Twice Shy Read online

Page 7


  His mouth felt dry. “I’m not so sure.”

  “Invite him for coffee. Reach out, make a connection. Explore your attraction and think about how it makes you feel. It doesn’t have to go any further than that.”

  “Just a coffee, huh?”

  “Just a coffee.”

  It sounded so simple and yet felt like walking off the edge of a cliff into thin air. And Joel wasn’t certain he dared take that step—not even for the charming Ollie Snow.

  Chapter Nine

  Beach Fun Run, Saturday October 12th

  As a born and bred Coloradan, mountains were more Ollie’s style than the ocean. But in the two years he’d been living on Long Island, he’d gotten accustomed to the beach—at least, in the summer. He was still struggling with the idea of frolicking around on the sand in the middle of October with a brisk onshore wind cutting through his jacket and making his ears sting. Should have worn a hat. But the good people of New Milton—at least, those of them on the PTA—apparently thought it was a great idea to hold their Beach Fun Run on the second weekend of October.

  So there he was, plowing his way with the kids through the soft sand at the top of the beach to where he could see Mr. Morgan and Alyssa holding broom handles and marking out a race track. At least it was a sunny afternoon, the glare on the foreshore blinding as it lanced up off the wet sand. Thankfully, he’d remembered his sunglasses.

  He was holding both boys’ hands, but as soon as Rory saw his friends he squirmed his fingers free. “There’s Mateo!”

  Glancing down the beach, he saw Mateo Flores and his mom. She lifted her hand to wave when she saw Ollie. “Go on then,” he said. “But do not go into the water, okay?”

  “Okay!” Rory called, the word whisked away by the sharp breeze as he raced off. He was getting tall, Ollie thought. Tall like his father. And skinny, too. Much more of a boy than the toddler he’d been about two minutes—and half a lifetime—ago. Parent time moved weirdly, Ollie was discovering. At once eternal and gone in a flash. Rainy afternoons racing toy cars along plastic tracks lasted forever, and yet he knew he’d turn around in five minutes time and find Rory at high school.

  Next to him, Luis made a grunt of displeasure and sat down on the sand. “Sorry buddy,” Ollie said, looking down at him. “You need longer legs before you can keep up with Rory. You’re stuck with me again.”

  Hoisting Luis back to his feet before his backside got too damp, Ollie headed down to where Alyssa and Morgan were hard at work. He supposed he could have gone to find Jackie instead but, well, here he was.

  “Hey,” he said as he joined them, watching with a hand lifted to cut the glare as Rory and Mateo dashed about further down the beach. “How can I help?”

  Alyssa turned with a smile. “Hey Ollie! Hey Luis, how you doing?”

  She reached down and ruffled his soft hair. It needed a cut, and Ollie should probably take him to a barber this time. His own efforts with the scissors wouldn’t cut it much longer—no pun intended. Like Rory, Luis was transforming into a little boy. “We’re ready to help, aren’t we, buddy?”

  Luis answered with the universal pick me up sign, chubby arms stretched up, so Ollie scooped him onto his hip, doing his best to dust the wet sand from Luis’s boots before it got all over his jeans. He cast a surreptitious glance at Morgan, feeling awkward after the way he’d fled after last week’s meeting. But Morgan’s gaze was directed up the beach.

  “You want to hand out stickers to the runners?” Alyssa suggested. “Everyone who signs up gets a number so we can verify how far they ran for their sponsor forms.”

  “I think we can do that, right, Luis?” He glanced over at Morgan, who still hadn’t spoken, and said, “Hey.”

  Morgan gave a tense nod. “Hey.” Like Ollie, his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. Unlike Ollie, his looked expensive and high-tech while Ollie’s had cost five bucks at the gas station. Still, they did the trick.

  “Hoping we’re not gonna get wet today,” Ollie said, trying for lighthearted.

  Morgan nodded again, and then smiled. It looked reluctant. “Yeah, let’s try to keep everyone out of the water.”

  What Ollie thought of as his kid-radar pinged and he glanced over, tensing for a moment when he couldn’t see Rory, then relaxing when he spotted him and Mateo digging in the dryer sand at the top of the beach. They both looked okay and he could see Mateo’s mom close by. Kids around New Milton were used to the beach and Rory knew never to go into the water without an adult. Still, Ollie wanted to keep an eye on him even while he tried to give him freedom to play and explore. Like everything else about raising kids, it was a difficult line to walk.

  “Are you running today?” Alyssa said, nodding at his battered old running shoes.

  “Sure—with Luis in the pre-school run. Hoping I’m in good enough shape to keep up.”

  Alyssa grinned. “Those preschoolers can move fast, huh?”

  “Right? Especially when you’re not looking. But the kids’ grandparents sponsored them ten bucks each, so there’s money riding on us.”

  “Aww, that’s cute.”

  He gave an equivocal shrug. The Palmers could have easily donated a lot more. But they didn’t approve of Ollie moving to New Milton. They didn’t approve of his decision to send the kids to public school. They didn’t approve of Ollie, period. In fact, they’d fought his right to custody every step of the way, even though he was the nominated guardian in both their son’s and daughter-in-law’s wills. They’d lost and were retaliating by letting Ollie sink or swim on his own, hoping he’d be forced to admit he couldn’t manage without their help. And their money. They’d be waiting a long time. Nevertheless, despite the bad blood, he did his utmost to keep the kids in contact with their grandparents, hence their sponsoring them for today’s fun run. But he couldn’t pretend to be sorry they’d decided to stay home.

  Squinting along the beach to where a couple of flags fluttered further down, he said, “So the deal is we do as many laps as possible?”

  “Adults do as many as they can in an hour, but the kids—”

  “Alyssa!” Jackie’s shrill voice came floating—or, perhaps, dive-bombing like a seagull, along the beach. “Alyssa, do you have the medals?” She was heading their way in bright pink rubber boots and a coat to match, ubiquitous clipboard in hand.

  “Crap,” Alyssa said, and threw Morgan an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sir.” He rolled his eyes, which made Ollie grin despite the weird tension between them this morning. “The damn medals are still in my garage. Here”—she shoved the broom handle at Ollie—“help Mr. Morgan finish the lines? I need to go get the medals before Jackie has an aneurism.”

  Alyssa headed off, hands raised placatingly, to talk to Jackie, leaving Ollie and Morgan together.

  Alone again…

  Ollie gave a nervous laugh. “You keep getting stuck with me. Sorry.”

  “I don’t mind.” Morgan was fiddling with his broom handle, gaze averted even though his eyes were already hidden behind his sunglasses. Ollie couldn’t get a read on him. “I mean— Anyway, we should get this done before people start showing up. Just keep your line about four feet away from mine all the way around. We’re going to do a loop along the foreshore and then up and back.”

  “Okay.” He squinted out over the water. “The tide’s not gonna come in and wash this all away before we’re done is it?”

  “Uh, no.” Morgan smiled, another of those weird reluctant smiles that looked like it was being dragged out against his will. “Tide’s on its way out.”

  “Right, sure. I knew that. You can tell because the waves are going backwards.” Morgan stared and Ollie grinned. “JK.”

  “What?”

  “Joke.”

  “Ah—sorry, I don’t speak internet.”

  “Right,” Ollie said, setting Luis back on his feet. “Because you’re so ancient, right?”

  “Something like that.” But he was smiling again, even as he started dragging his broom handle
through the sand, so Ollie counted it as a win.

  Unfortunately, Luis wasn’t as into walking slowly along a beach dragging a broom handle as Ollie had hoped and kept making a break for the open ocean. Luckily, his little legs couldn’t take him far, but it meant Ollie had to keep stopping and retrieving him. Naturally, Luis thought the game of ‘run toward the sea so Ollie chases me down the beach’ was hilarious and should never stop.

  Ollie was trudging back from the foreshore for the umpteenth time, with a squirming and giggling Luis tucked under his arm, when Morgan came walking down to meet them. “Hey,” he said, and pushed his sunglasses up so Ollie could see his eyes. Not that Morgan was looking at Ollie. He held out a sturdy-looking piece of driftwood to Luis. “This is for you,” he said seriously. Ollie set Luis back on his feet so he could take the stick. Morgan glanced at him, a question in his eyes—Can I?—and Ollie nodded, not sure what he had in mind but grateful for anything that might distract Luis from trying to swim to Ireland.

  Morgan held out his hand and Luis took it, leading him back up the beach. The pair of them made quite a sight, Morgan’s tall frame and broad shoulders strolling along next to Luis on his stubby little legs, arm up over his head to reach Morgan’s fingers. Ollie resisted the temptation to press a hand to his heart, not sure whether he was grateful or weirdly envious. And envious of who? Morgan, who was so much better with kids than Ollie, or Luis who got to hold Morgan’s hand?

  With a sigh, he followed them and by the time he got back to his abandoned broom handle, Morgan had Luis drawing on the sand with his own stick while Morgan carried on with their job. Ollie snatched up his own broom handle and caught up, amazed at the way Luis was babbling at Morgan.

  “That’s great,” Morgan was saying. “Great lines, Luis. Looks like an octopus. Or a starfish, maybe? Hey, come over this way, we’re going up here now…”

  Like putty in his hands.

  “I can see I’m gonna have to ask you for tips,” Ollie said, following as Morgan turned the corner and started heading up toward the dunes. It was quieter at this end of the beach, and Ollie and the boys had picnicked here a couple of times when they’d first moved to New Milton.

  “You don’t need tips,” Morgan said. “Just, sometimes a new face is enough to distract them.”

  “Nah, you’re a natural, Mr. Morgan. I can tell. You like kids and they like you.”

  “Yeah, I do like kids.” A pause, “And it’s Joel.”

  The wind whisked away his last words and Ollie wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Excuse me?”

  “My name.” Morgan straightened, pausing and leaning on his broom handle. He still wore his sunglasses on the top of his head and squinted in the sunshine. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Morgan. It’s Joel.”

  “Oh.” Ollie stopped too, smiling. “Okay. I wasn’t sure what the rules were...you know, around the kids. If I had to be formal or whatever. But, uh, sure—I’m Oliver. Ollie. Which you obviously know.”

  “I do.” If Ollie hadn’t known better, he’d have called Morgan’s—Joel’s—expression ‘shy’. “Is Snow an Irish name?”

  “No, why?”

  “Just your…coloring. The hair.” And was that a flush on those handsome cheeks? Was Joel flirting with him? Ollie’s smile broadened into a grin as he touched his overgrown mop, which was blowing about like crazy in the wind. Christ, he needed a haircut. “My grandmother, on my mom’s side, was a Flannigan. Snow’s an English name, I think. Morgan’s Irish, right?”

  “Yeah, but about two thirds of my family is German, so...” He reached down and absently tousled Luis’s hair. “I’m guessing Palmer was your brother-in-law’s name?”

  “Right. Ellis Palmer. Rory looks a lot like him. Luis has my sister’s smile, though.” He hoped it didn’t sound maudlin and smiled at Luis who was currently sitting in the sand at Joel’s feet trying to untie his shoelaces. “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”

  “Boot,” Luis said, looking up with his big brown eyes. “Boot.”

  “Hey, yeah, that’s right. That’s a boot.” Ollie grinned at him, then at Joel. “New word. That’s way over a hundred now.”

  Joel laughed. “You count them?”

  “Yeah! I keep a list—well, I did at first, but I haven’t updated it in a while. I need to do that.”

  “I’m sure you’ve got enough to do. You work, right?”

  “Just in a call center. It’s not great pay but the hours are flexible, which I need right now, so...” He shrugged. “What can you do?”

  “There was no…?” Joel hesitated. “No life insurance?”

  “That’s in trust—it’s the boys’ college fund. I don’t want to live on it, you know? It’s for their future. It’s my job to take care of their now.”

  Joel gave him a considering look. “I admire that.”

  “Yeah, well.” He warmed under that approving look and fiddled with the broom. “Still means I’m broke.”

  “Take it from me,” Joel said, getting back to work, “there’s a lot more to life than money.”

  “In my experience, the only people who say that are people who don’t have to worry about their rent.”

  After a pause, Joel said, “You’re right, I guess, but— Despite the money I earned at the bank, my life still fell apart when my wife left.” They walked on, drawing their lines. Ollie thought Joel had said his piece, but then, in a rougher voice, he added, “I’d have traded every penny I had for what you’ve got—a family.”

  Not my student loans, Ollie thought. Not my incomplete master’s and derailed career, not my fear that I’m missing all my chances while I change diapers and organize play dates. But he couldn’t say any of that, could he? He shouldn’t even be thinking it. “You wanted kids?” he said instead.

  “I did. My wife didn’t.”

  “That’s a problem, I guess.”

  “Yeah, well. Like I said, money isn’t everything. You can’t buy happiness, yada yada.” He smiled that shy smile of his. “But I get it. Things are tough when money’s tight. Of course they are.”

  “The grass is always greener, huh?” Ollie hesitated before he went on, but Joel had confided in him and he wanted to return the gesture. “If it helps, there are times when I—” He glanced down at Luis, and at Rory playing further along the beach. He couldn’t love them more; they pierced his heart. But even so... “There are times when I wish I was just a regular twenty-four-year-old fresh out of grad school and starting my life.”

  Joel’s expression didn’t exactly change, but his eyes softened. Kind eyes, Ollie had noticed right from the start. “You were in grad school?”

  “Don’t look so surprised.”

  “I’m not at all surprised, I’m—” He shook his head. “What were you studying?”

  “Architecture. I even had an internship lined up.” A fantastic one in LA, as it happened. He tried not to think about that missed opportunity, but sometimes at night, or when he was feeling down, the what-ifs haunted him. “But... Well, then the accident happened, and my priorities had to change. So here I am.”

  “Here you are.”

  “Hey, all that studying wasn’t for nothing. I can build a kick-ass sandcastle.”

  Joel smiled, although the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. They remained serious and intent, examining Ollie as if he was a problem to unravel. His pulse spiked because that was not a look you got from a straight guy. No way.

  “Boot,” Luis said at his feet, interrupting whatever the hell was going on in that long, shared look. Frustrated, Ollie glanced down to find that Luis had successfully untied Joel’s bootlace.

  “Luis!”

  Luckily, Joel just laughed. “That’s pretty clever,” he said, and crouched to retie his laces. It brought him eye-to-eye with Luis, who thought it would be a good idea to tug the sunglasses off the top of Joel’s head.

  “Oh no you don’t!” Ollie grabbed them off him quickly, ignoring Luis’ squawk of protest. He did not want to pay to replace
them. “Here,” Ollie said, handing the sunglasses back as Joel got to his feet. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” Joel smiled with real warmth, enough to make Ollie’s lonely heart skip; he’d always been a sucker for gentle guys. “I think somebody’s getting bored.”

  “Yeah, he’s—”

  “Mr. Morgan! Ollie!”

  Joel’s eyes fluttered closed, lips tightening in the closest thing to impatience Ollie had ever seen on the man’s face. But it was gone before he opened them again and turned to squint down the beach to where Jackie was slogging toward them in her pink galoshes. “Hey Jackie, what’s up?”

  “Well!” She stopped about ten feet away to catch her breath. “I expect the ladies to gossip, but we’re starting the first race in twenty minutes and...” She trailed off, flapping a hand towards them as if to say—‘And look!’

  Ollie looked. They were still only half done with marking out the route. “Don’t worry,” Joel said. “We’re on it.”

  “It’s my fault,” Ollie said. “Luis’s been ‘helping’.”

  “Yes, I saw.” Jackie’s smile thinned. “Would you like one of the moms to watch him while you finish?”

  “No.” Ollie didn’t mean to snap, but he couldn’t afford anyone thinking he needed help with the boys. “I’ve got it. I’m fine.”

  Jackie gave him a brittle look, her usual bonhomie decidedly absent. “Alright then, just remember the time. We can’t start late, or we won’t be done before the tide turns.”

  Ollie grimaced as she turned on her heel and trudged back toward the growing crowd at the head of the beach. “Was I rude? I didn’t mean to be.”

  “Jackie can be pretty full-on,” Joel said, which wasn’t a denial. He picked up his broom handle. “She means well but she takes all this to heart...”

  Ollie lifted Luis on to his hip and grabbed his own broom handle. “I know. I know she was trying to be helpful, but people always think I need help. And I don’t!”

  They were almost at the dunes now, turning to walk back along the beach. Luis started squirming and complaining and Ollie had to stop and put him down again, shaking out his aching arm and stretching his back. He missed the days when Luis could fit into a papoose.