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

He sent her a text. I miss you, too. Talked to everyone except Sky. Calling the counselor now. Thanks for finding the books, and sure, please get them. Can’t wait to see you.

Pete patted his thigh, and Joey bounded to his side. Together they walked out to the barn. Pete pulled open the doors, inhaling the pungent smell of old wood, varnish, and paint. The aroma that he’d hoped to associate with his father’s recovery now left him a little empty. He ran his hand along the bottom of the boat, calculating the time his father would be in the rehab center if he agreed to go. The rehab counselor had said to plan on three to five weeks of inpatient care, depending on his father’s progress. His father had been in complete denial when his brothers had staged a full-on intervention, and he could only hope that with enough love—and enough one-on-one pressure—this time would be different. He had to believe that somewhere in his father’s heart he wanted Pete to have a chance at a full life with Jenna, just as he’d had with Pete’s mother.

His cell phone vibrated again, and he withdrew it from his jeans pocket and read another text from Jenna.

I know this is hard. Your mom would be proud of you, and one day your dad will realize all you’ve done and he’ll be proud of you for it, too. Xox.

He had his doubts about his father being proud of this particular effort, but with Jenna’s encouragement, he held on to a shred of hope that one day they’d both look back and the past two years would be history. A glitch in an otherwise warm and loving family history.

Pete took another long look at the boat—I’m not giving up on you, Pop—pulled the barn doors closed, and headed down the sandy path to the rocks overlooking the bay. He and Joey sat side by side on a large rock as he called the emergency number for the counselor and left a message. As the minutes ticked by, Pete’s anxiety mounted. He felt like a traitor, turning to the counselor behind his father’s back. Someplace deep inside, he knew he wasn’t a traitor. He was probably saving his father’s life, and he was definitely saving his own, but that knowledge didn’t quell the tightening in his gut.

Joey laid her chin on Pete’s lap and he stroked her fur. Since day one, Joey had trusted he’d feed her, care for her, and keep her safe from harm. She trusted him like he used to trust his father. Jenna’s words whispered through his mind. I think for some of us—me with my mom, and you with your dad—we have to learn to be just as selfless as our parents were. Maybe now it’s our turn to rescue them.

He turned her words over in his mind, and his perspective began to change. He rose to his feet as he pushed the guilt aside with a sense of finality, and by the time the counselor called back, Pete was bound and determined to get this done, but first he had one more phone call to make. Being worthy of someone’s trust meant more than protecting them from the life’s brutal realities. He dialed Sky’s number.

“Hey, big brother. What’s up?” Sky’s smile came through in her voice.

“Hi, sis. Do you have a sec, or are you busy?”

“You sound so serious. Is everything okay?”

Not even a little. “I always sound serious, don’t I?” He tried to laugh it off, and knew he failed when she remained silent. “Are you someplace you can talk or are you out?”

“Actually, I just pulled up behind Dad’s store. I know I told you that I’d wait to come out, but my hours got canceled at the co-op this weekend, so I figured, why not go see Dad? Besides, it’s Mom’s birthday. I thought he’d be lonely.”

Shoot. How could he have forgotten? So much for Pete’s plan of heading over to the store after talking to Sky and getting this thing over with.

“Really? You’re in town? Great.” Damn. He eyed Joey. “Come to my place. I have a new puppy who’s dying to meet you, and I’d love to catch up.”

“Okay, let me stop in and see Dad. Half an hour sound good? I just want to say hi to him and then I’ll come over.”

“Perfect.” Pete never thought he’d count himself lucky that his father was a functioning alcoholic during the day, but knowing that Sky wouldn’t see anything different from what she’d seen during any other visit drove the thought home.

Sky showed up thirty minutes later and ran across the grass toward Pete and Joey. She was wearing a long patchwork skirt, a tank top, and an enthusiastic smile as wide as Julia Roberts’s. She dropped to her knees and smothered Joey with kisses. Joey pawed at Sky’s hair and licked her cheeks.

“Pete! She’s so cute! I love her.”

Pete crouched beside Sky and hugged her. “Looks like she loves you, too, sis.”

Sky sat cross-legged on the grass as both she and Joey calmed down. Joey nipped at her fingers, and Sky was all too happy to lavish her with more love. Pete’s chest was tight at what he had to tell Sky, and as the day wore on and closing time for his father’s store neared, he knew he had little time before his father would hit the bottle and there would be no reasoning with him.

He noticed new ink on Sky’s shoulder and brushed her hair to the side. “New tat?” She’d begun getting tattoos after their mother died, and though most of them were easily hidden beneath her clothing, Pete wished he could get to the root of what caused her to wear her hurt in colorful, permanent ink, and help her heal.

“Yeah.” She craned her neck and looked over her shoulder.

Upon closer inspection, Pete made out the trunk of a tree, with deep roots that spread along her shoulder blade.

“It represents you and my other dork brothers. Roots? Get it?”

Pete arched a brow. Yeah, he got it, all right, and it was a great metaphor.

“I know it looks funny without the top of the tree, but when I was designing it, I realized that I have no idea what my life will be like, so I left it like a blank canvas. I’ll fill it in some other time.”

“Well, I’m honored.” He couldn’t help but wonder what type of tattoo his father’s alcoholism might incite—and he hoped that was the only thing it incited. He’d kept this from Sky for so long that he’d thought of a million ways she might react, the worst of which was spiraling right back down a dark and lonely tunnel, as she had after their mother died.

“Come on. Let’s go hang out on the deck and talk.” Pete reached for her hand.

Sky jumped to her feet. “Come on, Joey. He sounds serious. I might need reinforcements.” She took Pete’s hand, and they headed down the sandy path toward the house. “Are you going to lecture me about finding my niche?”

“I wasn’t going to. Although, now that you bring it up…”

She bumped him with her shoulder as they stepped onto the deck. He watched her settle into a chair and gather her long hair over one shoulder. She sighed and stretched her arms out on the armrests.

“You are so lucky to live on the water.”

“Yeah. I am pretty lucky, I guess.” Every second that passed made it more difficult for Pete to begin explaining. He leaned forward in his chair and took her hand in his once again, hoping the connection would ease the blow of his words.