Page 10

Colton

I wake up at six in the morning, which is unusual for me. Normally, I sleep until my alarm clock wakes me up and even then I always push snooze too many times.

Today is different. I stayed up late talking with Elle after she tumbled into my bedroom. It took everything I had not to laugh at her entrance. It was the most honest and adorable thing I’d ever witnessed. I mean, who does that kind of thing? The women I usually hang out with would be mortified to be caught in a situation like that, but she held her head up high.

By the time I went to bed yesterday, I felt… good. At ease. As if Elle’s presence somehow brightened my whole week. And now I’m up at the crack of dawn because she kept popping up in my dreams. Why? Who knows. It’s hard to put my finger on the magic Elle carries with her.

As I still have a few hours before I have to leave for work, I decide to go for a morning run on the beach and stop at the local beach café to pick up coffee and treats for the girls.

Outside, the air is fresh and salty. There are only a few things in life that can compete with the absolute perfection of Summerville Creek’s mornings. Then again, how would I know? I haven’t seen much of the world, but I like to think this place is one of the best on the planet. Sometimes it makes me doubt my moving plans. After our father left Maggie and me hanging, it was all I could think about. Ten years later, I’m not sure about my motives anymore. Still, it’s something I feel I need to do in order to grow and hopefully find some much-needed peace. Everything in Summerville Creek, and especially the house, reminds me of that jerk. I don’t call him that in front of Maggie, because I know it upsets her, but it’s the truth. Why pretend things are different from what they really are?

I run past other early birds on their morning run and spot a small group of people doing yoga on the beach. In the distance, I can see a handful of fishermen arriving at the pier. The town is slowly waking up and I’m glad I’m out and about already. There’s something calming about getting up at the crack of dawn and every time I do, I promise myself I’m going to do it more often.

After twenty minutes, I arrive at Sweets of Paradise. Their wooden deck stretches out over the sand, making for a fantastic view. Paige, the owner, opens her café at five thirty every morning. It’s another great reason to force myself to get out of bed early. The sun rising over her deck is gorgeous.

I push the door open. The sound of wind chimes welcomes me, and the heavenly smell of fresh-baked bread and ground coffee beans wafts toward me.

I give Paige a small wave of the hand. She’s in her mid-forties and charms every patron with her infectious smile.

“Good morning, Colton,” she says as I approach the counter. “What can I get you today?”

I scan the contents of the glass display. “Three chocolate muffins and three pieces of your homemade red velvet cake, please. Oh, and could you add three coffees?”

“Of course. Hungry?” Her smile is uncertain and inquiring, as if she’s wondering what I’m going to do with all this food.

“Maggie’s got a visitor at the house. What better way to start her morning by treating her to your amazing baking skills, right?”

“Oh, a girl,” she says while sliding the muffins into a paper bag. “Anyone… interesting?”

I run a hand through my hair and laugh. Paige is the best, and not only at baking. Somehow, she always manages to pry information from people five seconds after entering her café.

“Elle, my sister’s best friend. She used to live here.”

Paige sucks in her breath. “Wow, Elle’s back?”

“Yeah, she’s going to be living at Maggie’s place.”

“Really? Like, permanently? I thought she whizzed off to Paris with some French guy. Didn’t she claim she was going to make it big out there before she left?”

“Could be. That was before I moved back here from college.”

Paige nods. “Paul. That was the guy’s name. Apparently, he had an apartment with a view of the Eiffel Tower. Elle said he worked as a director and would help her land a big acting job.”

Really? Elle had been in a relationship with some fancy French dude called Paul and she was an actress? I knew she’d been staying in Paris and, according to Maggie, she had her heart broken over there, but she never shared the specifics with me.

“Say hi to her from me, will you?” Paige asks as she hands me the food and three steaming hot coffees. “I do hope she’s okay.”

“Thanks, Paige.”

Once outside, I pop the lid of one of the coffees, and the addictive fragrance of a fresh brew hits my nose. I sip, realizing too late that I should’ve waited at least a few more minutes to let the coffee cool off a bit.

“Mother of macarons,” I shout, moving my tongue around in an unsuccessful attempt to cool it.

“Mommy, that man said a bad word,” I hear someone say.

I pop the lid back on the coffee. A woman and her three kids are looking at me from their spot on the beach.

“Sorry,” I say. “Didn’t realize this coffee would be burning hot.”