Hearts at Seaside (Sweet with Heat: Seaside Summers #3)

She wasn’t about to admit that yes, she and her friends did do that. Things were so different for guys, she assumed. They must not worry about escaping. She thought of all of the dates she’d had in recent years, and the ones that went poorly were easily ended without the emergency call. It was a silly idea, but it had been carried forward from their teenage years, and knowing the girls were at the ready had bolstered her confidence.

He slung his warm arm over her shoulder and pressed his lips to her temple. “I thought our date was anything but bad, and I want more time with you, Jenna. The last thing I wanted to do was escape.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey.” He lifted her chin so they were gazing into each other’s eyes. “Don’t worry about that stuff. You’re not a fling. I told you that. I should have kissed you years ago, picked you up and held you tight and made you realize that you didn’t have to be nervous around me. Heck, Jenna, I should have forced myself to stop questioning if we’d work or not and push away all the outside influences.”

Pete’s eyes grew serious, and worry lines appeared on his forehead. He rubbed his hands on his shorts, then settled his hand over hers.

“But in all honesty, Jenna, there are some things that can’t be pushed aside completely. I think we need to talk about last night.”

Jenna swallowed hard. After everything he just said, she should feel calm and secure, but the tension in his hand indicated how heavy his thoughts were and made her nervous all over again.

He trained his eyes on their hands. “You know my dad.”

“Sure. I mean, I’ve met him a few times at the hardware store. He seems really nice. How’s he doing since your mom passed away?”

Pete turned away and drew in a deep breath. When he turned back, he tightened his grip on her hand.

“This is really hard for me to share, Jenna. He’s not doing very well, and no one knows about this but my family.” He paused, and the muscle in the side of his jaw repeatedly bulged.

“Pete, you don’t have to tell me—”

“I want to tell you, Jenna. I don’t want any secrets between us, and if we keep seeing each other, this will definitely have an impact.”

“If?” The word slipped out like a whisper. She closed her mouth tightly against the insecurity.

He took her cheeks in his hands and searched her eyes. “I want to be with you. Don’t ever think otherwise. I spent years second-guessing, Jenna, and I realize we’ve spent only one night together. I get how crazy that seems. But we’ve known each other for years, and last night felt like we’d somehow put a label on us, and all those previous years, when we liked each other and were too blind to come together, were building a foundation of friendship and trust that we never realized we were building.”

“I thought it was just me. I feel all those things, too. That’s why I came over. I didn’t want to believe that you didn’t feel the same.”

“I definitely feel the same, but you might change your mind when you hear what I have to say.” He let out a loud breath. “After my mom died, Pop’s drinking spiraled out of control. He’s a functioning alcoholic, Jenna, and it’s not an easy situation for any of us.”

“Oh, Pete. I’m sorry.” Here she was worrying about her mother being too clingy and he had real issues he was dealing with. “Have you tried to get him help? What about your brothers and sister? I guess they’re too far away to help?”

Pete nodded. “My brothers staged an unsuccessful intervention a few months after we realized what was going on, but all that did was piss him off. Sky doesn’t know, or at least I’ve tried to protect her from all of this. She and our mom were really close, and Sky had such a hard time when our mom died that I worry what seeing our father like this would do to her. She’s just starting to find herself again.” Pete ran his hand though his hair, and pain flashed in his eyes.

“So she has no idea?”

Pete shook his head.

“Pete, I don’t know what Sky is like, but if I had siblings and they kept something like this from me, I would probably be pissed. I mean, he is her father, too.”

When he spoke again, his voice was deep and serious. “Sky was twenty-two when our mom died and Pop started drinking. She bounced from job to job; she was barely keeping her head above water. We were all very worried about her. I went and stayed with her for a couple weeks, dragged her out of bed each day, made her face her feelings and life without our mom. I tried to get her into therapy. I thought talking would help, but she refused to go. But she opened up to me. She’s still open with me.” He shook his head again. “I did the right thing, Jenna. I did the only reasonable thing. I’ll tell her, eventually.”

“And what about your dad? Does he admit he has a problem?” She had no idea Pete was dealing with such a tremendously difficult family problem, or had been for two years. Now, as she looked back, she wondered if his being quiet or more reserved was driven by his being sidetracked. Who wouldn’t be?

“When Pop’s sober and I try to talk with him about his drinking, he’s adamant that he doesn’t have a problem and that he just misses my mother, which I know he does. Then I feel guilty for trying to push him into AA meetings or rehab. And honestly, I think he’s past the AA stage. He’s worried about people in town finding out and losing business because of it. To be honest, I think he needs real, full-time help to beat this.”

“I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you. What happens when he’s drinking?”

Pete scrubbed his hand down his face. “He’s consumed with my mom. He doesn’t remember that she died, so he asks where she is. It’s pretty heartbreaking.”

“He’s right about people finding out, but the alternative is not good for either of you.” Jenna slid her hand around the back of his neck and kneaded the tension from his muscles. “I’m sorry you’ve been going through this alone.”

Pete pulled back. “I can handle it, but—” He looked away again.

Jenna realized how deeply this was impacting him, and she wasn’t sure how to help, but she desperately wanted to. “Well, the next time that happens when we’re together, please don’t feel pressure to leave me behind. I’ll go with you. Maybe I can help.”

He shook his head. “No. You don’t need to see what he’s like.”

“Is he violent?” She began to imagine all sorts of awful situations.

“No. He’s just the opposite. He’s kind of pathetic.”

Jenna saw sadness in Pete’s eyes, but it was the tension and maybe even embarrassment rolling off him that made her chest constrict. Had his father’s alcoholism even allowed for Pete to grieve for his mother, or had it begun immediately after his mother’s death? Was he embarrassed for his father, or for himself? And his choice of words rubbed her the wrong way. Pathetic? That could only come from years of pain.

“Pete, your parents were married a long time. He probably does feel lost without her, but that doesn’t make him pathetic.”