Page 40 of Dream a Little Dream

“I’m noting that you didn’t say can’t.”

“No. I didn’t.” A couple walked by, their hands loosely intertwined in that casual, relaxed way people in love often traveled. They lookedlike they’d been together for some time, comfortable and happy. They probably alternated who cooked dinner on weeknights and planned vacations for the holidays. Two weeks ago, I would have rolled my eyes. I didn’t tonight.Well, look at that. They seemed kind of sweet, actually. Interesting development.

“Why don’t we just see how it goes? You do your thing. I’ll do mine. We’ll see what takes shape. Or what doesn’t.”

“Diplomatic. Does that mean you’re sticking around?” Hope flared. I couldn’t deny it.

“For a while.” She leaned in, and I could smell her watermelon shampoo. I was instantly transported in time. I’d spent a weekend nuzzled into that shampoo once upon a time, the scent burned into my memory for all time. It was all Kyle to me. “And just between us, the new rental doesn’t compare to your place.”

I sat taller, ordering myself into the present. “Yeah? That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“It won’t be. I promise.”

This was getting entirely too dangerous. I made a show of hugging myself, tossing in a shiver for good measure. “We should probably get out of here before the temperature drops any lower.”

“C’mon. It’s autumn on this beach. It’s supposed to be chilly.”

“Maybe so, but it’s also a weeknight.” I began the process of standing up with a wrapped foot and crutches, which took way more effort than I would have imagined a week ago. Kyle was quickly on her feet assisting me.

“There you go,” she said, gathering our belongings and the blanket. “Looking like a champ with those things.”

“Crutches are from Satan. He invented them.” I paused. “Does that make you Satan’s helper?”

“That’s a little harsh, but I admit crutches are a pain. Piggyback ride?”

I was already walking. Correction,hobbling. “I’m good, thank you.”

“My car’s a little closer. I can drive you to yours.”

“Again, I’m all right.”

“Why won’t you let me help?” she asked from my right. She’d caught up easily, because I moved like a sloth on these things.

“Because I don’t want…”

“Me to get the wrong idea?” she asked resolutely.

“Yeah,” I said, hating the look I’d just put in her eye.

“Yeah. No. Trust me. I won’t.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Thank you for listening to me tonight.”

I paused and turned to her. “Thank you for the insight into your last year. I realize you didn’t have to tell me everything that you did.”

“I wanted to.” She tilted her head. “Anyway. Have a nice night, Savanna.”

“You, too.”

Kyle remained on the curb near her black Audi while I covered the fifty extra yards to my car. I felt silly, realizing she was watching me lose steam as my tired arms turned to jelly. This really was a brutal workout, and I regretted my stubbornness fairly quickly. Maybe it was time I learned how to loosen my grip a little bit, and try and accept the fact that the world was not out to get me.

“Tall order,” I mumbled. I slid into the driver’s seat side with a small thud. My foot throbbed. My ego was bruised. My heart hung confused as hell.

* * *

Every bottle at Dreamers and Schemers, the town’s only true liquor store, seemed to come with its own personality. Honey brown whiskeys in bottles of all shapes and sizes lined one wall, while tall crisp, clear spirits decorated the shelves across the way. Even the labels battled for attention, some in silvers, golds, or bright eye-catching colors. The wide variety made a striking display.

I knew all of this because I’d been perusing the aisles for much longer than the average customer. The impetus? Charlie Kielbasa managed the store, who, in all likelihood, was also my half brother. The idea of a sibling was still so strange. It toyed with the only-child identity I’d claimed my whole life, right along with orphan. Still reeling from the news that neither was entirely true had me wandering the store for the occasional glimpse of Charlie, a man I’d paid very little attention to beyond an occasional hello at town functions.

“Have you tried the Tennessee Honey?”

---