Barefoot by the Sea

“I want to.” She scratched Tessa Galloway above her typed name. “Here.”

He took the pen, looking miserable, unable to do anything but stare at the document.

“You said Henry will arrange the annulment,” she reminded him. “This is a formality.”

He squeezed the pen in a death grip, staring at the certificate. “It’s not a bloody formality to me.”

“It’s a way to get your children, and that’s all that matters.”

“Is it, Tessa?” He didn’t look up from the paper, but his jaw clenched tight and a vein in his neck throbbed at about the same rate as her heart. “Because I think it’s a fucking lie.” He tossed the pen on the table and took a step back. “And we made a promise never to lie to each other.”

“You’re not lying to me,” she said softly.

He turned to her, eyes blazing. “I’m making a mockery of marriage and of us. I won’t do that. When I sign that, it’s forever and it’s real. I won’t do that for some stupid board who thinks they know what’s right for me and for my family.”

She fisted her hands, fighting another wave of emotion and dizziness. “Your family consists of two little children, one of whom is sick. I am not part of this decision.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

An impatient tap on the door made Ian step back and look around the room.

“I need a piece of paper,” he said. He scanned the living room, seeing none. “Damn it.” He took the marriage certificate and ripped a corner off, then grabbed the pen to write on the scrap. “This is Henry’s secure, private, and totally trustworthy number. If you ever need anything, absolutely anything, or if you want to get a message to me, call Henry.”

He stuffed the paper into her hand, then grabbed her fingers and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. Tessa closed her eyes and nodded into his chest, his heart hammering against her, yet not loud enough to drown out her thoughts.

Go with him, you idiot! Go!

But she simply couldn’t move.

He slipped out of her arms, brushed her hair back one last time, and gave her a smile. “I don’t blame you, Tess. Not at all.”

“Okay. Bye.” She closed her eyes and turned away, incapable of watching him walk out the door. When she finally opened her eyes, she focused on the scene out the window in front of her.

The hot-air balloon was lifting off, surrounded by the people she loved, all cheering and waving and wishing them well. Everyone was too immersed in the excitement to notice the groom walking across the path, on his way to a car that would take him away forever.

Forevah and evah.

She squeezed the shell so hard she thought she heard it crack. But it didn’t. The seashell was stronger than that. Only her heart was broken.

Chapter Thirty-one

The verdict’s in. Meet at my house. Now!

Lacey’s text went to all three of her best friends and business partners simultaneously. Instantly, Tessa dropped the composting fork and pulled off her gloves, throwing them on a work table as she headed out of the gardens toward Lacey’s backyard.

It had been two weeks since the wedding planners left Barefoot Bay; and, of course, two weeks, one day, and fourteen hours since John had left.

Stop counting, Tess.

Her friends had surprised her by accepting the “family emergency” explanation—though she’d caught their looks of worry and pity when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. However, Willow, Arielle, and Gussie hadn’t been quite so understanding and, with the groom gone, the reception fizzled. And so, they feared, had their chances of being a “recommended resort” at the next meeting of the American Association of Bridal Consultants.

Willow said she’d be calling Lacey today to deliver the final news, and they’d all agreed they wanted to be together for the announcement. Tessa’d done a masterful job of avoiding her friends for the better part of the past two weeks, even begging off as sick for the Thanksgiving feast Lacey had hosted. That hadn’t been a lie; heartache had wrecked her physically and emotionally, and her friends had read her cues perfectly. But that couldn’t last too much longer.

Especially if the AABC said they thought the wedding had been a bust. Then there’d probably be some serious questions sent Tessa’s way. She’d stick to her story: The wedding wasn’t real and she’d never expected a drifter like John Brown to stick around long. His inexplicable “personal emergency” was the excuse he needed to disappear from any emotional entanglements.

And, honestly, none of that was a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

“Hey, Aunt Tess.”

She stopped at the urgent but soft cry, peering into the shade of a live oak tree at the edge of Lacey’s property. “Ashley?”

She stepped into the light and gave a frantic wave for Tessa to come closer. “I need to talk to you.”

Tessa didn’t hesitate but headed right toward Ashley, whose ruddy cheeks and mascara smudges told of tears. “Boy troubles again, hon?”

Ashley shook her head, taking Tessa’s hand to pull her around to the other side of the tree. “Worse troubles. I’m late.”

“For what?”

Ashley let out a dry, uncomfortable laugh. “I’m late.” She pointed to her stomach.

Realization dawned and Tessa nearly swayed as she reached out for Ashley. “How late?”

“I don’t know, I never tracked it very well, but…” She balled up her fists in front of her mouth as if the words horrified her. “I haven’t had a period for a long time, Aunt Tess.”

Oh, good God. “How long?”

“Long.” Her voice was tight with terror as she cupped her face in dismay. “My mom’s gonna kill me.”

“Your mom…” Has been there. “Is never going to hurt you and will always love you.”

“I know, but”—she closed her eyes—“I can’t believe it happened after one time.”

What was the name of that book on her shelf? Every Drunken Cheerleader…Why Not Me? Except Ashley wasn’t a drunken cheerleader; she was the closest thing to a daughter Tessa would likely ever have, and this wasn’t funny.

This was real, and the implications were huge. “Have you taken a test?”

Ashley held up a white plastic bag from the pharmacy. “I had to drive to the mainland to get one. I couldn’t exactly pop into the Super Min or Charity would be on the phone with my mom before I got out of the parking lot.”

“But you haven’t taken the pregnancy test yet?” Then there was still hope this was a false alarm.

“I don’t think I have to. Lately I’ve been feeling so icky. Like I was sick all the time, but not sick, you know? And dizzy. Every time I stand up I feel like I smoked something, and, trust me, I didn’t.”

“That could be anything.”

“I Googled it and those are definite signs.”

“They’re also symptoms of your allergies,” she said, grabbing at desperation straws. “Pollen’s bad right now.”

“The only thing I’m allergic to is Marcus Lowell.”

Who’d quit the day after John left. “Have you told him?”

“He booked, Aunt Tess. No one’s seen or heard from him for weeks.” She rolled her eyes. “Man, can we pick ’em or what?”