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He settles in the space at my side, offering me one, and we sit in silence for a little while, doing nothing but watching his friends and the many other people randomly making their way down the sand.
After several minutes, Chase sits back with a sigh. “It’s not usually this busy here.”
I look his way, and he continues, his eyes staying on the passersby.
“Summer always gets a little crazy. Everyone wants to hit the beach at least once, and they drive in from all over to find a spot like this.”
“Not a fan of big crowds?” I wonder.
He shrugs, taking a long drink. “I don’t know, I guess I don’t like…change.” He trails off, like he’s not so sure that’s the right word.
I’m not so sure it makes sense in context, but I do sort of get what he’s saying. If you’re used to something being a certain way, a crowd of strangers will definitely throw that off.
“The best time to be here is, well, about when we have to leave.” He chuckles. “August, September. You should stick around. I think you’ll like it.”
When I glance his way, I find he’s already staring, and around us, the voices of the others grow louder, the boys headed this way.
“If the gang gets to be too much, let me know,” he says before standing up and catching a ball no one warned him was coming. Mason appears then, throwing his arm around his best friend.
“We’re playing heads-up, and you’re on our team. Win and get whatever your little heart desires.” Both boys smile down at me, and I can’t help but smile back.
They step away, setting up to play on the picnic table, so I take a moment to myself, realizing the heaviness that is my life has been absent nearly all day, and in its place is an easy lightheartedness I’m not sure I’ve ever known.
As the day turns to night and I look out over the never-ending blue waters ahead, I can’t help but wonder…
What if…what if coming herewasn’ta mistake?
My gaze travels over the people I’ve met this week, my eyes catching on Mason’s briefly before they continue across the horizon.
Tentatively, maybe even subconsciously, my hand falls to my belly.
What if I’m right where I’m meant to be?
CHAPTER THREE
Payton
Now,July 3
“Knock, knock.”The soft whisper has me looking toward the hall to find Mia sneaking in on her tiptoes.
Deaton whips his head around so fast he almost falls off my lap and instantly starts speaking baby talk as he clenches his hands together in excitement at a new face to play with.
I lift him, spinning him to face her on my lap, and take his hand, waving it at her. “Say hi, Mia.”
“So he is awake,” she singsongs, her feet carrying her faster across the room until she’s stealing him from my arms and lifting him into the air. “And here I thought you didn’t come to brunch because someone was napping.” She points a raised, red brow my way.
“So what’s up?” I ignore her comment, pushing to my feet and using the moment of free hands to pick up the mess of toys, socks, and more.
“Oh, you know, another day, another shitstorm.” Mia follows me into the kitchen, Deaton in her arms.
I give her a questioning look and drop my head back dramatically, laughing when Deaton tries to stick his hand in her mouth.
“So I have a problem. Well, not me, and honestly, I don’t even know why I’m trying to help at this point, but?—”
“Mia, come on.” I fight a smile. “Out with it.”
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. “Ever wanted to photograph a wedding reception?”
