Page 7 of The House on Firefly Beach
Logan leaned over to a nearby table and swiped a cocktail napkin. With a pen from the inside of his jacket, he scribbled on it and handed it to her. “This is my cell. If you ever want that cup of coffee, give me a call.”
“Thank you,” she said, folding it and securing it in her fist.
“It was wonderful meeting you,” Logan told her.
“Same.” Sydney felt a lift in her spirit as he walked away.
The wedding guests had dwindled and Jacqueline had taken Robby up to bed. Ben was spinning a now barefoot Hallie on the dance floor while Sydney sat amidst a table full of empty glassware and leaned on her hand, her eyelids drooping from such a big day. She’d hit the ground running at about five thirty this morning, helping Hallie finalize the last few details. She’d organized the wedding party breakfast at Starlight Cottage, gotten five women through hair and make-up, and picked up Beau from the groomer’s in town—all while trying to keep her own appearance wedding-ready, wearing one of Uncle Hank’s button-down shirts and flowers in her up-do. The wedding couldn’t have been better—she was so happy for Hallie. Her sister deserved this night.
Sydney contemplated heading in to the cottage, all the champagne and festivities making her feel like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
“You could’ve caught the bouquet,” a familiar voice settled over her, making her fatigued shoulders tense up.
Nate dropped down into the chair beside her. His jacket and tie were gone, the top button of his shirt undone, and his sleeves rolled. He looked as tired as she felt, but she sort of liked it, because when he relaxed, he seemed less like Nathan Carr and more like Nate Henderson. It gave her a rush of nostalgia, and for the first time in quite a while, she considered how much she missed him.
“Is your date still sitting alone at your sister’s cottage?” she asked, ignoring his first statement.
“Malory’s with her.”
She’d have liked to have been a fly on the wall when Nate had faced his sister. It was no secret that Malory wasn’t happy at all with the fact that Nate hadn’t been back to see anyone since he’d left. While he’d called his sister fairly often, he hadn’t bothered to come back for any length of time, until now.
When his parents passed away, they’d left him their cottage in Firefly Beach, and it held so many memories for Sydney. There were six mailboxes between Starlight Cottage and the tiny little house where Nate Henderson used to live. She’d counted them every day that she’d made the walk between the two homes. On those lazy summertime days when she’d traveled that route with Nate, their faces warmed from a day in the sun, both of them barefoot, her sandals swinging from her fingertips, she’d never have imagined this. Nate had returned once a few years ago, and everyone wondered if he’d finally come back to spruce up the cottage his parents had left to him and his sister, but instead, he’d leveled it and created two separate lots: one with Malory’s new cottage and another that sat abandoned while the weeds got cut twice a month; nothing had been done with it. He’d left in less than twenty-four hours.
Sydney twisted toward Nate to figure out exactly what he wanted when he’d said himself that he wouldn’t bother her any more tonight.
“Can we talk?” he asked, surrender in his eyes. In that light, he looked just like he had all those years ago. She could almost swear she saw that same love in his eyes now that she’d taken for granted when they were younger. She’d have never imagined that she’d have to go so long without it.
Sydney was completely drained. Her head ached, the pinch in her shoulder was back in full force, and she’d had too much alcohol to have any kind of major conversation. All she wanted to do was crawl under the crisp covers of her bed, up at the cottage, and sink into glorious sleep.
“It’s a little too late for that,” she whispered and to her complete surprise and panic, tears welled up in her eyes. She was clearly exhausted, and had definitely had too much to drink. She blinked away her emotion. It had been easy to be strong when his face was on a glossy magazine cover, but with him right there in front of her, it felt too much like old times, and her resolve was slipping. She cleared her throat to keep the lump from forming.
“I feel like we never really got any closure, and that was my fault,” he said, the softness of his voice as warming for her as the morning sun under the crisp coastal breeze. He looked out over the yard, littered with party debris. The gulf shone like diamonds under a full moon as fireflies danced along the edge of its lapping waves. “I haven’t been able to get any of this right,” he admitted. He looked back at her.
“And I just want you to know I’m sorry, Syd. I’m so sorry.”
It was surprising how much her heart ached still when she let him get close enough. She’d thought she was over it. And now he’d just apologized, which was the one thing she’d wanted in all this.
But there was a part of her that was cautious about his motives. Right before her wedding to Christian, Nate had called her out of the blue—it had been the first time they’d spoken since he’d left that day for California. Things had started with her being angry, just like they had today, but he had sweet-talked his way into an easy conversation, and she’d found herself wondering about what could’ve been. It had terrified her, since she was on her way to the altar with someone else whom she thought she loved, and she’d cut the call short.
Later, she’d heard from someone in town that he’d tried to buy his sister’s cottage out from under her, asking her to move, and Sydney couldn’t help but wonder if he’d wanted something that day, which only made her feel more terrible for allowing her feelings for him to bubble to the surface. He’d upped his game tonight with an apology. Did he want something now?
Nate stood up and held out his hand. “Take a walk with me?”
She stared at the slight pout that his lips made when he was asking a question; it was an expression that she knew so well. There wasn’t a shred of arrogance in his eyes, and she wanted so badly to believe the honesty she saw.
But life was about forward movement, not getting stuck in something from the past that obviously wasn’t going anywhere, judging by his wedding date who was still sitting back at Malory’s. She knew what she had to do. Sydney picked up the shoes that she’d kicked off earlier and stood in front of him in her bare feet.
“I don’t think so,” she told him. Then she walked off toward Starlight Cottage, feeling a swell of pride but knowing that the minute she got to her room, she’d let the tears come.
Chapter Three
The old farm table in Uncle Hank’s kitchen at Starlight Cottage was abuzz with family this morning. The coffee pot gurgled, filling the room with the heady, chocolaty aroma of ground coffee, while the small television on the kitchen counter chattered in the background, offering up a day of glorious weather ahead.
Hallie and Ben had wanted to stay for breakfast before leaving for their honeymoon—their suitcases were already packed and ready against the wall. Sydney tried unsuccessfully to ignore the reading material for the plane that Hallie had stacked with their bags. The magazine on top had a giant photo of Juliana with a thumbnail of Nate in the corner. The headline read, “The It Couple’s Decision to Leave the Spotlight: Is It a Publicity Stunt?” Had they fled to Firefly Beach to drum up interest in some new project? She took in a gulp of air to clear her mind and turned back toward her family.
Uncle Hank and his brother Lewis were chatting about the local news while Robbie wriggled up next to Ben to find out when he’d be back from the honeymoon so they could play football in the yard. Beau sighed from his dog bed in the corner. The regularity of the scene was comforting to Sydney, given the events that were invading their normalcy.
Sydney and Jacqueline had been up cooking since the early hours like they did sometimes. Sydney had come downstairs to find all the kitchen windows open, allowing a picturesque view of the turquoise Gulf and a warm breeze to blow in intermittently. Sydney hadn’t slept well last night, and she wondered if the alcohol from the wedding had made her restless. She certainly wasn’t going to admit to herself that it had anything to do with Nate being right down the street. Her mother hadn’t asked about Nate, which only made Sydney more uptight about him. When Jacqueline was quiet, she was thinking. Well, her mother shouldn’t haveanythingto think about when it came to him.
