The Waiting Game Read online

  I’ve known Deacon since high school, when he was dating my best friend, Kari, and we were on the swim team together. He was a year ahead of us and after he went off to college, he and Kari broke up. At the time I was saddened by that prospect and the loss of our trio because I thought someday, they’d get married and start a family like they’d always planned.

  Funny thing about plans, though. They can change at the drop of a hat. Kari ended up going to college in Seattle and over time, we lost touch. Last thing I heard was that she married her yoga instructor and they moved back to his home in India.

  Deacon and I, however, stayed friends throughout college. We’d get together whenever our schedules would allow, both of us attending school in Portland. We also constantly texted each other and hung out when we were home over the holidays or summers.

  The one difference between us was our interest in moving back to Hillside Cliffs after graduation. I’d always planned on living in the big city, whereas Deacon came back to manage his dad’s outdoor recreational store. Powell’s Surf Shop & Sports was the only rental shop in town where tourists could rent boats and kayaks, fishing equipment, camping paraphernalia, etc.

  Deacon is happy living back in our small seaside town. He loves the ocean and the outdoors, and the friendliness you encounter in a town like this. I, on the other hand, hate the slow pace after getting a taste of big city life. All I’ve done is bitch and complain since I’ve been back and scour the boards the last two-weeks.

  “Don’t you have a store to manage or something, instead of bothering me?” He knows I’m kidding, since I stick my tongue out at him like a brat.

  Deacon glances at his sports watch and lifts a broad shoulder with indifference. “Nah. I’ve still got an hour before the store opens. And you know I love bothering you. It’s the highlight of my day. How’s the job hunt going?”

  Without giving me a chance to respond, he reaches for my laptop and swings it around so he can get a look. I shift back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest with a snarl.

  “Feel free to have a look,” I grumble, gesturing toward the screen. “Maybe you’ll have more luck than me. There’s nothing out here, Deac. I’m either overqualified for the entry-level positions or I don’t possess the experience they’re looking for.”

  I wrinkle my nose and grimace, earning the sympathetic puppy dog eyes that only a good friend would give.

  Since I’ve been back, I’ve gotten that look a lot from people around town when they see me. The one that says, “Oh, that poor girl. I hear she lost her job and couldn’t make it on her own in the big city. Bless her heart.”

  Deacon unfolds his legs and leans forward, placing his forearms on the table and reaching for my hand. Clasping them gently in his palms, he runs a thumb over my knuckles. Strange and unwanted tingles skirt up my arm and down my spine.

  “Elle, I’ve already told you, I have a spot at the store for you. It’s yours if you want it. Why are you being so stubborn about this? Why won’t you come work for me?”

  Yanking my hand from his, I shake my head in frustration.

  Taking handouts from your friend is beyond humiliating.

  “Deacon, you don’t understand. I need to do this for myself. I need to prove I can do something on my own and not rely on someone else to get me out of this mess. I feel like a failure.”

  I know Deacon wants to help me and would do anything for me. He’s just that kind of guy and under any other circumstances, I would take anything he has to offer. But a pity job doesn’t sit well with me.

  He scoots in closer and places his palms on my knees, looking into my eyes earnestly.

  Deacon has the most beautiful, soulful brown eyes of anyone I’ve ever known. They express compassion, kindness, friendship and trustworthiness. When the day comes and he meets the girl of his dreams, she’ll be the luckiest woman alive.

  “Ellie, you are not a failure. Look at what you’ve already accomplished. You worked yourself through school. You lived on your own in Portland. You bought yourself a car. You’ve taken care of your parents when they’ve needed your help. And you are a great friend. How in the hell is that being a failure?”

  “You’re just saying all that because you’re my friend and it’s a requirement.”

  He chuckles half-heartedly. “How long have you known me, Elle?”

  I pretend to count off the years on my fingers. “Ten years, give or take.”

  He nods. “Right, and in all that time have I ever lied to you?”

  I spit out a sarcastic laugh. “There was that one time in tenth grade when you told me I didn’t look that bad after I got elbowed in gym class, even though my face was as swollen as a blowfish. That was a total lie.”

  We both laugh at the memory. That’s something Deacon did to spare my feelings and to make sure I didn’t get hurt. He protected me at all costs.

  “Touché. I did say that to make you feel better. But I’m not sugarcoating anything this time. You are amazingly smart, and a hard worker and any employer would be lucky to have you. That’s why I would hire you in a heartbeat. So, what do you say? Come work for me. You know we make a great team.”

  Deacon cocks his head to the side and gives me a cheesy grin. I’m helpless to refuse him.

  I flop my head down against the table and admit defeat. “Fine,” I grit through my teeth before popping back up. “But on one condition. I’m not going to stop looking for a permanent job and if I find it, there’s no hard feelings if I resign. Got it?”

  He shakes his head enthusiastically. “Deal.”

  “Oh, and another thing. You can’t treat me any differently than your other employees.”

  Deacon salutes with a boyish grin, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight.

  “You got it. No treating you differently. I promise.”

  2

  Deacon

  I lied.

  I told Ellie I’d never lie to her, but I did.

  And to make matters worse, I’ve been lying to her for years.

  The thing is, I can’t help but treat Ellie Green differently. Not because she’s my friend or because we’ve known each other half our lives.

  The reason is that I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember.

  When she told me she was moving back home, even though her situation sucked, I was ecstatic. I couldn’t wait to see her on a daily basis and be back in the same town with her. I’d missed her so much over the past three years while she was still in school and working in Portland and I was back here.

  Although I dated her friend Kari in high school, it was Ellie’s friendship that I hung on to. And then everything changed after we went to college. It was as if I’d been blindfolded for years and suddenly my eyes were open, and I started seeing Ellie as the woman she’d become, not the girl I used to know.

  Two years ago, Ellie graduated college and invited me to her graduation party. I drove the two hours to Portland to hang out with her and her friends at a small pub that night. While we spent the night drinking, dancing and laughing together, I began to feel this itch – this prickling sensation - over my skin and limbs every time I heard Ellie’s bright, infectious laughter.

  As the night had progressed, Ellie began talking to some grabby-hands asshat and my blood began to boil with possessiveness. Mr.Douchewad was hanging all over her that night and it was then that the first inklings of jealousy creeped through my veins and clenched in the pit of my stomach.

  That’s when I rushed to her side out on the dance floor and didn’t let her out of my sight the rest of the night.

  And fuck me, I’d wanted to kiss her so bad.

  At one point, I almost did. We were swaying together to a slow country tune, her head against my chest, staring up at me with the most wistful expression. One that begged me to kiss her. I was just about to do just that, lean down and brush my lips against hers, when some sloppy drunk jackhole bumped into us and ruined the moment.

  And th
at was that.

  Her friend Sarina grabbed her by the elbow and shouted that we were all going out for pizza and I lost my chance. We stayed out ‘til four a.m. that night and soon the weekend was over, I drove back home, she remained in Portland, and then she began dating Tom.

  For two years I’ve patiently waited for another chance to make my feelings known. I wouldn’t say I’ve been a celibate monk, or anything, but I’ve never gotten serious with a girl. I’ve had a few dalliances with woman who come into town to vacation, including a local girl named Bethany. But she knew the score. My time was dedicated to my business and she was just a summer renter.

  So here I am, two years later, hoping the girl I’ve fallen in love with will finally see me as something more than a friend and shoulder to lean on. Maybe this is my chance to prove to her how good we’d be together.

  “Hey boss, where do you want this new shipment of life vests?”

  I look up from my paperwork at the sound Cody’s voice jarring me from my thoughts.

  Cody stands on the other side of the front counter with a cardboard shipping box in hand, looking typically disheveled. He’s a great kid. He just finished his freshman year in college and has been working for me part-time during the summers over the last several years. He’s been a great help as I’ve been getting ready for the peak summer season and purchasing new equipment, slowly but surely replacing all the old stuff my dad has been using for years.

  I wave my hand toward the supply room. “Just put them back there until we can reorganize and throw out the old stuff later. Oh, and by the way, I have a new employee starting tomorrow that I’d like your help training. She’s a friend of mine.”

  Being the nineteen-year-old horny kid that he is, Cody inevitably gives me an interested cock of the eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Is she hot?”

  I glower at him. “Dude, she’s too old for you.”

  He cackles with mischief. “A hot cougar? Nothing wrong with older women, bro.”

  For some reason, this gets my hackles up and my protective instincts kick in. Although I know Cody’s only half joking, I have too many jumbled feelings when it comes to Ellie. Of course, she’s my friend, first and foremost, and I want the best for her.

  However, I also want my chance with her. Come hell-or-high water, this time around will be the make-it-or-break-it for me. I won’t let this chance pass me by without admitting to her how I feel.

  In the meantime, there’s this little dilemma of her becoming my employee and her request that I not treat her differently from Cody.

  I scoff as he ambles past me in that lackadaisical meander he has, carrying the boxes in hand.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I grumble, hoping he won’t hear the jealousy in my tone. My head pops up again. “Wait, weren’t you seeing someone? What happened to what’s-her-name? Mia? Mila?”

  “Mira.” He chuckles, shaking his head at my denseness. “We broke up. She was way too fucking possessive. I just couldn’t deal.”

  I give him a head nod, knowing exactly what he’s referring to. My college ex, Shayla, fit that description to a T. We were together six months and the moment we slept together she started getting clingy and jealous. Especially over my friendship with Ellie.

  I guess I can’t blame her. The writing was always on the wall, and somehow Shayla’s instincts latched on to that fact. Maybe a part of me has always saved a portion of my heart for Ellie.

  Stuffing the paperwork in my filing system – a term I use very loosely, because it is a disaster – I close and lock the drawer.

  “Sorry to hear that, man. Guess you’ll have more time to work now and maybe be on time more often.”

  Cody’s already in the back with the door open so I can hear his laughter. We both know that won’t happen. He’s notoriously late for everything. I’ve found it’s in my best interest to schedule him fifteen minutes before I actually need his shift to start. But that isn’t always a foolproof plan either.

  “Yeah, right, bro. You can always hope.”

  I laugh along with him. “Well, let’s hope you can at least be on time tomorrow so you can watch the front while I get Ellie started on her new hire paperwork.”

  “Sure thing, boss. Will do.” He clicks his tongue and shoots me the cocked gun sign with his fingers.

  I’ll believe it when I see it.

  3

  Ellie

  “I’ll give you a quick tour before Cody gets in.”

  Deacon steps back from the hug he gave me and smiles one of his friendly, boyish grins, gesturing for me to follow.

  It’s Monday morning and I arrived at eight-thirty a.m., the time he had requested, so he could get my paperwork started before the store opened at nine. He mentioned something about his employee, Cody, likely being late, so he wanted to get me started in the event he had to open the store without him.

  Powell’s Surf Shop & Sports had been around and in his family for over thirty years. His father, Allen, had opened it right after he and his mother had married and before Deacon was born. For as long as I can remember, it’s been a big draw within the small hometown of Hillside Cliffs, where people flock to during the summer seasons to enjoy the beautiful Pacific Northwest coastal living. The winter months are much quieter with fewer tourists venturing out when the cold winter winds blow in and the ocean brings out her feisty side.

  Those are the months I’ve always loved the most. When you can bundle up and take walks out on the sandy beaches when no one else is around. When all you hear is the wind whipping from the west and feel that sting of Mother Nature snapping her damp force across your face.

  I follow Deacon around the store as he points out the plethora of surfing gear, fishing poles, sea kayaks, bicycles and other rentals that I’ll need to learn. The shop boasts an impressive stock of anything a vacationer could possibly need during their ocean retreat.

  “What in the world is this?” I ask with interest, picking up a gigantic inflatable contraption.

  “Ah, that’s the latest craze. It’s a sumo surf suit.”

  I choke out a laugh. “A what?”

  He pulls out a card that provides a brief description of the odd-looking tube vest and hands it to me.

  “It’s the latest craze that allows you to surf and skim across the waves wearing this giant inflatable tube vest, no board required. You don’t even have to learn how to use it and doesn’t take years of practice to get good like surfing.”

  I briefly scan the instructions and nod.

  “Sounds fun and probably something I should try out. No matter how many times you tried to teach me, you know I could never learn to surf.”

  While the waves in this area can be good for surfers, you don’t find the kind of a surfing folk here that you do in California. The water temperature in the Oregon ocean is vastly different and the breaks here aren’t as big or predictable. South of our town about thirty miles is an area called Cape Kiwanda where many surfers will hang out with swells of over six feet. That’s where we’d go in high school with our friends and hang out.

  Deacon chuckles, his face lighting up with mischief. “Remember that time you, me, Kari and Sanders went down to Kiwanda for a weekend? God, those were good times.”

  I stick my tongue out and roll my eyes. “Right, it was all fun and games until I got pummeled by that giant wave that hit me so hard, I nearly drowned.”

  Deacon scratches at his short beard and raises his eyebrows, then snaps his fingers and gives me a pointed stare. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. You’re never allowed to go out on a surfboard again, young lady.”

  I stuff the information card back into the rack and turn to look up at Deacon, who stands nearly a foot taller than me. Although not clean shaven like he used to be, he hasn’t changed much. His sandy-blond hair still looks tousled, like he’s come straight from bed or the water. His brown, maple-syrup eyes are dark, but hold a gentle concern for everyone he talks to. And his bright-white toothed smile always lights up a room.


  The memory reminds me of all the fun we had in high school. And of Kari.

  “Have you heard from her recently?” I ask point blank, not needing to clarify who it is I’m referring to.

  Deacon turns away and shrugs as I pick up a paddle and hold it to occupy my hands from reaching for him on their own accord.

  “Not since the last time she was in town after her dad died, I think three years ago. But I think she’s happy with her life now. She definitely got the hell out of Dodge.”

  I snort laugh and my eyes volley between Deacon and the oar in my hands. But then an uncomfortable silence descends between us, as we both seem to be recalling our past and the way things had once been and what could have been.

  “How about you, though? Are you happy with your life, Deac?”

  Deacon gives me a wide, enthusiastic smile, throwing his arms out to his sides, Vanna White-style.

  “Of course, I am, Ellie Belly. I have the world at my fingertips,” he playfully acknowledges, although I hear a strong hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Who wouldn’t want all of this?”

  Deacon and I had some long talks when we were still in college about his desire to do something more than run the shop. It was in his blood, but he’d secretly wanted to become a sports analyst and commentator. He loved all kinds of sports - most of all, swimming. His dream was to be a network commentator and someday broadcast for the Olympics.

  Instead, he returned back home and is living a completely different life than one he dreamed about all those years ago.

  Still, he’s got a pretty good gig, considering that one of us currently has absolutely zero career prospects at all at the moment.

  I swat at him playfully with the paddle before putting it back and following behind him as he begins our tour once again.

  “I think what you’ve done with the shop is pretty damn impressive, Deacon, and I’m sure your dad is really proud of you. He must trust you a whole lot if he just handed over his business to you like that.”