Page 92 of One Southern Summer

Moping on the beach hadn’t provided any answers. Or eased his distress over losing her.

Brown pelicans soared over the Gulf Coast waves then dived into the surf. Cole sat alone under the canvas beach umbrella Hemby had planted in the sand early this morning. Families with young children basked in the summer sun, running in and out of the tide pools. A little girl about Addison’s age plopped down in the sand nearby. Another child joined her and their exuberant chatter filtered toward him as they ran back and forth, water sloshing from their buckets.

His heart fisted with regret and he looked away. Was this how it would always be? He’d slog through life forever reminded of what he’d had for a hot minute before he went and messed it all up.

That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?

Hemby wasn’t even out here, and Cole still couldn’t escape his best friend’s snarky insights.

He pulled another can of soda from the cooler stationed beside his chair then popped the top and took a long satisfying sip. Burrowing his feet deeper into the warm sand, he stared out at the horizon. The tide had slowly crept in since he’d parked in his chair shortly after breakfast. Now the sea-foam lapped closer to his toes. A toddler screeched as it touched his bare feet then ran into the arms of the grown-up standing watch nearby.

Was Hayes going to be crawling soon? Did Avery plan to bring her kids to the beach this summer?

He took another sip of his soda and tried not to think about Hayes and Addison. After his colossal failure of an apology and Avery’s prompt rejection, Hemby had hauled his pathetic tail down to their condo in Gulf Shores. Cole mentally waded through the muddled wasteland that was his brain and made a note to get Hemby and his wife a gift certificate for a nice dinner out. They’d been more than gracious to him as he tried to piece his shattered heart back together. A week had passed and he’d made almost zero progress. Their time away from reality was ending. Hemby had to get back to Camellia and Cole had a grueling schedule to keep. After his conversation with Avery, he’d requested that Millie Kay pack the next three months with as many fundraising and speaking opportunities as possible.

Turned out that wasn’t all that difficult when one’s photo had gone viral.

When Millie Kay sent him his itinerary, he’d initially regretted leaving town when the expansion project was about to wrap. But Dale had been stellar to work with and Cole had no doubts about Avery’s ability to oversee the final phase of the project. Max and Charlie had both texted to let him know the documentary was moving into production phase. They had already closed the deal with a major streaming platform.

In a serendipitous turn of events the board of directors at the foundation had hired someone to manage converting the old factory into a usable facility. Avery’s vision for a product line of women’s lotions and candles made by women was quickly becoming a reality. Not that he’d bother telling her. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Since he’d been at the condo with Hemby, he only slept in fits and starts, often waking from a terrifying nightmare. It always involved trying to save Avery from a burning building or rescue her from a vehicle dangling over the edge of a cliff. Every time, he woke gasping for air, his T-shirt soaked with sweat and the sheet tangled around his legs.

This couldn’t be his new normal. Could it?

He blew out a breath and tipped his head back against the edge of the chair. The familiar scent of coconut and cocoa butter wafted toward him. He’d tried to protect her. Instead, he’d ruined everything.

When would he learn that the people he loved always got hurt?

“Hey.” Hemby plunked a chair next to his and held out a sub sandwich wrapped in paper. “Are you hungry? This is turkey and Swiss, no tomato and extra mayo.”

Cole stared at the food, taken aback by Hemby’s thoughtfulness. “Thanks, man. I’m starving.”

“Thought so.” Hemby sat down then put a plastic grocery bag on top of the cooler. “I brought chips, cookies and more water.”

Cole unwrapped the sandwich and took a generous bite. The fresh bread combined with the salty deli meat, his favorite cheese and the tangy mayo hit the spot.

Hemby tossed him a small bag of his chips. Cole caught it before it slid off his lap and into the sand.

“What have you been doing out here?” Hemby asked around a mouthful of food. “Reading?”

Cole’s gaze swung to the unopened paperback—a thriller written by one of his favorite authors—sitting on top of his flip-flops. He reached for his soda. “Thinking.”

Hemby paused, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Yeah? How’s that working for you?”

“Not great.” An attractive young couple walked between their chairs and the encroaching waves. The guy pulled the girl closer, and she smiled up at him. Then they stopped and shared a kiss. Cole scowled. Was everyone on this entire beach in love except for him?

Seagulls swooped in, hovering over the sand nearby. Hemby shooed them away.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hemby asked.

Cole set his sandwich down on the wrapper he held in his lap. “Why am I such a disaster when it comes to relationships?”

Hemby squinted at him, his mouth hanging open.

“Huh.” Cole ripped open the bag of chips. “I can’t recall the last time you were speechless.”

Lifting his visor, Hemby scratched his head then jammed the worn brim down low on his brow. “It’s, uh, tough to put a positive spin on this one, buddy.”

“So I am a disaster.”

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