Sea Glass Castle (The Carolina Coast Series Book 3) Read online

  Each time she tried to address him throughout the remainder of the day, Wes would cut her off with “Not now, Ms. Prescott,” so she knew it was bad. He hated her last name about as much as he hated the man who had given it to her and only used it when he was in a sour mood.

  After work, Sophia made a phone call to Opal, filling her friend in on what was happening and then asking for her help with a little snooping task. She picked Collin up and drove straight over to the Cole house. They let themselves in and found Opal sitting on the couch with Lincoln beside her.

  Collin toddled over and stood staring at Opal’s belly. It was becoming quite rounded and Sophia thought it was also quite beautiful. “Ofal, you gettin’ fat.”

  Before Sophia could reprimand him for being rude, Opal giggled and said, “It’s all Linc’s fault.”

  Collin narrowed his blue eyes at Lincoln. His little brow pinched. “You make Ofal fat?”

  Lincoln looked rather smug, smoothing the side of his scruffy beard. “Sure did. I’m right proud of it, too.”

  Opal swatted his arm. “That’s enough gloating. Why don’t you show Collin the rocking horse in the nursery?”

  Lincoln stood and offered his massive hand and Collin placed his tiny one in it as they walked off.

  Opal turned to Sophia once the boys were out of sight. “Wes left through his back door about ten minutes ago.”

  “Was he in running gear?”

  “No. Jeans and a tee. Should make it easier for you to find him.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Sophia slipped out through the deck door and kicked her gray suede pumps off before descending the deck stairs. Her toes welcomed the cold sand as the breeze ruffled her hair. Taking a fortifying breath, she soldiered past the sand dunes, peering left and then right. A sigh of relief tumbled out when she spotted Wes nestled between the two sand dunes in front of his deck. She trudged over and stood before him, but his eyes stayed focused on the ocean.

  “Are you going to explain to me why you don’t like me?” Sophia asked, deciding to open with a little sassing. She dug her toes deeper into the fluffy sand, waiting for him to banter back, but Wes remained mute. She tugged her pencil skirt up until she could bend and sit beside him, close enough to feel his warmth without touching.

  “You have to know what I feel for you goes beyond like,” Wes whispered, not taking his eyes off the waves crashing several feet away. A seagull swooped in and plucked at a piece of seaweed that had washed up on the shore before fussing about it and flying off.

  Once the bird was gone, Sophia asked, “Then why are you shutting me out?”

  “I’m not your family, so I have no rights.” His confession was almost exactly the same sentiment she’d shared in worry with her mother a while back, but it hurt worse coming from him.

  Hundreds of words wanted to be said, but each one stuck to her tongue. It wasn’t her place to start promising Wes more than what they were, if she wasn’t 100 percent sure she could deliver. She reached for his hand and whispered, “But you’re my best friend.”

  He finally looked at her, tears swimming in his sad hazel eyes. “I want more than friendship. It’s what I was trying, yet failing, to tell you Friday night.”

  Sophia had assumed as much. That kiss conveyed more than friendship. Dare she say love was written in the very action of it? “I know, but—”

  “But it’s complicated.” A faint smile whispered along his lips, not even distinct enough to produce his dimples, while he gently removed her hand. “And we need to stay focused on doing what’s best for Collin.” He moved his fingers back and forth between them. “He doesn’t deserve complicated.”

  As they stood and brushed off the sand, Sophia couldn’t suppress the urge to wrap her arms around him. The embrace was one-sided and sadly awkward, feeling like they had regressed back to how they were in the beginning. When it became clear he wouldn’t be returning the embrace, she let go and began walking away.

  “Sophia . . .” His voice trailed off behind her, echoing an edge of contriteness.

  She kept walking and threw her hand up. “Good night, Wes.”

  He was right. It was complicated. But he’d also proved he was too stubborn to overcome it to be with her. She wouldn’t beg. And she wouldn’t be made a fool of again.

  16

  Loneliness was something that had become a constant part of Wes’s life over the last four years. He’d come to terms with it being that way—until Sophia Prescott marched her sassy self into his life and demanded he pay attention. Now that she was only on the outer edge of his daily life at the office, he was lonelier than ever.

  Even at the moment, on a crowded pier, surrounded by locals shoving their way around to claim prime fishing real estate, Wes was lonely. From the briny smell of fish to the sharp wind, he could hear Sophia’s rant on it as if she were there by his side. Man, he missed her quibbling. Around the office they were back to a reserved uncomfortableness as they’d been at the beginning of the summer. Here it was closing in on December, and the frigidness wasn’t coming from Mother Nature.

  Wes trained his eyes on the gray water below, where the last hints of daylight kept touching it with gold flickers. He was flanked by Doc and Seth on one side and August and Lincoln on the other. What they’d done earlier could be considered kidnapping, but he brushed off the aggravation of being snatched off the couch and tried to make the best of this guys’ night out.

  “Man, you can tell the spots are running with all these folks out this evening. Y’all best have brought your A game if we gonna catch any supper.” Lincoln baited his double hook with a chunk of mullet, a shrimp, and topped it off with a bloodworm.

  “You need all that?” Seth asked, lacing only a single worm onto his hook.

  Lincoln motioned around at the large crowd. “There’s too many meal choices, so you gotta entice the fish to come to your hook instead of the thousand others bobbing in the water.”

  Seth and Lincoln set into going a few rounds on which bait was the best, but Wes tuned them out and cast his line with a single shrimp on the end. As soon as it had settled in the water, it was snagged. Without any theatrics, he reeled in the fish and put it in the cooler. He proceeded to do this several more times before the other four men could finish prepping their hooks.

  “Are you getting any nibbles, Doc?” Wes asked. He noticed the old man had lowered his hook into the water with no bait on the end. Looked like he could add senile to the Doc Nelson description.

  “Not yet.” Doc tipped his fishing hat, setting all the silvery lures pinned to it fluttering about. His cottony white hair danced around the brim.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier with some bait?” Wes began reeling in his line with another spot fish wiggling on the end. At least they’d have a feast shortly, if they kept biting like this. August’s father-in-law had said if they showed up at his place with a mess of fish, he’d have a pot of rice and some of his famous slaw prepared, with a cast-iron skillet of grease and his secret dredging batter ready for the fish. Wes’s stomach growled just thinking about it.

  “Don’t much feel like it tonight, kid. Figured I’d just grow me a sit, so we might have ourselves a chat.”

  Wes glanced at the other guys. They looked busy focusing on their fishing poles, but he knew better. His stomach clenched and he suddenly didn’t care so much about the upcoming fish feast. “I don’t have anything to say.”

  “Good. That’ll mean you can listen twice as much.” Doc leaned back in his metal foldout chair and eyed Wes. “That fool Ty Prescott has a hole in his bag of marbles and has no business actin’ like he’s taking a shine to Sophia Grace again. Sure gets my goat that he’s sittin’ in your pew at church while you off hidin’ from the world.”

  “I’m not hiding,” Wes snapped, placing the fishing pole against the rail. “And I won’t make her life complicated by participating in some cliché love triangle. That’s tacky and not my style. Plus, I think Ty’s in need of that pew more than I am.”
r />   “Thought you didn’t have anything to say?” Doc raised a bushy white eyebrow. When Wes’s lips remained pinched closed, he continued, “Sure, that boy needs to get a good dose of Jesus. But we’re here to discuss another problem tonight. Sophia is right back to being sad all the time. And that’s your fault.”

  Wes whipped his head around to retort, but August clasped his shoulder. “It’s true. She’s miserable. And I can tell you on good authority that she’s only keeping peace with Ty for Collin’s sake.”

  “And that’s why I’m staying out of the picture. No matter how much I hate the guy, he will always be that little boy’s daddy.”

  “Father perhaps, but he ain’t cut out to be a daddy,” Lincoln interjected, still working on catching his first fish. “He has his head too far up his own backside to notice his child.”

  “So you guys are here to gang up on me for what? To make me feel even worse for Collin?” Wes started packing up his stuff in the small tackle box he’d brought along, figuring the mile walk home would do him good.

  “No.” Doc wrapped his hand around Wes’s wrist. “We’re here to come up with a plan that will work in your favor, as well as for Sophia and her boy. It’s high time that cocky scoundrel figures out the sun don’t come up just to hear him crow.”

  August snorted. “Yeah, whatever all that means.” He pulled in a fish and dropped it in the rapidly filling cooler. “Me and Linc have been doing our part to make Ty sweat as much as possible when he comes around. He’s not cut out for taking much, so he normally tucks tail without much effort on our part.”

  “What do you mean by making him sweat?” Wes absently cast out his fishing line and settled back in his chair. He suddenly felt more like following wherever the conversation was leading.

  “Let’s just say he tends to lose his appetite around us. For someone who likes to use his fists, he ain’t got much tolerance when the pressure is turned on him.”

  “You’re roughing him up? Why ain’t y’all included me?” Seth whined while rebaiting his hook with another worm.

  “Nah. Nothing that extreme.” August shrugged.

  “Not lately, anyhow,” Lincoln added.

  “There’s just one thing missing, and that’s you, Wes.” August pointed at him. “We think from here on out, every time we have to be around the punk, you need to be there too. Time to make your presence known.”

  “Yes.” Doc waggled a finger at him. “And you’re going to start by gettin’ your behind back to church.”

  The guys finished filling the cooler and stepped over to the stainless steel sinks at the end of the pier to clean the fish. By the time they’d finished, arrived at Jasper’s, and devoured their weight in fish fried to golden-brown perfection, the guys had worked out a formidable plan. “Operation Ty Extraction” was what Lincoln called it. That was all fine and dandy with Wes, but life had other plans the guys knew nothing about.

  17

  There was a popular quote most locals knew around Sunset Cove and probably any other coastal town, saying beach life was different from life away from the shore. Time near the coast didn’t move by the hour; it moved by the currents, planned by the tides, and followed the sun.

  But Ty Prescott thought life moved when he said so. He was persistent, Sophia had to give him that. Tonight she’d finally caved and agreed to go out to eat with him. Just the two of them, he persuaded, saying they needed some time to talk. He drove her to the next town over to a great little sushi hot spot, and she decided to give it her best effort as well.

  Admittedly, the food was excellent and the conversation not half-bad. She noticed Ty trying to be attentive, catching himself when he began one of his me-me-me monologues. He was right cute about it, cutting himself off and redirecting the focus to her, and Sophia found herself smiling at him more during that meal than she had in years. It gave her hope that they could form a respectful friendship that would make the years ahead of coparenting more tolerable.

  “I’m thinking about looking for a piece of land inland,” Ty shared before taking a sip of water. “I’d like you to help me pick out floor plans.”

  Sophia chewed the edamame thoughtfully, wondering how best to answer. “Lincoln Cole is an architectural engineer. I bet he’d be the one to talk to about that.” She inwardly cringed at the same time Ty did so visibly, making her wonder if mentioning Lincoln had been her defensive reflex to keep Ty in his place. If it worked, then so be it.

  “Why would you even bring that guy up? You know what, never mind . . .” Ty shook his head and filled his mouth with another piece of sushi as if to help keep his comments to himself. “This yellowtail is so fresh.” He nestled a piece between his chopsticks and tried feeding it to her.

  The gesture felt too intimate, so Sophia plucked the bite from between the chopsticks and popped it into her mouth. “Hmm . . . so good,” she garbled out, making light of it.

  Ty somehow pretended the two small hiccups hadn’t just happened and moved on so easily that he even had Sophia questioning whether they had actually happened. And she could almost forget that the same hand that reached out to wipe the soy sauce from the corner of her mouth was the very same one that had split her lip. Almost. But she flinched, delivering another hiccup to the evening.

  This time, Ty didn’t ignore it. He jumped back, knowing where her reaction had come from. “Are you ever going to forgive me?” he whispered, looking down at his plate.

  Sophia watched him draw circles with the chopsticks, stirring the soy sauce and wasabi together. After a while, she found her voice and answered, “I have forgiven you, but I’m going to need more than a few months to forget.”

  Ty slowly nodded before lifting his eyes to meet hers. They were glassy and swirling with remorse. She waited for him to apologize again, but that never happened. After a few blinks and a forceful clearing of his throat, Ty went about finishing his meal in silence.

  Within the last several months, Sophia had come to appreciate silence when Wes was around. He wasn’t much for wasting words. But sitting here with Ty in silence was stifling. Nothing comfortable about it when it came from her larger-than-life ex. She could almost hear the gears whirling inside his brain and was worried about what they might be formulating. The only time she’d seen him that thoughtful and focused was on a football field.

  Please don’t be forming a play with me involved, she silently begged.

  Once they arrived back at the condo, Sophia was still waiting for Ty’s next move. Unfortunately, he didn’t disappoint. He helped her out of the SUV, and after closing the door, he gently pressed her against it.

  “Ty—”

  “Shh . . . Just give me a chance, babe. Please.” Ty’s words were a whispered plea. He leaned in, tucked a long lock of hair behind her ear, his eyes coasting every inch of her face. “No one compares to you . . .”

  Sophia’s heart lurched in her chest when Ty bent and pressed his lips against hers. Memories of their kisses skipped through her mind. Familiar and confident, energetic and skilled, Ty’s signature style. The very same style that used to leave her breathless and swooning.

  But not tonight.

  Suddenly she was tired of being Sophia Prescott. The woman who was trying to be everything to everyone and never her true self. It was time to stop being Ty’s puppet.

  Ty’s lips pleaded with her tightly locked ones to open, but Sophia kept him out. She raised her hands and pushed against his chest until he finally took the hint and stepped back.

  “Don’t do that again,” Sophia said evenly.

  “Babe, it’s time we fix this.” Ty pouted his lips and tipped his head to the side, still pleading.

  “There’s nothing to fix.” She was careful to make her tone resolute but not terse.

  “But what about our son?” He tossed his only leverage into the argument, but Sophia was done allowing him to play their son against her.

  “I will always love you to a certain degree, but . . .” She took a deep breath. “T
here’s been too much damage to repair our relationship back to the original, but I want us to work on repairing it to a new way. For the sake of our son, I want us to form a healthy friendship.”

  “Don’t close the door on it becoming more.”

  “Ty—”

  He raised his palms. “Let’s just leave it here.” He backed away and rounded the front of the SUV to the driver’s door. “Good night.”

  And just like that, Sophia was left in the parking lot watching as the taillights faded down the street. The man was tenacious to a fault, going whole hog when it was something he wanted. Too bad it wasn’t going to work in his favor this time.

  Sophia took in her surroundings for a few beats, listening to the chilly breeze rustling through the trees and the pond fountain tinkling on the water nearby. Smiling, she was right proud of herself for being strong enough to stand her ground. After releasing a fist pump, she turned her back on her toxic past and went inside.

  •••

  Come morning, Sophia’s smile was long gone. Releasing a pent-up growl, she yanked off the third dress, tossing it on top of the growing pile of clothes deemed uncomfortable. Nothing felt right. Either the fabric was too itchy or the cut was wrong. Surprisingly, the last one was a bit snug—evidence that her appetite had finally returned to normal.

  A quick glance at the clock on the way to the closet made her insides spasm with panic. The window for making a clean getaway was rapidly closing. The palazzo pants and a frumpy blouse—which should have been as comfortable as a pair of pajamas but wasn’t—would have to do.

  It was then, in a rush to grab her purse and dash into Collin’s room, that it hit her. The discomfort had nothing to do with the outfits. The day ahead was ill-fitting. She couldn’t figure out exactly why, except that she knew Ty would be present in it.

  “Let’s go, bub.” Sophia scooped Collin up from the mess of toys he was playing with, placed a kiss in the midst of his silky curls, and raced to beat the inevitable. “Shoot,” she muttered to herself as she hurried down the outside steps. “Too late.”