Seaside Kisses: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 4) (6 page)

Janelle pulled out a tissue and wiped her eyes. "No. Yes. I don't know."

"I can't pretend to know how you feel, but I can listen. I'm here for you." Amara rose and helped her friend over to the couch, glad Janelle didn't try to reach for the wine glass. "Do you need anything else? A blanket? Water?"

Janelle didn't answer, but she shook, so Amara grabbed a blanket decorated with cartoon characters from the love seat and covered her. Then she went over to the stereo and put on some soft music before sitting down.

"Talk. I'm all ears." Amara patted Janelle's arm.

"What's to talk about? He has a girlfriend. She's probably the reason he left me. Kyle said it was because I didn't pay enough attention to him."

"If he wanted attention, he could have asked," Amara said. "Don't take the blame. He's the one who left his wife and ripped apart his family."

Janelle looked at her, her eyes shining again. "I thought we were going to grow old together, you know? Be there together to send the kids to proms." Her voice cracked. "Cheer them on at sports together. Now we'll not only be apart, but
she
will probably be there for all that. How am I going to survive it?"

"Have you seen her at any of the kids' games?" Amara asked.

Janelle shook her head, dabbing her eyes. "But now that they know her, it's bound to be soon. How am I going to handle it? What am I supposed to do?"

Amara took a deep breath. She was way out of her territory, having been sheltered in Kittle Falls where almost no one divorced. It had been quite the scandal when Kyle left Janelle.

She took Janelle's hand. "We'll get it through it together, okay? If you're worried about going to the games and seeing them, or even just him, I'll be right there. If I have to rearrange my schedule with Alex at the shop, I will. He'll understand."

Janelle shook more, and then leaned against Amara.

"You'll get through this. The Janelle I know is the strongest person I've ever met."

"I don't want to be strong. I just want everything back the way it was."

Amara's heart broke for her friend. She looked around the room trying to think of something brilliant to say, but she had a feeling that just being there was the best she could really do. There was nothing anyone could say to make the situation better. She noticed pictures of them as a happy family and couple still sitting out where they always had.

Then she had an idea. "You know what you need?"

Janelle sat up, shaking her head. "What?"

"New memories. Fun times with your kids to replace the old photos sitting around here. If you spend all your time looking at those, it's no wonder you're miserable. It's time to look ahead to the good times waiting to be had."

"There aren't any. Not without Kyle." Janelle frowned.

"I think this calls for an intervention."

Janelle's eyes widened. "I'm not sure I like where this is going. Amara?"

"Yeah, it's exactly what you need—for your own good. Everything is the same in here. It's no wonder you feel like there's a giant hole in your life. It's time to turn this into Janelle's place."

Amara got up and gathered all the pictures with Kyle and put them in a pile, face down.

Worry covered Janelle's face.

"Now it's time to rearrange this living room. You always complained about the setup because of how Kyle insisted everything look. Time for your living room to stop feeling like a man cave, and open it up into a warm, welcoming place—just like you. The first thing we need to do is move this couch. Are you going to help, or do I have to move it with you sitting there?"

Janelle moaned. "I thought you were going to join my pity party."

"Nope. This is a rearranging party now." Amara grabbed one end of the couch and pulled until it reached the wall. She had to move a shelf out the way. "This thing is ugly anyway. I know you'll be glad to get it out of here."

Amara went back to the other end of the couch and pushed, but it resisted since Janelle still sat there.

"This would go a lot faster with some help."

Janelle got up, and then the two of them rearranged the entire living room, avoiding Janelle's cat who kept getting underfoot. Amara was surprised at how little Janelle fought her.

"You have to admit, this is a good start," Amara said, breathing heavily. "It looks like a whole new room—an improved one. Do you want anything from the ugly shelf?"

Janelle glanced at it and shrugged.

"Don't you think the TV would look better out of the corner and on the wall? You would have so much more room, too. Want to help me move it?"

"You know how to mount it on the wall?" Janelle asked.

"You'd better believe it," Amara said. "Living on my own, I've learned to do pretty much everything for myself."

It took some prompting, but Janelle helped Amara rearrange everything else in the room after the TV was set up on the wall. Before long, Janelle had taken over and was telling Amara where to put things.

After they were done, they'd collected a large pile in the middle of the room.

"I'll take this stuff out to the garage," Amara said. "You can decide later what to do with it. Sell it, donate it, whatever you feel like."

Janelle looked around. "I could sure use the money to get it painted."

"Garage sale?" Amara asked.

"Not this time of year."

"Then online. You'll get more for it, anyway."

Janelle smiled, finally looking hopeful. Amara felt good knowing she'd helped.

Six

Rafael sank into his parents' couch. It was the same one he remembered from high school. How many conversations had the couch been privy to? He had a feeling it would have a great many stories to tell if it could speak.

He remembered his first heartbreak. After returning home from the date where he'd been dumped, he'd thrown himself on the couch, buried his face into a throw pillow, and refused to talk about it.

Cruz sat next to him. "Kind of weird, huh?"

"What's that?" Rafael asked.

"Everyone else is either married or engaged."

"And Mom's not exactly subtle with her hints," Rafael said.

"Nope. But I'm going to hold my ground. What about you?" Cruz leaned back and put his hands behind his head.

"Me, too. I just want to focus on getting my store off the ground. The last thing I need is a distraction." Except that he already had one. And if he had any hopes of anything working out between them, he'd probably screwed that up. But it was probably a good thing he'd blown it with Amara. He truly didn't need a relationship.

"Exactly. I don't need no distractions." Cruz sat up and scratched one of the tattoos on his arm.

"New tat?" Rafael asked.

"Dragon." Cruz extended his arm. "It's going to take a few times to complete. It's going to wrap around like this," Cruz turned his arm around, sliding his finger along clear skin, "and then its tail is going to wrap around its neck."

"Cool. You going to color that one, too?"

"Not sure, yo." Cruz scratched the new ink again. "I think this one might look better black and white."

Rafael nodded. "I can see that."

Cruz leaned back and ran his hands through his hair. "Gotta keep from scratching," he muttered. He turned to Rafael. "So, want to be my first customer when I open shop?"

"I don't want any tattoos."

"Dude, tats are in right now," Cruz said. "You like being at the top of fashion, and I'm tellin' you, get one. It doesn't have to be huge."

"What would I get?" Rafael asked, not intending to consider the suggestion.

Cruz sat up. "You'd think about it, man?"

"Just asking what you think I should get. My credit card's staying in my wallet." Rafael laughed nervously at his brother's eagerness.

"Anything you want. I'd like to see all of us with matching
Mom
tats. Couldn't you see her face?"

Rafael could, and she wasn't smiling. "You know she hates those things, right?"

"They're growing on her," Cruz said. "She's actually been asking me about some of them lately."

"She likes to show an interest in our lives."

"Yeah, but she doesn't have tears in her eyes when she looks at them now."

Rafael shook his head. "That's your measure of success?"

"It's improvement. So, back to your tat."

"I never said I was going to get one."

"But you'd consider it."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this conversation?" Rafael asked.

"Oh, I know," Cruz said, looking like he had a stroke of brilliance.

"What?" Rafael groaned.

Cruz's eyes lit up. "Dude! That's it."

"
What
?" Rafael demanded.

"A thorny rose. The rose for your impeccable fashion sense, the thorns to show how tough you are. It's perfect, bro."

Rafael raised an eyebrow.

"If a flower is too girly, then we can add some blood dripping down the thorns. Oh! It's perfect." Cruz jumped up, looking around. He ran into the kitchen.

"What are you looking for?" his mom's voice drifted in from the other room.

"A pad of paper," Cruz said.

Rafael heard a drawer slide open. "Here."

"Thanks, Mom."

Cruz reappeared, holding a pad of paper and a pencil.

"What are you doing?" Rafael asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

"Drawing your tat."

"I didn't say—"

"Quiet. I need to concentrate." Cruz scribbled furiously, erasing every so often.

Curious, Rafael tried to peek, but the artist kept moving farther away.

Jake and Brayden came into the room, both glancing at Cruz and Rafael.

"Don't ask," Rafael said.

Jake shrugged. "Okay. We're going to hit the hoop. You guys want to join us? Zachary's already outside."

"What are the girls doing?" Rafael asked.

"You have to ask?" Jake asked.

"Talking weddings and babies," Brayden said.

"And you guys didn't want to join them?" Rafael asked, chuckling.

"Jake did," Brayden teased.

"Funny." Jake shoved Brayden.

Rafael rose. "You coming?" he asked Cruz.

"Hold on. You wait."

Rafael groaned.

"What?" asked Jake.

"I'm drawing Rafael's tat."

"You're getting a tattoo?" Brayden asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes," Cruz said.

"No," Rafael insisted. "I only asked him what he thought I should get. I never said I was actually getting anything."

"Done." Cruz put the pencil down. "What do you think?" He shoved the pad of paper at Rafael.

It was actually quite remarkable. The picture was a partially bloomed rose with an unnatural amount of thorns on the stem. A bit of blood ran down over the thorns, finally dripping off at the last one.

"You like?"

"Maybe."

"That's actually awesome," Jake said. "I could see that on you, Raf."

"Where?" Rafael asked, not on board.

"Your arm?" Jake asked.

"Upper or lower?" Brayden asked. "I could see it on the lower part, underneath. Then when he rolls up his silk shirts, it'll show."

"Oh, I like that," Jake said.

"Dude, yeah," Cruz said. He stared at Rafael. "You'll be my first customer, right?"

Rafael looked between his brothers. They all appeared to like the idea.

"Maybe," he said, turning to Cruz. "But you need to get your tattoo parlor first."

"I'm workin' on it."

"Better make it happen before I change my mind."

Cruz's eyes widened. "So, you're on board?"

"I said maybe."

"Yes. I finally talked one of you into it." Cruz raised his arm.

Rafael gave him a weak high-five.

"You can do better than that, bro."

Shaking his head, Rafael slapped his brother's hand hard.

"That's better. Now who's ready to play ball?"

They all made their way outside where Zachary was already warming up. They broke off into their typical teams—Brayden and Rafael against the others. Though, now that everyone was grown, it wasn't as fair as it once had been. Brayden and Rafael had to work extra hard, and still fell short.

"Next time, we get Zachary," Brayden said.

"Not a chance," Cruz said.

Rafael sniffed the air. "Do I smell peaches?"

"Mom's famous cobbler," Jake said.

Zachary threw the ball into the garage, and they all fought to get inside first.

"Boys," their mom said, shaking her head. "You should know I make enough for everyone."