Page 14 of Sunrise

Kade fidgets in his seat a bit before meeting my eyes. Is he nervous? There is no way this playboy is nervous around two small-town girls scared of a thunderstorm.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood," he says, then settles into his chair. "You girls okay there?" He nods his chin toward where we're huddled under the blanket without an inch of space between us.

"We're fine," I say, and turn to look back out over the water.

We aren't fine, but there is no way this Hollywood playboy cares or would even understand why we hate storms. He's all glitz and glamour where the real world can't touch him, and his actions don't have consequences that can't be bought off.

We sit quietly, and when another flash of lightning is followed by another crack of thunder, we both jump again. I know Kade sees it, but he doesn't say anything. Only when it happens again does he speak.

"Back in LA, I loved the thunderstorms. They would calm me and drown out all the noise of the city until all you could hear is the rain pounding on the roof and your window. You wouldn't be able to hear the traffic, the people, and the sirens anymore. I'd always try to make sure I was home when it would storm like that so I could sit and just think. It was the only time I felt like I got to escape LA."

He pauses when another flash of lightning fills the sky, and a crack of thunder fills the air.

"Here I got that same feeling just listening to the waves. It's so quiet all the time that the storm seems to shake things up, and it just seems bigger than anything out in LA," he says.

I look at Brynn, who mumbles, "That's kind of poetic," under her breath. It was so low that I doubt Kade heard it. I don't know what gets into me, but the story just starts to pour out of me, and Brynn doesn't try to stop it.

"Our parents were best friends. They grew up together, went to school together, opened these inns together, and had Brynn and me around the same time. They did everything together. Five years ago, just after the season ended, they went out on a fishing trip together. Just for the day," I say. The lightning flashes again, taking me back to that day.

Brynn and I had been so excited to have the house to ourselves for the day. Our parents didn't live at the inn. We had houses on the island next door to each other. She came over to my house, and we opened a bottle of her mom's wine, ordered our favorite takeout, and rented some movies to watch. We cyber stalked Jasper on his new job and just did what two best friends would do with a day to themselves.

We had no worries. We were both single and relaxed. She and I were planning our next steps in life after getting our business degrees online, we talked about going into Wilmington to get a job at an inn or bed and breakfast there to learn the business before coming home to work with our parents. We wanted to bring in new ideas. How quickly everything changed.

"A storm came out of nowhere. It wasn't on the radar, nothing. It doesn't happen here very often, but we've seen it before. We thought our parents were just at the docks waiting for it to calm down before driving home. Probably sitting on the boat drinking beer and laughing about the day. Frying up whatever they caught for dinner. They did that often," Brynn says.

"Only we fell asleep, and the next morning, they still weren't home. A search party found the boat capsized right out by the lighthouse on the rocks at the other end of the island, and within forty-eight hours, they had found all four bodies. Two washed up on the shore and two not far from the boat," I say.

"That was the storm that washed out the bridge?" Kade whispers.

"Yes," I say and wipe my eyes. "The whole town rallied around us. We are both only children and didn't have any other family. We were twenty years old and now owners of the inns, but we had to sort out our parents' whole lives, the funerals, everything." I rest my head on Brynn's shoulder.

Planning the funeral was numbing for both of us. Our parents had life insurance, and they made sure everything was set up and taken care of. They had bought burial plots at the cemetery on the island. They were as prepared as possible, making the process a bit easier because we didn't have to make so many decisions.

The days leading up to the funeral are a blur for both of us. Jasper's parents actually stayed and helped us with a lot of the arrangements. Their son might have broken Brynn's heart, but they still saw her as family.

"The press in nearby towns was relentless trying to get a story from us. The two girls orphaned in the phantom storm on Hummingbird Island. I'm sure you can still find it online. Some reporter who wanted to make a name for himself wrote it like a haunting horror story for Halloween." I shake my head.

"The town took their time repairing the bridge to keep them at bay, but once it was fixed, they still camped out on our doorstep for months, all the way into Christmas. Finally, the inn managers who had worked with our parents suggested we close the inns for a few weeks after New Year's to do some repairs. The insurance money and life insurance money had just come in. They agreed to oversee it, and we got out of town for a bit," Brynn says.

"That's when you put in the hurricane windows and storm shelter," Kade says more as a statement as he connects the dots, but I answer anyway.

"Yes. We rented a cabin in Tennessee for three weeks, and when we came home, the press left us alone. We took the rest of the off-season to start a new marketing campaign to ensure visitors that the inns would be run the same, and the outpouring of support was amazing. We have been booked solid for every season since. This off-season was the first time we had a break to do much work. Then you showed up," I tell him.

"So that's why we don't like thunderstorms. Ones like this take us back to that night. We can't sleep and stopped trying to. Sitting here together is the only way we can get through it," Brynn says.

"I can relate to the press. They are the worst and know no boundaries. They have no morals. Most people would let you mourn in peace, but not the press. Anything for a story," he says as his eyes turn to us.

But his eyes stay on me, and I can see in them the understanding and a kindness I wasn't expecting. I would have guessed he thrived off the press and the publicity. That he ate it up and wanted more. His words don't sound like the playboy Brynn and I had him pegged as.

"So, what's your backstory?" Brynn asks, thankfully changing the subject.

"Ah, I grew up on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. I did acting in school, and at my high school play, one of the girl's uncles was a talent agent who hounded my family and me for months to sign me. Though I had just turned eighteen, my parents begged me to finish the last few months of school. I did, then I went with him to Hollywood. I got lucky and was picked for a TV show with my first audition, and it's been a whirlwind since."

He pauses. "I miss the calm and slow way things are back home. I used to thrive off the job, and scripts, and landing the next big part, but it's starting to lose its shine. I can't tell Wren that, though. He doesn't seem to believe me when I do tell him."

"Maybe you should get a new manager," I say.

He smirks. "Wren is one of the good ones. He is straightforward, works hard, and pushes his clients hard, but is a huge playboy. I've seen some of the best actors get screwed over by their managers, and I have no interest in going down that road. I'll stick to Wren even if he pushes a bit too hard. He always has my back, and that's rare in this field."

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