Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(56)

He slammed the glass down on the bar so loudly other guests looked at him with disapproval. He didn’t seem to notice. “A few investments have gone south.” He shrugged. “It happens.” His cheeks sagged.

Cara drew closer. “Palmer, you’re my brother. I love you. You were there for me when Brett died. I couldn’t have made it through the financial mess if it weren’t for you. Let me help. Is there anything I can do?”

His blue eyes melted with affection as he gazed back at her. Then he shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine. Nothing I can’t handle. Daddy told me the business was like being on a ship. You have to roll with the ups and downs.” He moved his hand as if it were a ship riding the waves, then let it land on the bar. “I’ve been through this before. Soon we’ll be on calm seas again. Don’t you worry.”

Cara looked at her watch. “Palmer, I’m sorry, but I have to go. My meeting . . .”

“Sure. Off you go. Good luck, sister mine.”

“Palmer, why don’t you go home? Julia must be worried.”

A glance was exchanged, and Cara knew her brother understood her meaning.

“I’ll settle up and go. Don’t be a stranger. Come visit. The house feels so empty.”

“I’ll try. But you should come to the beach house. It’s summer! And you need to see Linnea. She’s a surfing prodigy.”

Palmer’s face lit up. “Is she?” He burst into a genuine grin. “That girl’s a spitfire. Just like you.” Then he shook his head in mock ruefulness. “What is it about the Rutledge women? Y’all seem to have gotten the best the gene pool has to offer.”

Cara laughed and bent closer to kiss his cheek. “It’s just being a woman, brother mine.”



AN HOUR AND a half later, Cara walked out of the private meeting room and down the stairs. She paused to take a deep breath, then made her way through the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd to the bar. She felt her news bubbling in her like fine champagne and she had to move deliberately to keep herself from jumping up and down. The bar was packed, too, but she got lucky when a man rose. She grabbed his stool and pulled out her phone. She dialed the number of the person she most wanted to share her news with.

“David Wyatt.”

“David? I got the job! They loved my ideas and decided at the table!”

“Congratulations! I’m not at all surprised.”

“Come meet me for a drink. Let’s celebrate!”

There was a moment’s pause, and she knew he was looking at his watch. “If I hurry, I can make the next ferry. I’ll be there if I have to swim.”

She laughed, feeling the joy of it. She cradled her phone to be heard over the jazz band that had started playing. She felt her lips move against the keys.

“I’ll be waiting.”



Chapter Fourteen



Sea turtles that arrive at sea turtle hospitals most commonly suffer from debilitated turtle syndrome, shock from exposure to cold temperatures, injury from a boat strike or shark bite, and consumption of marine debris like plastic bags or fishing line.

OVER THE NEXT few weeks, John showed up at seven every morning that the surf was good, and if Linnea was free from baby duty they took off together. He brought the boards and Linnea brought the coffee. His knocks on the door became customary. John often dropped in for no particular reason. Sometimes he’d show up with lunch or coffee, or occasionally in the evening with a bottle of wine. They would sit at their laptops, he working, she searching for jobs. Cara had already declared he was a “lovely young man,” and felt comfortable having him around. The fact that he often sat on the floor and played with Hope helped solidify that opinion. Hope couldn’t pronounce his name and it came out “Don,” so John’s nickname around the beach house became Uncle Don. Emmi was over the moon about their friendship and her matchmaking arrows were flying.

Linnea wasn’t interested in falling in love this summer, however. This brief period at the beach was becoming an extraordinary time of self-discovery. A hidden self was emerging—independent, courageous—that had previously been tucked away by a lifetime of feminine inhibition.

Part of this awakening came from her time out on the ocean. She found that being on the water heightened her perceptions and her senses. She carried the peace of the sea with her throughout the day, tackling tasks with an ease that brought tranquility not only to her but also to the household. Cara had commented on it several times: “You have such a lovely calm about you,” she’d say. Or, “I never for a moment worry about Hope when she’s with you.”

John’s coming and going also added a new dimension to her life. She’d always felt she had to be “on” with other men. With John, it was refreshing to share a common interest rather than a drink. They were friends first.

On such a day in early July, it was Linnea’s day for turtle duty so she couldn’t go surfing. The team was busy morning and night, since the females were still nesting and the earlier nests were beginning to hatch. When she stepped out of the house in her uniform T-shirt, Linnea was surprised to find John waiting by the door. He was clad in his usual swimsuit, but instead of a rash guard, he wore a turtle team T-shirt.

“John, good morning! I’m sorry, but I can’t go surfing this morning. I have to walk the beach for turtle duty.”