoulder, growling like a bear as he chases Scarlett too. The little blondie screeches out a delighted scream and dashes away, her pigtails blowing in the wind behind her as she runs right through the sandcastle we built earlier.

Finally, Jordan sets Ryder down and pretends to get a cramp, collapsing on the ground. Both kids pile on top to tickle him. He giggles with a high-pitched laugh that is completely exaggerated, and my heart expands at what a good dad he is.

At how much he loves his son.

He’s sacrificed more than most guys would, that’s for sure. With his brilliant mind, he could have worked at a Fortune 500 company, but instead, he chose to come back to Hallmark Beach. Of course, that was before he had Ryder, so something else drew him back here—probably his parents, given his mom’s diagnosis and his dad’s inability to care for her. But still. He stayed.

He’s the kind of guy who stays.

And maybe it shouldn’t, but that’s what terrifies me.

I sit that way, watching them for a bit, until Jordan glances up. Our gazes connect, and he says something to the kids, who clamber off of him and run back toward the soccer ball.

He brushes his gym shorts and walks up the small hill, plopping down beside me. “Couldn’t have given me a little assist, there?”

“It looked like you had it handled.”

“I could have used my wingwoman.” A flash of sunlight peeks through the afternoon clouds, and he pulls the brim of his ball cap down a bit. “But who am I kidding? You would have been on their side.”

“I’m glad you recognize the reality of the situation.”

We both laugh, then settle into the silence that’s been dogging us far too often the last forty-eight hours. Really, the last six days since we said “I do.” If we are ever going to survive the next fifty-one weeks, this just can’t continue.

I exhale. “Jay.”

“Yeah, Lee?” He spreads his legs out in front of him, his muscular calves resting in the fine sand. I remember the first time I saw him in high school, how tall and spindly he was. The exact opposite of Donny, built like a juiced-up truck. Of course, for a while after Donny was injured at the end of his senior year, he stopped lifting. He grew weaker, while Jordan started lifting weights and grew stronger.

Donny never did forgive Jordan for that, I think.

Funny how their outward appearances finally came to match their insides.

I shake myself from the thought. Jordan may be Donny’s exact opposite, but I am still me—and my faults are plenty. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Kiss-Gate.”

He snorts. “Kiss what?”

I dig my toes into the sand at the edge of the blanket. “That’s what Elisse took to calling it.” Waving my hand in the air, I laugh with a dismissiveness I don’t really feel. “Not important. The point is, I’m sorry.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “What exactly are you sorry about?”

Oh, he’s not going to make this easy for me, is he?

A breeze wends its way up, carrying with it the sounds of Ryder and Scarlett’s laughter as they retrieve the soccer ball from a hole in the sand.

I zip up my red hoodie, which is covered in flour that just didn’t want to come off after yesterday’s baking sesh. “That I made things awkward between us.”

“You never have to feel awkward around me.” He waits a beat. “Anything else?”

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