Beach Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories Page 2

  He stopped and stared at the ocean. She thought about tossing him in, but that would ruin two family vacations.

  “Tookie, I have to tell you something—”

  She cut him off. “Don’t you dare call me that.” He’d come up with her nickname freshman year in college, when she’d fallen off her bike, broken her nose, and suddenly become convinced it was too big. He’d jokingly called her toucan, or Tookie for short. After a bird, of course.

  “I’m sorry. Old habits.”

  She stomped her foot as the anger she’d been holding back rushed over her. “I’m a habit you got over pretty fast.” All those plans and preparations for the wedding—all the dreams they’d shared had disappeared like a summer sun shower.

  And she couldn’t handle the fact that the feelings for him were still there, flitting around her heart. It was a whole lot easier to be mad than admit that. “I’m sorry. I can be friendly when I’m around you for the sake of our folks, but I just can’t be friends.”

  And besides, there was the matter of her own personal revenge she’d carried out after the wedding was called off. If he found out, he’d never forgive her. She still was trying to forgive herself. No, it was well and truly over. So why waste time with useless chitchat when there was a perfectly good blueberry pie to be eaten up at the rental?

  She put her hat back on and left him standing there as she hurried back to the house. Then she remembered he’d wanted to tell her something. But what? She shrugged. Doesn’t matter now.

  Laughter drifted from the back deck as she neared the house. Nothing like knowing you’d be the buzzkill to ruin all the fun. She sat on the edge of the property by the fire pit, not ready to bust up the party.

  A few minutes later, her sister, Tina, wandered down the stone path and sat next to her. She pulled a candy bar out of her Port-A-Party. “You need this more than me.”

  Heather took it, chuckling. “Thanks. I could use a few more. Chased with vodka, maybe.”

  “I bet. How you holding up?”

  “I’m okay.” She looked up at Tina, then shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  Tina patted her hand. “You still love him?”

  Heather squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “But what does it matter now?”

  “Couldn’t the two of you try again?”

  Heather stared at a broken clamshell stuck in the sand. “It wouldn’t work. I’ll just have to suck it up and get through this vacation.”

  “You’re going to be seeing a lot of him, I’m afraid,” Tina said. “After the folks saw the two of you walking and talking—without any shouting or punching—they made plans for a cookout tonight. And a clambake tomorrow.”

  Heather groaned.

  “And cards over at the Hicks’ the night after.”

  “This was supposed to be our family reunion. Not a Parker-Hicks reunion.”

  Tina tucked her hair behind her ears. “Your breakup devastated everyone. We were all close with the Hicks. His sister was one of my bridesmaids, for crying out loud.”

  “I know.” Heather forced a smile. “I’ll learn to live with it.”

  Tina patted Heather’s knee. “Now why don’t you come find that vodka. Might make the whole thing easier to swallow. Get a few of those little hotel bottles and slip ‘em in the Port-A-Party.”

  Her parents were talking quietly with the Hicks when she walked onto the deck. A dozen or so orange-clad heads turned in her direction. Everyone quickly hushed and smiled at her. “Have a nice talk with Nick?” her mother asked, taking a long sip from the straw attached to her hat.

  “Yep. We’re good.” She set her hat on the deck railing.

  Was that a look between Mom and Nick’s mother?

  “Great. Honey, can you go get him and invite him over? They’re three houses down, you know, the big gray one? We’re all having dinner here tonight. Is that okay?” Her mom’s eyes were wide and hopeful.

  My Bummer Vacation. That was her reality, for sure. “No problem. That’ll be nice for everyone.” She held her breath. Time to hike up her big girl panties and get on with things. Nick was back in town and there’d be no avoiding him.

  “Wear your hat, honey!” Dad called after her.

  ***

  Nick tipped back his beer without realizing he’d already finished it. He knew he’d run into Heather at some point, but hadn’t expected to see her here. Speechless was one way to put it. Sorry was another. He had known almost immediately after breaking off their engagement that it was huge mistake. But he hadn’t had the guts to call the wedding back on after ruining everything. And could he ever explain to her the real reason he’d done it? He frowned. Probably not.

  He closed his eyes, remembering how beautiful she’d looked earlier, even in that hat. Although, it’d been pretty clear that she wasn’t interested in any kind of reconciliation, so there went that idea. When he opened his eyes, he was stunned to find her standing in front of him. His heart jumped into his throat. Was it wishful thinking? A beach mirage? Nope. She was really there, with those two cute freckles on her right cheek winking at him. He stood up and smiled. “What are you doing here?” Hope was a phoenix trembling in the ashes.

  “The folks want you over at our place. Apparently, our little stroll together was proof that you and I can play nice, so they’re having a Parker-Hicks cookout.” Then she turned on her heel and marched away.

  And the phoenix died another quick death.

  Once he reached the Parkers’ house, he was stunned to see how easily their families had fallen back into their friendly ways. Considering that after the breakup Heather’s brother had threatened to tie him naked to his roof covered in hot bacon grease for the seagulls to enjoy, he hadn’t expected to see this. Even little Emily had stomped on his foot, because she’d really had her heart set on being a flower girl. But there she was up on the deck, blowing bubbles with his sister.

  Huh. He just might ruin all the fun when he showed up. Truly, he wasn’t made to play the role of family screw-up. But he’d screwed up big time and they all knew it.

  As he walked up the stairs, no one seemed to notice. Conversations didn’t come to a screeching halt. Heather’s brothers and sisters came over and said hello—her brother, apologizing for the bacon grease threat, when petroleum jelly would have sufficed—and the get-together carried on as if he and Heather had actually tied the knot a year ago.

  But where was she? He scanned the place for her beautiful, long dark hair, her dimples and those denim-blue eyes that promised laughter and fun. Then he spotted her, bouncing his baby niece on her hip while talking with his sister.

  If there were a male version of the biological clock, his had just kicked in. You could’ve had that, he thought to himself. If not for those damn birds.

  Birds he didn’t actually even go study.

  Mr. Parker spotted him and clapped him on the back. “Glad you could make it, because I’ve got your Hicks Vacation Port-A-Party hat.” He settled the cap on Nick’s head.

  “Thank you so much, sir. I hope this is the invention that really takes off.”

  Her father nodded enthusiastically. “I think it could be the next Snuggie!”

  Crossing his fingers, Nick said, “Let’s hope so.” He looked around for Heather, but now he couldn’t find her.

  Heather’s mother hurried over. “Hi, Nick. Can I ask a favor? Can you go in the kitchen and help shuck the corn for dinner?” She had the same look of mischief in her eyes that Heather got the morning of his birthday, when surprises galore awaited in the most unexpected places. Not always welcome, either. A gray hare is funny in theory as a birthday gift, but not when you actually open it and it pees in the box. Were the Parkers going to make him pay a penance for their forgiveness? If that’s what it took, he’d do it.

  “Shuck the corn. Absolutely.” He’d once helped Mr. Parker repaint the side of the house when his fruit-scented fireworks didn’t turn out as planned. Shucking corn was nothing.

  Unless it’s s
ome sort of new hybrid self-popping corn Mr. Parker’s tinkering with, he wondered, a bit concerned about the chances of a kernel taking out his eye.

  He let himself into the kitchen and Heather sat in a chair, working on the corn. “Need some help?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and gave him the same big, I’m-gonna-hurt-you smile she’d once given Monica Duncan when she’d knocked her down on the soccer field. Heather’d only been a freshman, but Monica, a senior, had backed away.

  Didn’t matter. He wanted to be near her. He grabbed a cob of corn and sat down. Threads of corn silk and green husks littered the floor. “This is gonna be like the time we shredded confetti for New Year’s Eve and spent even longer cleaning it up afterwards.”

  She shrugged. “Sort of. Except we were a couple back then.”

  He wondered if she’d ever stop being angry. Then he remembered how she never forgave her sister for dyeing her Barbie’s heads instead of Easter eggs when she was seven, so probably not.

  “So, how were the Penguins?” she asked, with a big, fake smile on her face. “What did you have to do, count them?” She ripped off a husk with much more force than needed, he thought.

  “They were Puffins. And I had to mark nesting sites, tag the chicks.” Or, that’s what he would’ve been doing had he actually gone.

  “And here I thought you left me to bag some chicks. That hurts so much less.”

  He set down his corn. “It’s a huge coup to work with the Audubon society, Heather.”

  “But it wasn’t a big enough coup to be marrying me?” She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and looked away.

  Shit, she’s crying, he thought. He could handle her sarcasm, her temper, and the occasional bad mood, but when she cried? He was lost. He wished he had the courage to tell her the real reason he called the wedding off. But why hurt her more?

  He spotted Mrs. Parker peeking through the window and he started shucking faster. A few moments later, Heather’s niece, Emily, wandered in, sucking on a lollypop.

  He tucked his feet under the chair in case she was coming in for more flower girl revenge. Who knew little girls could be jilted, too?

  “Whatcha doing?” she asked in a singsong voice.

  Heather tousled Emily’s hair. “We’re taking the husks off so we can all have some nice corn on the cob for dinner. You remember Nick, right?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and nodded. “He’s the reason I couldn’t wear my pretty princess dress at your wedding.”

  “That’s right, kiddo,” Heather said. “And don’t you forget it.”

  “That’s okay. I wore it to kindergarten graduation and Jake Clark said I was pretty.” She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. Grandma says you guys’ll have another wedding and I can be in that one.”

  Heather dropped an ear of corn. “What?”

  “All the grown ups say you two are going to make up and kiss again.” She made a face. “Yuck. He’s got germs, Aunt Heather. He’s a boy. Can’t you just have a wedding with no kissing? And when is the new wedding?”

  Nick fought hard to hide his smile. If that was the plan, he was on board. “Come here, Emily.” He held out a hand and would be willing to endure another foot smashing if necessary.

  She looked uncertain. “Okay, but don’t kiss me.”

  “I promise. Listen, Mr. Nick was a big jerk. He did the dumbest, stupidest thing he’s ever done and ruined the wedding.”

  She shrugged. “Boys ruin everything. Just say sorry. But say it like you mean it. That’s what Mama tells me.”

  “Sometimes, sorry isn’t enough,” Heather said, plunking another ear of clean corn on the platter.

  “Maybe you could give her one of your toys,” Emily suggested.

  Nick looked at Heather and took a deep breath. “I would do whatever it took to get her back.”

  ***

  With a groan, Heather popped up from her seat and headed outside.

  “Done with the corn?” her mother asked.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she said through clenched teeth.

  Mom patted the back of her hair nervously. “Certainly, what is it?”

  Heather dragged her mother over to the corner of the deck. “Emily says all the grownups think Nick and I are going to get back together. And Nick says he’s on board.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s not going to happen.”

  Mom looked surprised. “We were just saying, wouldn’t it be nice? And Tina just told me you still love him.”

  She dropped her head back and looked up at the cloudless sky. When was she going to remember there were no secrets in her family? “I don’t care if the families are friends. It’s fine with me. But Nick and I are done.” Maybe if she kept saying it, she’d believe it.

  “Of course, darling. We wouldn’t do anything to interfere.” Her smile was big and wide, but her eyes wouldn’t meet Heather’s.

  And surprise, surprise, she ended up with Nick the rest of the night. The last seat at the picnic table was next to him. When she volunteered to clean the pots and pans, Nick showed up in the kitchen, explaining that his mother had asked him to do the cleaning up. And when the nieces and nephews were clamoring for ice cream, Nick and Heather were volunteered to take them.

  They climbed into his brother’s minivan and made the quick drive over to Scoopy’s Diner, with the big rotating ice cream cone on the roof. The place looked a little run down, but she remembered coming here with Nick years ago. She’d stolen most of his sundae, as she recalled. She certainly loved her ice cream.

  They sat at a picnic table next to the bug zapper, the kids cheering each time a bug met its demise with a buzzing jolt. The day was in that magical moment when it turned to night as the sun hit the ocean. They used to countdown the seconds until the sun disappeared. Nick must have been remembering it, too. He grinned at Heather, but she looked away. It would have been so easy to melt into his smile.

  Nick cleared his throat. “I asked the owner inside if your dad could sell some of his hats here. She said sure, bring ‘em on down.”

  “Thanks. That was really nice of you.” That was so like him. He was always thinking of other people, looking for ways to make someone smile, or help someone out.

  Except brides-to-be.

  “Want some of my strawberry sundae?” he offered.

  She took a lick of her cone. “No, thanks.”

  A bird landed near the picnic table next to them, poking around for crumbs. “Look, kids, it’s a Black Tern.”

  “It looks like a crow,” Heather said.

  He frowned at her; that’s what she said about every bird when she wanted to annoy him. Her trick still worked. Satisfied, she popped the last of her cone in her mouth.

  “My ice cream fell!” Nick’s nephew sobbed after the wobbly top scoop on his cone toppled to the ground.

  “We can get you another one, buddy.” Nick pulled a napkin from his pocket to dry the boy’s chubby cheeks. But he continued crying. Nick fixed him with a stare. “Do I need to turn that frown upside down?”

  The charming little boy tried to hide his giggles. “Maybe.”

  Nick made a big show of setting aside his sundae, standing up and picking up the boy. Then Nick held him upside down while he laughed and shrieked. Shells and tiny army men fell from his pockets. Soon, Nick had a line of pouting children who all needed their frowns turned upside down, too.

  Heather couldn’t help but laugh. He really was great with kids. He’d be a great dad someday. Of course, she’d thought that last year, too.

  After they drove home and ushered the kids off to their appropriate homes with squealing protests against such an early, unfair bedtime, Nick walked Heather home. “I left my Port-A-Party hat there. Don’t want your dad to feel bad. And I need to tell him about Scoopy’s.”

  “Thanks. I know the mockability factor is high here. But hopefully he’ll sell a few tomorrow.”

  “No problem. I apprec
iate your father’s enthusiasm. He never gives up. Gotta like that in a man. He goes after what he wants.” He looked at her, waiting for a reaction.

  But she ignored the comment, and walked quickly to the house.

  Their parents were sitting on the back deck when they returned. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” her mother said.

  “What’s up?”

  “Emily lost Mr. Boo. That’s her favorite stuffed kitty. You know, the raggedy purple one? She can’t sleep without him, and she’s pretty sure he’s down on the beach, somewhere in between our houses.” Mom swooped her hand through the air, indicating the general direction of the missing cat. “Can you and Nick go look for it?”

  “Of course,” he said, heading for the beach without question.

  Heather narrowed an eye.

  Pressing her hand against her chest, her mother shrugged. “What? There’s a nice full moon. You should be able to see really well.” Oh, her mother could really play the innocent. But it’s possible Emily really did lose it. When Meow-Meow disappeared, she was inconsolable for days until Heather showed up with Kitty Blue. Then he got left at a rest stop. That’s when Mr. Boo came along.

  “We’ll do our best to find it.” Heather tromped off down to the beach.

  “If you had a flashlight in your Port-A-Party you’d be all set!” Dad hollered after her. “I’ll have to add that to the demonstration.”

  Nick was walking along the shore, and since it was low tide, he was a ways out. She jogged up to him. “Any luck?”

  “Nope. I hope it didn’t get dragged out into the ocean.” He squinted, as if he might be able to spot it bobbing on the waves.

  She kicked a pebble along the beach. “I have a feeling it’s not actually lost.”

  He scrunched his eyebrows together. “What?”

  With a huge sigh, she crossed her arms. “Our parents are totally meddling, trying to get us back together.”