Chapter 1
Everyone left Serenity by the Sea at some point. Many came back. Kassidy Russo fisted her hand around her morning find of green sea glass as a reminder that coming back hadn’t been a sign of failure. Sea glass was once nothing more than a bottle or dish dumped in the garbage, but after time in the ocean, the broken pieces swept up to shore, smooth with the salt water’s help, now speckled and beautiful. She wanted to be like the sea glass. Everyone should be allowed to recreate their lives at least once. Well, okay, maybe more than once.
She had picked up the old habit of collecting sea glass after her father took his final swim in the surf last month. She used to tease him about his constant pursuit of the ocean-worn glass that in some cases could be hundreds of years old. He loved wandering the beach at low tide, wearing his floppy sun hat and carrying a bucket in his hand. Her heart ached some. She missed her dad.
Kassidy brushed her long hair away from her face in a never-ending battle with the wind rolling off the ocean. She forgot a hair tie for her morning walk. She had been focused on other things instead. More important things. Matters that would change her life. Hopefully, for the better.
She walked past the dunes and onto the weathered boardwalk made gray by sun, sand, and spilled bottles of Coppertone. She had one stop to make before she returned home and cleaned up for the meeting with her sisters. Her flip-flops smacked the cement sidewalk as she navigated her way down Main Street past the small shops owned by locals. Most of the stores weren’t open yet, except for Bella Notte bakery.
“Ciao, Kassidy.” Giovanni DeFazio stopped sweeping the pavement outside the bakery and leaned on the broom. His arms were still corded with muscles even at his age. Muscles that lifted fifty-pound bags of flour since the 1970s and his arrival from Italy. His bright smile and blue eyes were as constant as the solar-powered streetlights up and down Main Street. She craved one of his giant chocolate chip cookies, the size of her head. Ever since she was a child, those cookies were a special treat when things went right or like today, when she was nervous.
“Good morning, Mr. D.”
“Where are you headed so early?” His accent was faint, but still detectable. She liked the way the Italian language made any word sound soft and romantic. She could use a little romance in her life. Not a relationship. That wasn’t in her plan, but a bouquet of flowers or someone who could sing a love song might be nice for a night.
“Home. My sisters are coming today. I need one of your masterpieces this morning for courage.” The extra sugar would take her jumbly nerves to the next level of hyper, but her brain associated calm with dessert and who was she to argue? Her sisters’ arrival had her wrapped up like a rubber band ball. They didn’t always see eye to eye, and for once she needed them to see things her way.
“Sometimes family requires a little bit of courage. Come inside. My chocolate chips are fresh from the oven. Your favorite.” Mr. D leaned his broom against the wall and stood back to let her enter first. He was old-fashioned in his ideals, but his heart was in the right place, and she didn’t mind. He was like the grandfather she never had.
The bakery smelled of just-baked bread and warm sugar. Her mouth watered as she approached the pastry case filled with goodies in pastels and primary colors. She wanted one of everything but would settle for the chocolate chip.
Mr. D wrapped the cookie in wax paper and handed it over the case. She gave him a five. “Keep the change.”
“Ah.” Mr. D waved a hand in the air. “Keep your money. You’re a young woman, by herself. When are you going to get married?”
“I’m forty, Mr. D. At my age, I may never get married. And I will pay for the cookie, but thank you for the sweet offer.” Her solitary existence could behave like a hanging scab, painful at the most unexpected times, even if these last months she didn’t have time for a man. Not with her dad being sick.
Out of habit, she glanced at her phone. “I didn’t realize the time. I need to go. I’m running late. Thanks again for the cookie.” She pushed the five across the counter.
“Ah. Always running. You’re like my granddaughter. Busy. Busy. Busy. Afretti. Don’t be late.” He waved her on.
She hurried the rest of the way home, wanting to wash off the salt water from her legs and put on clothes that said smart, confident, and capable, not sea glass searching bartender. Everything had to go as planned. She had too much to lose. She glanced at her lucky find of sea glass she had shoved in her pocket. Beauty or trash? Depended on who did the looking.
Turning onto her street, the toe of her flip-flop caught the uneven sidewalk. She tripped but righted herself before face-planting and crushing her cookie treasure.
“Whoa. You all right there, ma’am?” A tall man wearing a baseball cap and dark hair to his shoulders hurried toward her. He sported a neat and clean beard, not a ZZ Top type beard.
“I’m good. Thanks.” She loved beards. A man with a little rugged edge made her insides hum as opposed to the clean-shaven type. Such a strange thought to have, but it was there, as clear as glass before it fell into the ocean.
“Your nose almost kissed the pavement.” A Southern drawl washed over his words. Not from New Jersey, that was for sure.
Working with her father in his tavern for the past decade made her an expert on locals versus tourists. She had wanted to change the fact The Blue Dot only saw the faces of the year-rounders, but she hadn’t been able to accomplish her goal because of her dad. He could not handle a departure from the norm. And then when he became too sick to care about anything but stopping the pain, talking about menu changes seemed frivolous.
“That’s what I get for hurrying.”
The hot bearded guy squinted and ran his gaze up and down the street. He let out a long breath and muttered a curse, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
“Are you lost? You look lost. I don’t have a lot of time, but I can direct you if you need some help.” She resisted the urge to check her phone again. Her sisters would probably arrive soon and she wouldn’t be ready if she helped this man, but something about him stopped her. He seemed almost familiar.
“I don’t need any help, thank you. I’m where I’m supposed to be. I’m waiting for someone.”
“Did you rent a tent for the summer?” The Topside Community was one of the most special qualities of Serenity by the Sea. The foldaway homes spoke of magic and wonder.
“My brother did. This was the address he gave me, anyway.” The stranger checked his phone, much the way she wanted to check hers.
His hands were large. Strong hands that looked as if they’d seen their share of hard work, but not so hard that his knuckles were snarled or scarred. Nice hands. Rugged hands. She shook the thoughts away. What was she doing, paying attention to the details of this stranger? But that was it. He was different and she wanted a change. She wanted to be like sea glass.
“Lucky you, then.”
“Do you live in one of these tent things?” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the small shed-style buildings.
“Me? No. I live in that tiny bungalow on the corner.” She pointed to her house with its white chipped clapboards, more storm cloud-gray than white these days and the faded black shutters because no paint job could last more than a season with the salt air.
She would love to live in one of the charming summer houses, but the homes were hard to come by, often handed down generation to generation. Untouchable.
“Why do people rent these?”
“Because they’re charming. They belong in a fairy tale.” She glanced down the street with a sense of pride filling her lungs.
“If you say so.” He arched a brow and pulled a face.
“I do say so. Give our little town a chance.” She loved her town and its quaintness with local owned businesses, people who knew their neighbors, and the ocean as their very own backyard playground.
Serenity by the Sea was an old friend that could be counted on for its sturdiness in harsh times and its gentleness on wounded souls. Memories were made on the surf and in the sand that lasted.
“I won’t be staying.”
“If you say so.” She echoed his words with a hint of sarcasm dashed on her own. She had overstayed her welcome.
An engine’s rumble grew louder as a sleek black car came toward them. She hesitated. The man inside waved, then parallel parked across the narrow street. Her curiosity kept her frozen in place when she would be better suited inside, cleaning up. But it wasn’t every day a handsome stranger came to town, even if he appeared a slight incorrigible.
The man hopped out, tall, like the man beside her, only lankier. Same coloring but dressed in pressed pants and a crisp button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. A corporate guy. Not her type. Corporate guys hadn’t been her type even when she thought they had been.
“Looks like you found the place,” this new person said, walking toward them. A hint of a Southern accent coated his words too.
She switched her gaze between the two men. Must be the brother.
“Levi, did you actually rent this place?” her stranger said.
Well, he wasn’t her stranger, but she did find him on the sidewalk right near her house like a shiny penny.
“You’re going to love it.” Levi sauntered across the street.
The two men faced each other, but neither one moved to shake or embrace. Instead, they stared each other down with a tilt of their chins and stiffness in their shoulders that looked ready to snap.
“I doubt I’ll love another one of your crazy ideas,” the muscular and unfairly handsome one said.
“Will you trust me?”
“No, thanks. No lame tents. Find me a hotel with some comforts.”
She should mind her own business, but this town and all it had to offer were part of her fabric. She had to defend it.
“Usually, anyone who is lucky enough to procure a tent for the summer, or even a week, is excited and looking forward to everything Serenity by the Sea has to offer.”
“Did you say procure? Who says that?” Her stranger, yes, her stranger, choked out a laugh.
“Someone who can read.” She clamped her jaw shut on the rest of the words bubbling to spill out. If she kept talking like that, he wouldn’t be anything but her enemy.
“Before you go insulting me, ma’am, maybe we should be properly introduced. My name is Grant. And this here is my little brother Levi, though he’s anything but little anymore.” Grant stuck out his strong hand. His smile was firmly in place. She hesitated for only a second, then slid hers into his grip and that wave of heat ran over her skin again.
Levi simply nodded.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to insult you. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get inside.” She eased her hand away, but the heat remained.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” A playfulness danced across Grant’s smoky eyes and his lip twitched up in a devilish smile.
She could assume this man knew he was a charmer.
“I guess you’ll have to wait to find out.” She hurried inside her house without looking back to see if Grant and his rigid brother were still on the street.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Had she just flirted with that guy? Grant might be nice to look at, but the last thing she needed was a man paying attention to her. She had no time for involvement. She had enough on her plate with her sisters coming to stay and the looming visit to the lawyer’s office. A lot rode on this visit.
In fact, everything.
She had picked up the old habit of collecting sea glass after her father took his final swim in the surf last month. She used to tease him about his constant pursuit of the ocean-worn glass that in some cases could be hundreds of years old. He loved wandering the beach at low tide, wearing his floppy sun hat and carrying a bucket in his hand. Her heart ached some. She missed her dad.
Kassidy brushed her long hair away from her face in a never-ending battle with the wind rolling off the ocean. She forgot a hair tie for her morning walk. She had been focused on other things instead. More important things. Matters that would change her life. Hopefully, for the better.
She walked past the dunes and onto the weathered boardwalk made gray by sun, sand, and spilled bottles of Coppertone. She had one stop to make before she returned home and cleaned up for the meeting with her sisters. Her flip-flops smacked the cement sidewalk as she navigated her way down Main Street past the small shops owned by locals. Most of the stores weren’t open yet, except for Bella Notte bakery.
“Ciao, Kassidy.” Giovanni DeFazio stopped sweeping the pavement outside the bakery and leaned on the broom. His arms were still corded with muscles even at his age. Muscles that lifted fifty-pound bags of flour since the 1970s and his arrival from Italy. His bright smile and blue eyes were as constant as the solar-powered streetlights up and down Main Street. She craved one of his giant chocolate chip cookies, the size of her head. Ever since she was a child, those cookies were a special treat when things went right or like today, when she was nervous.
“Good morning, Mr. D.”
“Where are you headed so early?” His accent was faint, but still detectable. She liked the way the Italian language made any word sound soft and romantic. She could use a little romance in her life. Not a relationship. That wasn’t in her plan, but a bouquet of flowers or someone who could sing a love song might be nice for a night.
“Home. My sisters are coming today. I need one of your masterpieces this morning for courage.” The extra sugar would take her jumbly nerves to the next level of hyper, but her brain associated calm with dessert and who was she to argue? Her sisters’ arrival had her wrapped up like a rubber band ball. They didn’t always see eye to eye, and for once she needed them to see things her way.
“Sometimes family requires a little bit of courage. Come inside. My chocolate chips are fresh from the oven. Your favorite.” Mr. D leaned his broom against the wall and stood back to let her enter first. He was old-fashioned in his ideals, but his heart was in the right place, and she didn’t mind. He was like the grandfather she never had.
The bakery smelled of just-baked bread and warm sugar. Her mouth watered as she approached the pastry case filled with goodies in pastels and primary colors. She wanted one of everything but would settle for the chocolate chip.
Mr. D wrapped the cookie in wax paper and handed it over the case. She gave him a five. “Keep the change.”
“Ah.” Mr. D waved a hand in the air. “Keep your money. You’re a young woman, by herself. When are you going to get married?”
“I’m forty, Mr. D. At my age, I may never get married. And I will pay for the cookie, but thank you for the sweet offer.” Her solitary existence could behave like a hanging scab, painful at the most unexpected times, even if these last months she didn’t have time for a man. Not with her dad being sick.
Out of habit, she glanced at her phone. “I didn’t realize the time. I need to go. I’m running late. Thanks again for the cookie.” She pushed the five across the counter.
“Ah. Always running. You’re like my granddaughter. Busy. Busy. Busy. Afretti. Don’t be late.” He waved her on.
She hurried the rest of the way home, wanting to wash off the salt water from her legs and put on clothes that said smart, confident, and capable, not sea glass searching bartender. Everything had to go as planned. She had too much to lose. She glanced at her lucky find of sea glass she had shoved in her pocket. Beauty or trash? Depended on who did the looking.
Turning onto her street, the toe of her flip-flop caught the uneven sidewalk. She tripped but righted herself before face-planting and crushing her cookie treasure.
“Whoa. You all right there, ma’am?” A tall man wearing a baseball cap and dark hair to his shoulders hurried toward her. He sported a neat and clean beard, not a ZZ Top type beard.
“I’m good. Thanks.” She loved beards. A man with a little rugged edge made her insides hum as opposed to the clean-shaven type. Such a strange thought to have, but it was there, as clear as glass before it fell into the ocean.
“Your nose almost kissed the pavement.” A Southern drawl washed over his words. Not from New Jersey, that was for sure.
Working with her father in his tavern for the past decade made her an expert on locals versus tourists. She had wanted to change the fact The Blue Dot only saw the faces of the year-rounders, but she hadn’t been able to accomplish her goal because of her dad. He could not handle a departure from the norm. And then when he became too sick to care about anything but stopping the pain, talking about menu changes seemed frivolous.
“That’s what I get for hurrying.”
The hot bearded guy squinted and ran his gaze up and down the street. He let out a long breath and muttered a curse, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
“Are you lost? You look lost. I don’t have a lot of time, but I can direct you if you need some help.” She resisted the urge to check her phone again. Her sisters would probably arrive soon and she wouldn’t be ready if she helped this man, but something about him stopped her. He seemed almost familiar.
“I don’t need any help, thank you. I’m where I’m supposed to be. I’m waiting for someone.”
“Did you rent a tent for the summer?” The Topside Community was one of the most special qualities of Serenity by the Sea. The foldaway homes spoke of magic and wonder.
“My brother did. This was the address he gave me, anyway.” The stranger checked his phone, much the way she wanted to check hers.
His hands were large. Strong hands that looked as if they’d seen their share of hard work, but not so hard that his knuckles were snarled or scarred. Nice hands. Rugged hands. She shook the thoughts away. What was she doing, paying attention to the details of this stranger? But that was it. He was different and she wanted a change. She wanted to be like sea glass.
“Lucky you, then.”
“Do you live in one of these tent things?” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the small shed-style buildings.
“Me? No. I live in that tiny bungalow on the corner.” She pointed to her house with its white chipped clapboards, more storm cloud-gray than white these days and the faded black shutters because no paint job could last more than a season with the salt air.
She would love to live in one of the charming summer houses, but the homes were hard to come by, often handed down generation to generation. Untouchable.
“Why do people rent these?”
“Because they’re charming. They belong in a fairy tale.” She glanced down the street with a sense of pride filling her lungs.
“If you say so.” He arched a brow and pulled a face.
“I do say so. Give our little town a chance.” She loved her town and its quaintness with local owned businesses, people who knew their neighbors, and the ocean as their very own backyard playground.
Serenity by the Sea was an old friend that could be counted on for its sturdiness in harsh times and its gentleness on wounded souls. Memories were made on the surf and in the sand that lasted.
“I won’t be staying.”
“If you say so.” She echoed his words with a hint of sarcasm dashed on her own. She had overstayed her welcome.
An engine’s rumble grew louder as a sleek black car came toward them. She hesitated. The man inside waved, then parallel parked across the narrow street. Her curiosity kept her frozen in place when she would be better suited inside, cleaning up. But it wasn’t every day a handsome stranger came to town, even if he appeared a slight incorrigible.
The man hopped out, tall, like the man beside her, only lankier. Same coloring but dressed in pressed pants and a crisp button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. A corporate guy. Not her type. Corporate guys hadn’t been her type even when she thought they had been.
“Looks like you found the place,” this new person said, walking toward them. A hint of a Southern accent coated his words too.
She switched her gaze between the two men. Must be the brother.
“Levi, did you actually rent this place?” her stranger said.
Well, he wasn’t her stranger, but she did find him on the sidewalk right near her house like a shiny penny.
“You’re going to love it.” Levi sauntered across the street.
The two men faced each other, but neither one moved to shake or embrace. Instead, they stared each other down with a tilt of their chins and stiffness in their shoulders that looked ready to snap.
“I doubt I’ll love another one of your crazy ideas,” the muscular and unfairly handsome one said.
“Will you trust me?”
“No, thanks. No lame tents. Find me a hotel with some comforts.”
She should mind her own business, but this town and all it had to offer were part of her fabric. She had to defend it.
“Usually, anyone who is lucky enough to procure a tent for the summer, or even a week, is excited and looking forward to everything Serenity by the Sea has to offer.”
“Did you say procure? Who says that?” Her stranger, yes, her stranger, choked out a laugh.
“Someone who can read.” She clamped her jaw shut on the rest of the words bubbling to spill out. If she kept talking like that, he wouldn’t be anything but her enemy.
“Before you go insulting me, ma’am, maybe we should be properly introduced. My name is Grant. And this here is my little brother Levi, though he’s anything but little anymore.” Grant stuck out his strong hand. His smile was firmly in place. She hesitated for only a second, then slid hers into his grip and that wave of heat ran over her skin again.
Levi simply nodded.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to insult you. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get inside.” She eased her hand away, but the heat remained.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” A playfulness danced across Grant’s smoky eyes and his lip twitched up in a devilish smile.
She could assume this man knew he was a charmer.
“I guess you’ll have to wait to find out.” She hurried inside her house without looking back to see if Grant and his rigid brother were still on the street.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Had she just flirted with that guy? Grant might be nice to look at, but the last thing she needed was a man paying attention to her. She had no time for involvement. She had enough on her plate with her sisters coming to stay and the looming visit to the lawyer’s office. A lot rode on this visit.
In fact, everything.
