Eversea A Love Story

him that looked out the front of the house.
    “I’ll stay in, thanks.”
    He looked down at the plate, finally noticing my attempt at treating him like a toddler and burst out laughing.
     

 
    S I X
    The floors in my house looked amazing. It was old pine that was soft and showed its age and character. They would have to be re-sanded and refinished, of course, and looked like they needed to be replaced in a few parts but Jack had been around every edge pulling or hammering down every single nail. I all but moaned in happiness imagining them with a gorgeous walnut stain.
    I had agreed to give Jack a ride home and before we left I ducked into the hall bathroom. It would have been nice to say I was glowing, but anyone could see that was a crock. I smelled of mosquito-repellent, my face was bright red and shiny, and there were humid frizzies sticking up all over my head. That’s what I got for avoiding Jack by staying outside all day. There was not a whole lot to be done. Running upstairs to shower would take too long and felt too vain. I was just going to pretend he was like Jazz or Jasper or Liz or any other of my other friends. I wouldn’t make a special case for them, and Jack was just a friend. A friend who was rich, famous and so attractive he was actually hard to look at, but a friend nonetheless. I splashed cold water on my face and ran my fingers through my unruly hair, scraping it back and off my neck into a knot on my head.
    “Thank you so much for the floors. They look amazing,” I told Jack as we grabbed his groceries out of the fridge. He stopped and looked at me a moment, and taking in my frazzled appearance, grinned.
    “What?” I asked, defensively.
    He shook his head. “No problem. They’re in great shape, just a few places to replace, but they look good.” He mashed his cap on his head again and picked up the bags. “Tomorrow, I’ll tackle wall paper. I’ll go put these in the truck, see you out there.”
    I grabbed my keys and purse and followed him out while he apologized for “smelling rank”. I kept my reaction to myself.
    He glanced furtively around in his cap and dark glasses before sliding into the front seat and hunching down. I rolled my eyes.
    I was hyper aware of him sitting next to me inside the cab as we drove, and pointedly stared ahead not wanting to catch his eye. I could have sworn he was looking at me, but I’d die before looking over. It was almost like any eye contact right now would suddenly make the moment way too intimate. There was just this current and energy around him all the time. It was like swimming endlessly, trying to keep my head above water.
    I saw him swing his face forward again out of the corner of my eye, and he directed me down toward the beach plaza, and then down Magnolia Road.
    I nonchalantly followed directions down the millionaires’ row like I did it every day in my old jalopy. The good thing about being down here was that most of the houses sat empty except for the weekly renters at high season, so there was less chance of being noticed by nosy neighbors.
    There were some stunning homes, all first row ocean. Some had seen better days, the land being worth more than anything that had been built prior to the real estate boom, and some were big, brassy monstrosities. But there were also a few low-key and truly elegant homes that had tried, with some success, to emulate the southern style. We passed a tall hedge and turned into a small driveway that led to a house mostly hidden from the road. It was gorgeous; a simple but contemporary beach cottage raised off the ground, as most were, for flood codes, painted white with periwinkle blue shutters and huge baskets of pink hibiscus under each window. It was a slice of California right here in the Lowcountry.
    “Wow, it’s gorgeous,” I said, hopping out. “So this friend of yours who owns the house is also an actor?”
I went around to open the tailgate for him and spotted a motorcycle, the same motorcycle with California plates from the day before, parked under a palmetto tree to the side of the house. Great, so I had also almost killed him. I paused a moment and looked up into the bright blue sky. If it wasn’t so at odds with the reality of my everyday life, I’d say fate was literally throwing us together. Though I preferred the outcome of me being his grocery shopper to me side swiping him off his motorcycle. Either way, there were definitely some celestial hijinks being