Page 3 of The Sandover Beach Billionaire

Chapter Two

Jackson barrelledthrough the double doors at the back of Bohn’s, sending them crashing into shelves on either side. Once inside his windowless office, he threw his apron down on his desk. His breath came in short pants and his fists were almost vibrating with the need to punch something. Instead, he closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and spread his palms flat on the desk.

Let it go. Let it go. I can do all things through Him.

Let. Go.

Even though he saw Jenna the night before on the beach access below his house, Jackson hadn’t been prepared to run into her this morning. Especially not when he was wearing a Bohn’s apron, restocking shelves. No wonder she thought that he was a minimum-wage employee, not the owner of Bohn’s and about half of Sandover Island.

Would it even have mattered to her? Jenna was hardly the shallow type. She probably wouldn’t be impressed with his beach house or care about the fortune Wells Development had amassed for him over the past fifteen years since his father retired. She probably wouldn’t even care how much of his salary Jackson donated every year to various charities. Jenna’s opinion of him formed some twenty years ago and was clearly stuck there.

Why had he thought that might change?

Jackson had been waiting for Jenna to return to Sandover since her mother’s funeral. Because of Wells Development, Jackson kept up with real estate and knew her mother’s house still sat empty. He assumed Jenna or Rachel would come back to pack it up and put it on the market. He had even driven by a few times, noting that someone still took care of the lawn, though the house itself was dark. After the weeks turned to months, Jackson wondered if he had been wrong to think Jenna might come back.

And then last night, there she was. Jackson had wandered out to the balcony, letting the ocean soothe his restless thoughts. Like a dream, Jenna stood on the beach access below his house, looking as beautiful as ever. Heart thumping in his chest, he had simply admired her in the moonlight. Her hair had grown out a little since he saw her at the funeral. She had always kept it long in high school: a golden brown with the slightest wave to it, more if she spent time on the beach. Short hair suited her, framing her heart-shaped face beautifully in the moonlight as the wind whipped it over her cheeks.

Even from a distance he could sense the sadness that still clung to her. She had just lost her mom, but Jackson also heard somewhere that she had gotten divorced. No details, just that her marriage ended. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her shoulders low and stiff.

Jackson felt like a coward watching, when all he wanted to do was run down all three flights and hold her. Instead, when she happened to look up, Jackson simply waved. He opened his mouth to call out, but Jenna hurried away. The way she practically ran back to the car should have prepared him for the disdain that dripped from her voice this morning.

Like a fool, he had hoped to get a second chance with the one girl he had always wanted. You weren’t supposed to fall in love when you were sixteen and carry that love, unrequited, until you were a few years shy of forty. Not that Jackson hadn’t done his fair share of dating. He had. But Jenna stayed with him, mostly in the back of his mind, until he saw her again at the funeral. Then it was like that high school crush fanned into hot flames of something much deeper. He didn’t want to really think about the feelings he had for Jenna. Especially since they were clearly not returned.

Jackson sank down in his office chair, feeling deflated. His anger still hummed under the surface, but for now, he wasn’t going to punch a hole in something. For years, Jackson thought his attraction stemmed from that whole wanting-what-you-can’t have thing. Jenna was always with that jerk Steve, at least until their senior year when she finally wised up. After the breakup, Jackson had asked her out, but she said no. Stupidly, he tried to hook up with her sister Rachel to make her jealous. That not-so genius plan backfired and led to one of the moments he was most ashamed of.

Jackson didn’t start the rumors about him and Rachel or even confirm them, but the story spread anyway. The whole school thought he slept with Jenna’s sister, when he hadn’t so much as kissed her. He did find the source of the rumors and put a stop to it, but that wasn’t enough. Rachel and Jenna both got hurt and he knew that they blamed him. He should have done more.

What he had planned to do when he talked to Jenna again was to apologize. The year before, Jackson had gotten to apologize to Rachel when she and her husband visited Mrs. Monroe. He had pulled Rachel aside in the parking lot as she walked with her family to the car. It had been awkward, but Jackson let the apology tumble out. Through experience he had learned that apologies were best when sincere and unplanned. You couldn’t ever contrive the right words. It had to be from the heart. Rachel had surprised him with easy forgiveness—and a hug.

Rachel may have forgiven him, but obviously Jenna didn’t. She made that more than clear this morning, cutting him down to his knees dressed in yoga pants with sleep-ruffled hair. Despite her cruelty, Jackson found her unbearably attractive, even in her messy morning state. He wanted to run his hands through her hair.

Jackson groaned. Why had he talked to her about cheese? Why didn’t he start with an apology?

“Everything okay back here, boss? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His store manager, Mercer, stood just inside the doorway of his office, as though she could tell he needed a little space. He hadn’t even heard her come in.

“Something like that.”

“Do you … want to talk about it?”

Jackson smiled at the hesitation in her voice. Usually Jackson was the one asking her if she needed anything. She never did. Mercer was only twenty-two and he had become something of her mentor. Sometimes he suspected that she saw him as a father figure, even though there was only sixteen years between them. His best friends were her age, but the distance seemed greater between Jackson and Mercer. He didn’t mind, as the last thing he wanted was to blur professional lines with any hint of attraction.

As proficient as she was at her job, Mercer kept a bit of mystery about herself. A few months ago, she had showed up at Bohn’s looking for work. Jackson took one look at her and got the impression that she was running from something. And if he used so much as the wrong word, she would run again. Jackson remembered her deft avoidance of questions about her past when he interviewed her. He recognized this because he was always trying to avoid talking about his own past. He gave her a job, half-expecting her to leave in a few months without telling him.

Mercer started as a bagger, then moved up to cashier. When Jackson started noticing small improvements around the store, it took him a week to realize that Mercer was responsible. The produce section was rearranged in a way that had customers thanking him. His office was suddenly clean, his files organized. Hand-lettered chalkboard signs appeared around the store. Jackson had promoted her to store manager and Mercer continued to surprise him. She still hadn’t opened up, but he could tell that she had started to feel safe here.

“I don’t want to talk, but I appreciate you asking. I’ll be fine. What’s happening this week?”

“One of the produce shipments was delayed, but that’s fine. If we need to, I can send someone Off Island to a produce stand. They always have a great selection.”

“I like staying local. If we run low, do it.”

Mercer pulled her lip between her teeth, a tell that Jackson had come to recognize. Usually a great idea followed. “I was thinking … Actually, maybe this isn’t a good time.”

“No, tell me. I have a moment.” And it would take his mind off Jenna. At least for a few minutes, anyway.

She hesitated. In his current state, he just wanted to yell at her to spit it out, but he had learned with Mercer that if he waited, her answers were worth it.

“I was thinking maybe we could have a section of the produce department sourced locally. The farm stands along the road coming onto Sandover have had a hard time staying open the last few years. This would help them and appeal to locals On Island.”

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