Page 32 of Distant Shores (Stapled Magnolias #2)

IRELAND

R ain pelted my window early Saturday morning as I wallowed in bed, moving my bare legs under the covers this way and that, always in search of a cooler patch.

Once I warmed one, I repeated the process, and that was the extent of which I was being a human right now. The only form of existing I was interested in.

The rain picked up, hammering the window even harder, and I was… calm.

That’s what this was.

Several nights of sleeping in a real bed, and I hadn’t even woken up in a blind panic once last night. The extra grief and guilt I’d been shouldering alongside my baseline of the latter had eased after talking with Ari, which probably helped.

I flipped onto my back and then onto my other side, my knee pillow screwing up the covers. I tugged them loose, then reveled in the new cool spots and the relieved pressure in my spine, my thoughts turning to my first meeting with Ari later today .

I hadn’t looked forward to something in a long time.

Today was also the start of Saturday morning ballroom classes at the Locc.

A soft snick of a door closing followed by a creak sounded from somewhere in the house, and curiosity got the better of me.

Peeling back the covers, I eased out of bed and toward the bathroom door, freezing when my bare foot met something that was not vinyl flooring.

The room was too dark for me to see what it was, so I shook my foot, and whatever it was dislodged.

I took a step back and stepped right back on it, but this time it stuck to my foot when I lifted it in the air.

Reaching down, I yanked it off and tiptoed back to my bed. Using the light from my phone’s screen, I realized it was a sticky note.

Adair must’ve slipped it under my bathroom door.

I know some jokes about retirees, but they don’t work anymore

Below it, Adair’s chicken scratch was instantly recognizable, reading:

Waffles or Pancakes?

He’d even doodled a waffle and a pancake beneath the words. Something about such an innocent note squeezed my heart just as it also tried to race away. Like holding tightly to one of those weird squishy jelly things they sell at gift shops for kids.

Just when we’d gotten over the shower incident, the almost-kiss incident took its place.

It’d been a tumultuous start to our roommate situation.

I didn’t have a pen in here to write my reply. One of the Jacks siblings had put the gifted ones from the welcome baskets in a Live Oak plastic cup and left it on the middle of the kitchen table.

I was pretty sure there was a pencil in Gil’s tool belt.

In fact, I was sure of it.

Turning on my phone’s flashlight, I opened the bottom drawer of the bedside table and fished around inside until I found the carpenter’s pencil. It was neon orange and used down to about halfway.

Pushing away any feeling about that, I wrote my answer.

After listening intently at the door to the Jack and Jill bathroom for several seconds and then knocking lightly for good measure, I opened the door and padded to Adair’s bathroom door on the opposite side.

A small thrill raced down my spine as I slipped the note under the door and into his room.

Sunrise was still a ways off, but I went ahead and got ready for the day, washing my face over the sink, brushing my teeth, and battling the snarls out of my hair.

Ballroom dance had a whole different vibe from tap or ballet, so I opted for a breezy high-waisted skirt and a crop top. There was only a sliver of my stomach on display, but it would still get comments and side-eye from select students.

I did not care.

After grabbing a notebook and my phone, I hovered with my hand over the silver knob of my bedroom door.

I lived here. This was my home for now.

You didn’t hesitate to exist in your own home.

So, I turned the knob, and nothing happened.

Because it was still locked.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I turned the lock on the knob and tried again .

Light clatters registered from the kitchen, and in an effort to be social with my new roommates, I headed toward the noise instead of planting myself on the vacant living room couch.

Adair was standing by the sink, a stainless-steel bowl cradled in his arm as he whisked something into submission. He was in a loose heather grey T-shirt with a fire station’s faded logo on the front and black sweatpants, his forearm muscles tight as he worked whatever was in that bowl.

“Good morning,” I said once there was a break from the noise of his food prep.

His head whipped toward me, his lips parting in surprise.

He was looking at me over the top of his glasses, which had slid down his nose.

We looked at each other for a long moment before he seemed to snap back into himself, craning his face toward his shoulder and shrugging to push them back up his face.

It was horribly adorable.

“Good morning,” he said, a shy smile on his face as he moved his gaze between the bowl and me. “Doin’ good today?”

“I am,” I said as I sat at the table and opened my notebook. “And you?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Good.” His eyes traced down me briefly, but he seemed to catch himself and looked back at the bowl as he started whisking again, a little more aggressively this time.

I pulled up a few pages on ballroom dance on my phone to refresh myself and write out an actual lesson plan, more than fine with the silence between us. Adair’s movements and sounds in the kitchen were actually soothing, a kind of company I could deal with easily.

Drawing a line down the middle of the page with the pen I’d snagged from the cup on the table, I got to work on making two separate schedules for today. One for a class with Miss Trish, and one without.

Seemed safest.

Glancing up from my notebook a few minutes later, I found Adair’s hazel eyes pinned on me, a small smile on his face. “You’re up working early,” he said, his shyness seeming to have eased.

I pointed at the pans and bowls laid out on the counter with my pen. “Same goes for you.”

He placed a couple of pans on the stovetop before turning his attention back to me. “I’m used to early mornings at the station. A few night shifts here didn’t seem to change that habit, unfortunately.”

“The station?”

His smile remained as he talked, almost as if it was just part of him. Whatever the opposite of resting bitch face was, that’s what Adair Jacks had.

Which was why he’d been the talk of Zinnia House all week. He and Adeline both. Nurses, doctors, admin, and residents alike had taken notice of him. Adeline for her sunny attitude and Adair for the same, plus the way he made residents laugh by rolling around everywhere on his stool.

I bet he had no idea he’d made such an impression.

“Yeah, back in Georgia,” he explained, bracing his hands on the counter, arms flexing, “I worked out of two fire stations. Or I did, at least, before the, umm….” He frowned down at his foot, then pushed off the counter and started opening drawers at random.

It was suspicious.

I twirled my pen in my hand. “Two stations? Is that common? ”

He picked the bowl back up and started ladling pancake batter onto the sizzling pans.

“Yeah, it is. Not the safest practice, but it’s a loophole so you can get more hours.”

The smell of vanilla and hot griddle hit me, and I realized… he saw my note. Unless he’d just taken a lucky guess, he’d gone back to his room to check if I would write back.

For God knew what reason, my face heated.

About pancakes.

I flipped the page of my notebook and started doodling. Must get these demons out.

A steaming plate appeared in front of me just a few minutes later, and I closed my notebook and shucked it aside.

Craning my neck, I looked up at him, and the same resting smile was there.

God . Was this guy for real?

“I’m going to go get Delly up,” he said. “No one likes cold pancakes.”

I watched him go, my gaze definitely not fixed on his uneven gait, but… elsewhere.

Less than a minute later, Adair herded a sleep-rumpled Adeline into the room. She yawned widely as she took the seat beside me, a scowl settling into place instead of her usual smile.

“Mornin’,” she grumbled.

That was exactly how I used to wake up naturally each day—as if it were the least natural thing in the world. The cruelest fate.

I still did, really. I just tried not to show it.

I felt Adair hovering behind me, something in my body alerting me to his presence.

Looking over my shoulder, I tracked him as he limped back into the kitchen and grabbed two more plates of food.

He set one in front of his sister and one in the empty spot beside her, then his hazel eyes snapped up to meet mine, his expression warm.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “This looks great.”

“You’re welcome.” He cocked his head at me, a teasing ghost of a smile that brought my attention to the little divot in his chin. “Honey or syrup?”

I sucked in my cheeks, biting back a smile before answering. “Syrup.”

He looked pleased as he grabbed the syrup from the counter and put it on the table. Adeline reached for it immediately, glaring at her pancakes as she drowned them. “I can’t believe it’s raining on my first Saturday living at the beach.”

Oh. Maybe there was more to her attitude than her just not being a morning person.

“I know,” Adair said sympathetically. “But it looks like it might clear up later.”

“Stop looking at the bright side,” Adeline shot back. “Let me wallow.”

Yep. I was seeing more and more of a kindred spirit in Adeline today.

Adair and I shared a look over his sister’s head. The amusement in his gaze didn’t match his serious tone as he replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

I tore my gaze away and poured some syrup over the stack, inhaling deeply when it hit the warm pancakes.

I loved the smell of maple, and Miss Lenny’s crew had provided us with real stuff.

Without second-guessing it, I pulled out my phone and took a quick picture of my plate and then set it back down on the table on top of my notebook.

I glanced up to find Adair watching me with that same amused expression, but then Adeline sighed heavily beside me, drawing our attention as she pushed her pancake pieces around forlornly with her fork.

“Do you want to come to my class this morning?” I asked her.

She sighed again and started stabbing her pancakes aggressively. “I don’t have tap shoes yet.”

“You wouldn’t need them,” I said. “This morning is ballroom.”

She dropped her fork onto the plate with a clatter and gasped so loudly that I actually jumped in my chair, my hand flying to my chest.

“Ballroom dancing?!” she squealed. “ Oh my God, yes.”

“Lord have mercy, Delly,” Adair said, whipping his glasses off and rubbing his eyes before putting his glasses back on. “You trying to give us heart attacks?”

She ignored him, turning in her seat to face me, her eyes suddenly awake and alert. “Should I wear something like that?” she asked, gesturing to my outfit.

“Umm… wear whatever you want. As long as you can move in it.”

She studied me for another second before picking her fork back up and muttering to herself about the outfit options she’d brought.

I turned my attention back to my pancakes, too, taking my time with each delicious bite.

Adeline started peppering me with questions about my classes at the Locc as well as the others offered there, and I answered them all between bites.

The moment I finished my plate, my phone vibrated with my morning check-in alarm. Tapping the screen, I dismissed it and then stood up with my plate to take it to the sink.

I didn’t think I’d ever gone to my morning visit with Dad feeling so… full. In multiple ways.

Adeline stood up and followed me. “I’ll do these, if you need to go.” She took my plate without waiting for my response. “What time is class?” She set the plates in the sink and started cleaning.

Huh. So both Jacks siblings were just that naturally considerate.

“At nine,” I said. “You’ve got plenty of time.”

She smiled broadly at me. “Thanks, Ireland. You’ve saved the day.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “We’ll see if you feel the same after class.”

Adair joined us, setting his plate on the counter beside her and making the small space feel even smaller, but I didn’t move.

“Nope,” Delly said when he tried to take over. “I’ve got it. We’ll switch tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”

I frowned at them, and Adair seemed to catch it, explaining, “I’ll cook Saturday mornings and Delly Sundays. Whoever doesn’t cook, cleans.”

That was very… domestic.

“Which day will be mine?” I asked.

The siblings shared a look, some kind of silent communication passing between them.

I couldn’t make sense of it.

“How about Wednesdays?” Delly asked.

I nodded. “Breakfast or dinner?”

They shared another look.

“Dinner, if you’re up for it,” Adair said. “We can help, of course, since that’s more involved than breakfast.”

“And we can take a few dinner shifts, whenever we don’t eat at Zinnia House or whatever,” Adeline added.

Huh. That was easy.

I left them to it after thanking Adair again and went back to my room to grab my rain jacket and the rest of my stuff. When I came back out of the room, Adair was in the hallway between our doors.

“I was wanting to see Pops this morning,” he said. “So, I thought I could give you a lift?” He phrased it like a question. One that he would only accept one answer to.

I’d been prepared to take the short trek on my board through the rain. It wasn’t quite a downpour anymore, but it still would’ve been uncomfortable.

“Okay,” I agreed. “If you’re going there, anyway.”

He smiled. “I am. Just give me a second to change? I’ll make it quick.”

“Sure.”

He disappeared into his room and, true to his word, met me at the front door not too long later, wearing jeans and a dark rain jacket with that same fire station logo on the breast.

We pulled up our hoods at the same time, our gazes touching, then falling away.

He reached past me and unlocked the knobs, his small smile returning. It never went far.

He pulled the door open, and the sounds of the spring downpour doubled. We were standing shoulder to shoulder, or my shoulder to his ribs, so I felt it when Adair’s chest expanded beneath his rain jacket as he took a big inhale.

I did the same.

Petrichor, the Coast, and faint, sweet blooms.

“Love that smell,” he murmured, mirroring my thoughts. “Ready?”

I looked out into the darkened early morning and tucked my longboard under my arm just in case it cleared up later. “Ready.”

Then we stepped out into the rain together.