Fans of Jennifer Weiner and Sunny Hostin will love this emotional dual-timeline novel about two former besties finding their way back to each other.
To heal their friendship, they’ll have to face their past.
About the Book
Jewel Stone has it all—the perfect marriage, a bestselling author career, her dream home—or so she likes everyone to believe. But between her writer’s block and her husband losing his job, her picture-perfect life is in shambles. And inspiration just isn’t hitting…until she receives a call she never expected: her former best friend needs her help.
When Shelby Andrews wakes up in the hospital after a biking accident, she can’t remember the last twelve years. She knows she owns a bookstore on the beach, but she has no memory of Lacey, her nineteen-year-old adopted daughter who’s away for the summer. There’s only one person who can help Shelby through this—her bestie, Jewel.
With so many secrets and heartbreaks between them, Jewel and Shelby haven’t spoken in years. Yet Jewel can’t turn away from the friend who doesn’t remember their fallout. Besides, the best writing she’s ever done was with Shelby…
But when they learn Lacey’s really spending her summer searching for her birth parents, their tentative reunion might just unravel along with all of their secrets.
C h a p t e r 1
Excerpt from That Was Then by Jewel Stone
The deleted prologue— April 7, 2006
Honey
The skyline was black tinged with purple as the waves lapped against the sands of Eagle Point Beach. All was peaceful, a stark contrast to the crowds of children and families frolicking during the day, but the calm waters were a shield for the fright wreaking havoc on her insides. Honey glanced toward the far end of the beach at a huge bonfire. The giggles and yells of college students living out their last hurrah before midterms began drifted to her.
With just the moonlight as a guide, Honey Graham and her best friend, Sugar Bean, crept up the steps of the landmark bookstore by the beach, hunched over, panicking at every groan of the wood. They had dressed in black sweat suits, jackets, boots, caps with their hair tucked underneath and, though it was pitch- dark, sunglasses.
“We’re missing all the fun,” Honey whined. “And I’m pretty sure I stepped on a crab.” Her top was soaked from perspiration brought on by the fear of being discovered.
“Would you hush? It was fun that got us into this mess in the first place,” Sugar whispered, holding a special package close to her chest. “You’re going to blow our cover. Besides, this was all your idea.”
“Yes, but anything seems doable in the daylight.” Even the most nefarious of plans. Especially those born out of desperation. Honey stepped on a loose board and froze as it creaked.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Sugar said. “Might as well just sound out on the blowhorn that we’re here.” She held out the package to Honey.
“I— I can’t,” Honey said, lifting her hands. “If I take it, I might not have the courage to do this.”
Sugar released a drawn- out sigh. “We agreed.”
“I know.” Her lips trembled. She folded her long legs and sat on the wood. “But I’m scared.”
“Everything will be all right,” Sugar said, her voice gentle. But Honey could tell she was trying to be brave. She was just as terrified as Honey was. She had just as much to lose. Sugar put the package on Honey’s lap, a gesture of defiance, and squatted beside her.
Honey touched Sugar’s shoulder. “Is there another way?”
“I— I don’t . . .” Sugar grabbed Honey’s hand and pulled it to her chest. “My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I’m about to pass out.”
“Breathe. Breathe,” Honey huffed out. “I can’t have you falling apart, because I’m already a basket case.” “Too late,” Sugar said, a hitch in her voice.
Carefully, the friends hugged and rocked, crying, consoling each other but making sure the box stayed upright. Head to head, they reassured each other. Everything will be all right. Honey swallowed the rising nausea. “If we’re going to do this, we have to do it now.” Resolute, she got to her feet and held out her free hand, ignoring her shaking legs.
“O- okay.” Sugar stood. She snatched Honey’s hand in hers, and they inched to the front door.
Honey covered her mouth and sobbed. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
“Me either.”
“Should we leave it by the entrance?”
“No . . . How about on the bench?”
“What if it falls? Or it rains?”
“I— I don’t know what to do,” Sugar rasped, sounding like she had chewed the end of her last rope. “There was no forecast of rain and the skies are clear.”
Honey wiped her brow. She wished they had planned out this part because the uncertainty made her want to heave. “Let’s leave the box by the plants in the back.” As soon as she suggested that, Honey knew it wasn’t the right solution.
“What if no one sees it? Or an animal comes by and messes with it?” Sugar wrapped her arms around herself. “We can’t chance that happening. It’s better if we leave it by the door, knock and then hide and wait to make sure Ms. Brown sees it.” Ms. Brown was the sweet caretaker and new owner of the bookstore after Sugar’s parents had sold it to her last year. She’d been very kind to them, allowing them continued free rein of her property. She would know what to do.
“We didn’t give this enough thought, did we?”
“We didn’t know about it until mere hours ago. How else were we to prepare?” A light came on inside the bookstore. Panic shot through her system like a rabbit with a bobcat on its heels. Honey swallowed a shriek. Her heart rate went into overdrive. “Oh my goodness. Ms. Brown is coming. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Put it down by the front door, and ring the doorbell. It’s the best place.”
Honey did just that, and then they gripped each other’s hands as they dashed toward the bush by the steps to hide crouched together. They could see a shadow approaching from the inside. Sugar trembled beside her. Honey couldn’t chastise her for it because her own body rattled so much her teeth chattered. They grabbed on to each other.
The porch light came on.
Emitting a moan, Sugar broke free and ran across the sand.
“Wait,” Honey whispered, furious. They were supposed to make sure the box was discovered. She bit her bottom lip, debating what to do. Sugar didn’t look backward. A sharp crack of thunder propelled Honey into action. Squaring her shoulders, she took off after her friend and grabbed her shoulders. “We can’t leave yet. We have to make sure.”
“I don’t want to get caught.” They stopped a few feet away.
“Then go without me.” Honey hunkered down behind the umbrellas and waited for Ms. Brown to discover the package. A few seconds later, Sugar dropped by her side. They gripped hands.
“Anybody there?” Ms. Brown called out. The girls’ bodies shook, but they didn’t dare take a breath. After calling out a few more times, Ms. Brown looked down at the package. “Oh
my! What do we have here?”
Sugar gave Honey a tug. “Let’s go.”
Sugar
The next morning, huddled in the safety of Sugar’s bedroom in their campus apartment at the University of Delaware, both girls had their eyes glued to the morning news. Sugar’s heart pounded, and her eyes burned. She hadn’t slept that night out of fear that the police were going to come knocking on their door. In the two- hour ride back from Eagle Point Beach, she kept glancing through her rearview mirror for those flashing red and blue lights. It had taken some cajoling on her part, but Honey had slept about an hour, her head on Sugar’s lap.
Suddenly, the camera operator zoomed in, and the announcer’s smile transformed into a frown. Sugar leaned forward. “It’s on. It’s on.” Honey’s chest heaved, and her eyes held fear. In her haste, Sugar almost dropped the remote before she turned up the volume.
As soon as the tagline filled the screen, Sugar’s breakfast soured in her gut. “I can’t watch this.” With her hand over her mouth, she raced into the bathroom and upchucked the omelet she’d had delivered. She glanced in the mirror at her matted hair and reddened, sunken eyes and shook her head. She couldn’t go to work today and pretend her world hadn’t been shaken off its axis. After washing her hands, she brushed her teeth, while she considered an appropriate excuse that wouldn’t get her fired. As it was, she had missed work yesterday. And quite a few other days. This wasn’t like before. She needed a job.
A loud screech echoed from the other room.
“What’s going on?” Sugar yelled, her heart rate at a crescendo. “They have a video.”
“No. No. No.” Hands on her tummy, she scurried back and forced herself to look at the twenty- six- inch screen. All she could see were shadows. She squinted. With the outfits they’d worn, it was hard to tell their builds. “It’s murky, grainy. They can’t decipher anything.”
Honey sniffled as the tears poured down her face. “What have we done? Oh Lord, what have we done?”
She shuffled over to her hug her friend, her body tremoring as deep fear spread through her. “W- we just h- have to s- stay calm.”
“Someone will know it was us.” Honey wrestled out of her arms. “Maybe . . . maybe we need to turn ourselves in. They might go easy on us if we act now.”
“W- we can’t. We agreed. We made a pact.”
Honey’s lip trembled. “Yes, but . . .” She touched her abdomen. “I didn’t expect the guilt to tear through my stomach like acid.” Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that innocent face peering back at her.
“I didn’t either.” Sugar cupped Honey’s cheeks with her hands. “It was a cryptic pregnancy. No one could tell. All we have to do is keep quiet.”
Grabbing her hands, Honey repeated, “All we have to do is keep quiet.”
They recited those eight words until they believed them. Their secret bound them tighter as the days flew by, each praying the news would die down. But within hours, it made national news.
Everybody was talking about the Baby Abandoned at the Bookstore on Eagle Point Beach. The phrase danced across the screens, haunting them. Those words became a hollow drum constantly beating in their ears in the days to come.
Yet the friends didn’t break because they had each other. They consoled each other and squeezed their lips shut, their pact a tightly woven cord bringing them closer and closer.
Until eventually, eventually, there was nothing but blessed silence . . .
Jewel
Summer 2024
Sitting up in bed with her laptop on her thighs and her husband asleep next to her, Jewel McRae, known to the world as Jewel Stone, closed out the deleted scene of her debut novel, That Was Then, and leaned back onto the headboard. She’d just received word her book was going to be made into a series on a major network, and they wanted her on set as a consultant when they went into production next summer, which was why she was rereading the book. It was a chore, but fortunately, years had passed since its release, and it was all new to her again.
The network planned to create at least two seasons, so she was reading through her very first draft that even her agent and editor had never seen. It included about 17,000 words that were later cut, including the baby storyline. Her editor had never read that juicy subplot, and if Jewel continued to have her way, nobody ever would.
Honestly, though it was tedious work, the book- to- series was quite an accomplishment and a cause for celebration. Her followers were on social media posting memes and making actor suggestions.
But her celebration was bittersweet. The one person she wanted to share this with, her best friend since childhood, was no longer a friend. And the contents of this book were a part of the reason. Especially the deleted contents. Jewel didn’t have the courage to share her truth with anyone, especially the man asleep next to her.
Releasing a huge sigh, she placed the laptop on her nightstand and massaged the back of her neck. With a yawn, she settled under the covers, and her final thought before fading out was I miss my friend.
C h a p t e r 2
Shelby
June 3, 2025
The moment she’d dreaded had finally come. Only Shelby
Andrews hadn’t envisioned that it would happen in her eight- year- old sedan sitting outside her daughter’s best friend’s condo.
Shelby and Lacey had shared a pleasant two- hour drive from Lacey’s apartment building in Wilmington, Delaware, to Rehoboth Beach where she would spend the rest of the summer. They had eaten ice cream while singing along to Beyoncé’s “Cowboy Carter” at the top of their lungs, celebrating another successful year at the University of Delaware. But right after she kissed her daughter goodbye, Lacey had cracked the door open then broached the subject Shelby feared most.
“Mom, please don’t get mad, but I want to revisit the topic of finding my birth parents,” she said, oblivious to the dry heat slithering into the cab, warring with the cool air. Shelby was glad she’d wrapped her waist- length hair in a bun because the heat was intense.
Terror curdled the dairy in her stomach. She brushed a piece of cone off her teal shirt that served as a nice contrast to her sand- toned skin. “I thought you were done with it after that DNA Ancestry kit only led to some distant cousins. None of them had any viable information that you could use.”
“Yes, but I can’t lose hope that my parents might decide to look for me.”
Shelby squared her shoulders. “And what if your birth parents don’t want to be found?”
Lacey sucked in a breath and slammed the door closed.
Exhaling, Shelby reached over to hold Lacey’s hand. “Honey, I know I sound harsh, but I don’t want you disappointed if things don’t go the way you’d like. I think you should redirect your focus back to your studies. You’re about to start your third year, and you don’t need any distractions.” As soon as she said that, Shelby regretted her choice of words, but in all fairness, Lacey had caught her off guard. Sure enough, Lacey took umbrage. As she should. She pulled her hand out of Shelby’s grasp and tucked it close to her chest.
“Distractions? Really? That’s what you’re calling my need to find out who I am?” She banged the door shut and glared at Shelby. Their close relationship had been forged over their love of the beach and books, but over the past six months Lacey’s desire to search out her bio family had become a serious source of contention between them.
Shelby didn’t fully get it. She gave Lacey her heart and everything she could want. Her daughter had a great home, a great life, great friends. She tried to compensate as best as she could to fill that gap. Why couldn’t Lacey just let this go and be happy?
“I can tell you who you are. You’re my tenacious, driven daughter who is rocking college by being on the dean’s honor list every semester.” Her attempt at humor fell flat. “I’m sorry. Distraction was a poor choice of words. I didn’t mean it that way.” Lacey placed a hand on Shelby’s arm. “Thanks for apologizing. Mom, I get that you’re scared, but it’s not like you’re going to lose me. I love you, so there’s no chance of that happening.”
Oh, there was a 99.9 percent chance that Lacey would turn her back on Shelby if she learned the truth, which was why Shelby had to make sure that never happened.
Shelby gripped the wheel. She had a valid reason, albeit a selfish one, why she didn’t need her daughter digging into her past. Every time Lacey brought it up, Shelby’s heart hammered with fear. That was something she could be honest about. “You’re right. I’m just . . . afraid. You don’t understand. You’re all I’ve got.”
She bit her lower lip, hating her blatant use of emotional blackmail, but since losing her parents and then falling out with her best friend, Lacey was the only person Shelby had opened her heart to. From the moment eight- year- old Lacey had come into Shelby’s bookstore with her foster parents, Shelby had been drawn the child with skin the color of sepia, deep brown thoughtful eyes, thick lustrous curls that fell midback, faint dimples and a smile that brightened her entire face when they talked about books. Their bond had been instant, and that grew into love, and all Shelby wanted to do was to keep Lacey sheltered from the ugly truth surrounding her existence.
“See, that shouldn’t be the case,” Lacey admonished, her tone gentle. “You need to socialize and make friends. I can’t be your whole world, Mom. You have to have your own life. Just as you’ve always encouraged me to have mine. Anything that I’ve wanted to do, you’ve been my biggest supporter, and I love you for that, which is why I’m stumped that you’re so against me finding my family.”
“You aren’t my whole world per se. Just a big chunk of my focus right now.” Shelby waved a hand. “And I do have a life outside of you. I have the bookstore, and I’ve joined the cycling club.”
“You don’t know how relieved I am that you did. How many times I picture you at home all alone like a hermit while I’m up here living it up with Bea and my friends.”
Shelby smiled. She had been the one responsible for introducing a shy Lacey to the gregarious Bea Bennett. From then, the girls had been as close as conjoined twins, attending the same high school and then university together. Their friendship was parallel to Shelby’s own relationship to her former best friend, Jewel Stone. They too had been inseparable— until the day Shelby made a choice Jewel couldn’t live with. She glanced over at Lacey. A choice she would make again with no regrets. Though, she did miss her friend something fierce.
“I’m not a hermit. I’m just picky about my friends.”
“Yeah, as in you don’t have any.” Lacey gave her hand a squeeze. “Close ones, I mean. You talk to a lot of people and you’re friendly, but you don’t let anyone get close.”
Goose bumps spread across her arms at Lacey’s perceptiveness. It reminded her of . . . She shook that memory away. “I’m close to you,” she said instead, booping Lacey on the nose.
Lacey lifted her shoulders. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I can’t bear the brunt of your unhappiness.” Her cell phone buzzed. “Bea’s texting me.” Lacey’s fingers flew across the screen of her phone as she typed her response, giving Shelby a moment to mull on those words.
Whoa. Was that what she was doing to her child? Lacey was such a sensitive soul. She had to be mindful of that during their conversations.
Once Lacey had finished responding to Bea, Shelby used her best Mother tone. “Relax. Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly fine taking care of myself. I was doing that long before you came into my life, and believe me when I say you’re not responsible for my happiness. I’m . . . content.”
“I know. But at least start dating or something.” Lacey chuckled, the relief in her tone evident. “You shouldn’t have any trouble getting hooked up. All you have to do is accentuate those high cheekbones with a little blush and add eyeliner to highlight your light brown eyes.” She narrowed her own.
“Your lips are already pink enough, so just a light gloss would do and voilà! You don’t need much.”
She chuckled at her daughter’s description. Kendrick, one of the men from her cycling group, came to mind. He seemed kinda cute, and he was super friendly. He had even asked her out, or she thought he had, inviting her to try out a new cycling route with him and then maybe grab coffee after. That sounded datey, right? “I’ll think about it.”
“Which means no.” Her daughter sighed and opened the door again. “I’ve got to go, but I do want to continue talking about looking for my bio fam. It’s really important to me.”
Folding her lips into her mouth, Shelby reached over to give Lacey a hug. “We’ll have a long talk about it soon.”
After a reluctant nod, Lacey exited the vehicle. Shelby pulled off the curb, calling herself all kinds of horrid for trying to hinder her daughter from pursuing something that was her natural right as an adult. As a human. But she had to. To fail would implode the life she had built for them both, and the repercussions would be unimaginable.
ADRENALINE AND MOTIVATION KEPT SHELBY’S FEET ON the pedals as she pushed toward the finish line where she would clock in at thirty miles. Sweat poured from her face and back, her legs and thighs throbbed, but she gripped the handlebars of her bicycle and propelled herself to move even faster. After her encounter with Lacey earlier that day, riding with her cycling club was the perfect outlet for her pent- up frustration. She had sent her daughter a text to reach out when she was ready to talk, but Shelby had no idea what she could say to bring peace between them. Because there was no way she could give Lacey her blessing to find her birth family.
To do that would put every thing she held dear in jeopardy.
A quick backward glance showed she still maintained a
significant lead on the rest of the team. Not bad, considering it had been less than a year since she had taken up this hobby. The only sound was the whizz of her bike as she sped past a deer poking its head out from the bushes.
Whew: 28.3 miles. Almost there.
She hunched her shoulders, the sun beating on her back. All she had to do was get around the curve. From ahead came the hum and throttle of a motorbike moving significantly under the speed limit. She put her head down and swerved into the other lane. Just as she did, her chain clunked.
Shelby looked down to see the metal trailing on the ground, her helmet shifting on her head with the movement. Just as she climbed off her bike to shimmy off the road, she heard a loud honk. She jerked her head up and gasped. A truck was heading toward her at full speed. She lifted her bike and rushed to the curb. A gush of wind rocked her body as the truck whooshed by, sliding into another lane.
“That was a close one,” Deena said, pulling up beside her, along with the rest of the crew. Shelby looked into the kind blue eyes of the woman before her and fought back frightened tears. When she’d first joined the club, Deena had tried to befriend her, inviting her to house parties. But Shelby always found a reason to refuse. Her daughter was right about her reticence: she was friendly, but she kept her distance. She had lost too much and wasn’t about to risk that happening again.
She didn’t do friends. She didn’t do anyone. Not anymore.
What she did do was books.
Books were the perfect companion. Reliable. Her romances always had a happy ending, and her thrillers always ended with the bad guy dead or in handcuffs.
Shelby sank onto the grass, her fingers digging into the earth. One of the men picked up her road bike and took out a quick repair kit to fix her chain. Tears leaked from her eyes.
“You’ll be okay,” Deena encouraged.
She nodded and whispered, “Thank you.” Her voice was croaky.
Drawing deep breaths, she attempted to slow her racing heart. Before they’d left, the team had performed safety checks on their bikes, but there was no foreseeing the chain malfunctioning.
“Hey, you all right?” a deep male voice asked. One belonging to a man who gave her the shivers and who’d had her checking her hair, her breath and how her butt looked in her shorts before she left for a ride.
Her eyes popped open, and she peered into warm gold ones set against a rugged face. He had a five- o’clock shadow. Besides her, he was the only other Black person in her group. “Y- yes.” She straightened, almost bumping heads with his and dusted off her hair.
“Your bike’s ready if you’re good cycling back,” he said, holding out a hand. “The chain should hold.”
She ignored his hand and got to her feet. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You could call an Uber.” He sounded like that’s what he hoped she would do.
By that time, the other cyclists were on their bikes, waiting for her to make a decision. Shelby hated being an inconvenience. Of course, that was the moment they heard a crack of thunder, so she flailed her hands. “I’ll catch a ride back. Why don’t you all head off? Beat the rain.”
With a nod, the others took off except for her unwanted sidekick. Well, at least she told herself he was unwanted. Taking out her phone, she tapped on the rideshare app and chose the deluxe option.
“You don’t have to stay.” She looked down at the app tracker. “My ride will be here in less than five minutes.”
He gave her a wide smile. “I’d feel better if I waited. If something happened . . .” He shrugged, then chuckled. “Chivalry isn’t dead.”
A plop of rain hit her nose, and she tried again to get him to leave. “Thank you, but for real, though, I’ll feel bad if you get caught in a downpour because of me.”
Kendrick splayed his hands and showed her those straight, pearly whites. The man had a drop- your- drawers smile on him. And his chocolate skin was smooth and unmarred. “After a career in the military, this is nothing.”
She gave him the once- over, taking in those powerful legs, well- fitted shorts and the shirt clinging to that broad chest before she remembered she wasn’t interested in meeting anyone. Her vehicle approached so she gestured for him to get on his bike. The stubborn man waited and helped her load the bike in the trunk. Once she was seated, he left.
When she passed him on the way, Shelby kept her eyes on her phone, planting a fascinated look on her face. She did the same with the other cyclists, hunkering down in her seat.
It was pouring by the time she arrived back at the parking lot. She grabbed her bike out of the trunk and propped it against her sedan, hanging her helmet on the handle. Then she opened the trunk. But all she could think about was the 1.7 miles she had failed to finish. That equated to a couple minutes. Three, max.
She looked at her watch and debated. What she needed to do was get home, get showered and prep the bookstore for her Baby Boomers Book Club. Those ten women were her best customers, guaranteed weekly sales, and since her business wasn’t exactly thriving, Shelby didn’t mind staying open later for them. Which also reminded her, she needed to stop and pick up the pastries and juice.
She eyed her bike and threw up her hands. She had to get to thirty miles. Ugh. Why was she like this? The rain impeded her visibility, but she didn’t have to go far. Just to the stop sign she knew was down yonder, and she would be done.
Snatching the helmet, she strapped the buckle under her chin and got back on her bike. Then she pedaled as fast as she could, her eyes on the stop sign. Right as she approached the intersection, she pressed the brakes and gasped. Her brakes were out. She dropped her legs to the ground, her feet sliding on the slippery road. Reaching over, she grabbed on to the metal pole of the stop sign and tilted her body. She came to a rough halt and hit her knee. But she was good.
Releasing a breath, she looked at her tracker and pumped her fists. She had done it. She did a jig before she heard the sound of screeching. Shelby’s mouth dropped open. A vehicle was skidding toward her at rapid speed. She shook her head. No. No. This couldn’t be happening. Shelby tried to jump off the bike, but she knew it was already too late even as she raised her hands to use as shields, bracing for impact.
C h a p t e r 3
Lacey
June 6, 2025
Lacey Andrews had lied to her mom. What shocked her was how good she was at it, considering she had never been dishonest with her mother before. Well, she had told a fib or two— she forgot she had homework or a paper due— small- scale stuff like that. But never ever about the big things.
And telling your mother that you were just hanging at the beach with your bestie when you intended to play amateur sleuth was most definitely a big thing. Epic. Just thinking about it made her toes curl into the sand. She adjusted her straw hat lower on her head and crouched under the beach umbrella. The guilt had been messing with her equilibrium and her appetite over the past seventy- two hours.
She hadn’t posted on her YouTube channel in days. As a wannabe mukbanger, eating in abundance was a must. But though she was a foodie, Lacey didn’t have the stomach to back up her intentions. Try as she might, she had ended up dumping huge quantities of her meals into the trash. Still, she had about ten thousand people interested in watching her fail at mukbanging.
Her bestie, Bea, hobbled over to grab a towel from the chair beside her. “You really aren’t going into the water?”
“Eh.” Lacey shrugged, tapping her fingers on the handles of her beach chair. “I will.”
“Lacey, you are nineteen years old. Grown grown. Choosing not to divulge your activities to your parent is your prerogative. News flash. It’s called adulting.” This from the girl who called her own mother three times a day for every thing. If she stubbed her toe, Bea was calling her mother. Bea and Mrs. Bennett often spoke until her phone ran out of juice. Lacey hadn’t minded because she was close to her mother too. They were the best of friends. Up until a few months ago, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t confide to her mom.
She rolled her eyes at Bea. “What it is, is irresponsible. Childish, even.”
“But what other choice did you have? Your mom won’t help you find your birth parents, so you have to take matters into your own hands,” Bea said, rigorously drying her long blond tresses. She had the height and build of Bella Hadid, but Bea didn’t like being compared to the supermodel because she was her own woman.
“I know, but I don’t like lying to her that we’re having an easy- breezie summer when I’m not.”
“That was a necessary excursion away from the truth so we can search for your family without interference or hurting your mother’s feelings.”
Lacey winced. “No matter how you sugarcoat it, it doesn’t make it right.”
“It’s not exactly wrong either. Not every thing is black- and- white. We’re simply swerving into the gray.” She swayed back and forth, mimicking a skier.
“Really? Skiing in the summertime?”
She shrugged. “It’s snowing somewhere.” Then she ran her fingers through her strands. “Ugh, I am going to have to wash my hair at least three times to get all this gunk out of it.” She picked up her phone to call her mom and ask her opinion on what shampoo to get.
Lacey scooted off the chair while Bea yakked with her mother, partly because she had to use the restroom and partly because she was jealous. Bea gave a nod and a little wave, occupied with her convo. Lacey missed her mother, and no matter how Bea tried to justify her actions, her guilt grew by the minute. Maybe she should call to check on her mom.
Since it was late afternoon, her mom was probably out bike riding with her new cycling team or hosting the Baby Boomers Book Club at her store. So she would call her later.
When she returned, Bea was ready and waiting.
“How about we go see the concert on the beach tonight?” Bea asked, her green eyes earnest. There would be local bands playing and quite a spread from the nearby restaurants.
Lacey lifted her shoulders. “I kind of wanted to stay in and chill.”
“And we can do that. After.”
“All right . . .” She dragged the last syllable out, while Bea did a happy dance.
“Great. Let’s go home and get dressed. We won’t stay long. An hour or two tops,” Bea said. “The music will be the perfect distraction, you’ll see.”
The air had cooled, and the sounds of the band and ocean made for a pleasant summer night by the time they arrived at the makeshift party on the beach. Crowds of families and vacationers milled about, and though no one was allowed in the water due to currents, the lifeguards were out. As the evening yawned, she sipped on a virgin daiquiri, observing as Bea danced with two guys near the band, her little yellow dress bright and fun.
Lacey sat dressed in black under one of the umbrellas by the tiki lights, her eyes fixed on her phone. She had avoided eye contact with anyone who dared to talk to her and had eaten some Jamaican jerk chicken but would be hard- pressed to tell if it was good or not.
Glancing over at Bea who was looking her way, Lacey held up her hand and tapped her wrist, mouthing Thirty minutes. Bea gave a nod before gyrating her hips at one of the dudes. She was leaving right at the two- hour mark, with or without Bea.
A shadow loomed next to her. “Anyone sitting here?” She shook her head, willing him to go away. But no, he dropped into the seat on her right.
Ugh, the last thing she wanted was conversation. She curved her body to the left, making a point to bring up a YouTube channel. Maybe he would get the hint and leave. But dude didn’t know how to read body language or he was purposely being obtuse. Either of those reasons annoyed her. He tapped his fingers on the glass table and said, “The band is killing it.”
“Uh- huh.”
“That guy is playing that guitar like I’ve never seen it played before.”
“Hmm.” Closing her eyes, she prayed for patience.
“Um, I can see that I’m bothering you,” he said.
“Good observation.” The minute she uttered those words, she hated how rude she sounded, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giving an apology.
“Never mind. Forget it.” The chair scraped as he stood. “I’ll catch up with you.”
It was the hurt in his voice that made Lacey lift her gaze and meet his eyes. She gasped, feeling sucker- punched. The guy before her was delicious. There wasn’t a better word to describe that bronzed smooth skin, the firm jaw and those large hazel eyes. Plus, judging by the red cross on his shorts and shirt, she would say he was a lifeguard. She scrambled to her feet and raked a hand through her curls. “Uh, I’m sorry, I . . .” She exhaled. “I have a lot on my mind, but that’s no excuse for my rudeness.” She held out her hand. “I’m Lacey.”
He studied her outstretched palm before placing his hand in hers. “I’m Mekhi James.” He smiled, revealing a deep dimple and beautiful set of straightened teeth. A faint electric shock buzzed where their palms met, and she smiled back. Her first smile in hours. Her mood lifted a bit.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She wasn’t about to unburden to a stranger about her desire to find her parents. Instead, she tossed her hair and gave a slight nod. Hang on. Was she low- key flirting right now? She had better not be. Lacey hadn’t come to Rehoboth Beach to find a hookup. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, so she needed to stop making goo- goo eyes at this stranger when she had her lies to her mother and her search to think about.
Still, as they held eye contact, something shifted between them. Something propulsive. The beating drums around them only added to the tension forming. What in the world was happening to her right now? This wasn’t the first cute guy to approach her, but it was the first time she had felt an instant attraction. A connection.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked.
She took a step toward him then froze. With a smile, he drew her into his arms. Their bodies aligned perfectly. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his shoulder. His arms circled her back. They swayed to the music. He rocked his hips, and she moved in rhythm with him.
“Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?” he asked, his voice deepening. He twisted one of her curls around his finger.
Her heart raced, her chest heaved and her mouth went dry. All the warnings her mother had given her when she had begun dating came back to her, but it didn’t feel like he was a stranger. Which was folly since she didn’t know anything about him other than his name and that he was fine as all get- out.
But her body was firing off some signals she wasn’t about to follow up on. She had had two bed partners, but those had been long- term boyfriends, and she was seriously tempted to make this guy her third. That knowledge jarred her.
It was off the charts scary.
Lacey pulled her hand out of his and wiped it on her shorts. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” This could be her fears transposing into lust and jumping into bed with this man would be an unwise choice.
He held up his hands. “I meant just to talk.”
If he thought that was all that would happen if they went off somewhere on their own, then he was deluded. She wasn’t.
“See you around.”
“Wait!” he called out, but she took off.
Lacey dashed across the sand and headed for the boardwalk, regret enunciating each step. Don’t turn back. Don’t look around. Just before she turned the corner, she did just that, surprised at the keen disappointment piercing her gut when she saw he was gone. She might never see him again. With a sigh, she began her short trek to the condo.
Meandering onto the end of the mile- long boardwalk with its eclectic shops, restaurants and family amusements, Lacey waved at Ms. Carlotta, the ice cream shop owner, before walking a block over to the row of condos behind the boardwalk. Prime real estate. Especially since the boardwalk hosted festivals and concerts and all sorts of activities year- round. There was never a bad time to come to the beach.
She made her way up the stairs and unlocked the door to the condo then went to use the restroom. After she had refreshed herself with a cool shower, Lacey stretched out on top of the bed under the ceiling fan. A blend of modern and antique, the condo had been designed to meet the needs of even the most demanding occupants.
According to Bea, her family had owned this place for decades. Kind of like Lacey’s mother and the bookstore at Eagle Point Beach. Her mom’s parents had acquired it years ago, but they’d had to sell it because of mismanagement of finances. As soon as she could, Shelby had purchased the bookstore back. Because of its location, it was probably worth a fortune. But her mother had no intentions of selling. In fact, she had put it in a trust for Lacey. Her only request was that Lacey never take a lien out on the store. Lacey had been touched by the gesture, especially since it was the bookstore that had brought them together.
She had been adopted as a baby, but the Brooks got in some trouble— Lacey wasn’t sure what exactly happened— and she had been taken from their home. She then entered the foster care system in Rehoboth Beach at age seven. The Smiths had been her third home, as she hadn’t thrived in the first two. Her social worker told her they would take care of her and they had, including introducing her to books.
And books had led her to Shelby.
The Smiths had fostered Lacey for two and a half years, and Miss Edna had taken her to the bookstore for many trips, which was where she met Shelby. Their love of books united them, and when her foster parents had to go out of town or needed a sitter, Shelby would volunteer to watch her. She was now the only family Lacey had.
Was she being ungrateful seeking out her blood relatives? Her mom didn’t understand what it was like to question your origins the way Lacey had been for the past year.
So it was either live in a constant state of uncertainty or dig for the truth herself— with Bea’s help, of course.
Once she was back inside and under her covers, she texted Bea.
I’m back at the condo. No need to rush. Have a good time for the two of us.
Ciao. Don’t wait up.
Ok. Stay safe.
Always.
Resting her head against the headboard, Lacey closed her eyes and saw Mekhi’s face. Her body lamented her running off. Her eyes popped open. Gosh, why hadn’t she gotten his number at least? And why, oh why, was she thinking of some random meet- cute when she had bigger things to focus on?
Lacey scooted off her bed and decided to help herself to the Rita’s Island Fusion ice that they had purchased the night before. She had just finished the treat when the lock jangled and Bea walked in, leaving the door wide open.
“What are you still doing up?” Bea asked.
“I had a lot on my mind . . .”
Lacey clamped her jaw to keep from yelling at Bea for letting in the flies. She had already cautioned her friend a couple of times about it and didn’t want to nag. Or sound like her mother.
Bea tossed her straw hat on the table and wiped her face. “It’s hotter than a love scene in Bridgerton out there,” she declared, grabbing a spoon and reaching over to get a scoop of ice from out of the carton. “You just don’t know how much until you’re back under the cool air.”
Lacey smirked. “Then close that door before you let all the cool air out.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Bea shut the door. “I forgot to get a flyswatter.”
“I ordered a couple from online already this morning. They should get here tomorrow before eleven.”
“Cool beans.” Bea picked up the remote and turned on the television. Lacey knew from experience that Bea hated silence. She needed white noise, as she called it. It reminded Lacey of the beauty salons or sports bars that had the televisions on at low volume with music blasting in the background. That’s why Lacey was so grateful this condo had more than one bedroom: she needed it dark and quiet to fall asleep.
What was funny was Bea would be on her cell phone the entire time the TV was on. Half the time she didn’t care for anything happening on the screen. There was no way Lacey’s mom would go for that. She’d would be squawking about the energy bill. But that was Bea.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Bea declared, wandering off to her room.
Lacey walked over to the couch and settled in, phone in hand, knowing regardless of what Bea said, it would be a while before Bea returned. She took ridiculously long showers, completely unconcerned about water shortages. Something Lacey’s mom had drilled into her to consider.
Her mother hated waste of any kind.
And Lacey had to agree on this one. It was a pet peeve but, again, this was Bea, which was why Lacey found it best to tune out the things she didn’t like and focus on the things she loved. Like Bea’s generosity and loyalty.
When Lacey told Bea about her quest to find her bio parents, Bea had been all- in. And Lacey was grateful because she couldn’t do this by herself. She only wished her mother was on board.
Lacey picked up her phone and scrolled to her last text message from her mom three days prior. I love you honey. Reach out when you’re ready to talk. Mom was waiting on her to respond. Waiting and hoping that Lacey had moved on from this distraction. Lacey raked a hand through her curls and groaned. A distraction. She wished she wasn’t so bothered by that word when her mother had apologized.
And what if your birth parents don’t want to be found?
The question was like a bear’s claw gnawing at her confidence. Flipping onto her back, she fisted her palms and stared at the ceiling. This quest was something Lacey felt compelled to do. She had to try. If she didn’t, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
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