A Hazel Island Novella: One Perfect Summer
Auteur
Iris Morland
Lezers
171K
Hoofdstukken
15
Itâs just a summer flingâŚright?
Practical and reliable, Bekah Matthews is tired of her good-girl image. After her boyfriend dumps her, she decides to throw caution to the wind.
So what better way to let her hair down than to have a no-strings-attached fling while living on the paradise that is Hazel Island?
Enter: Elliot Parker and Bekahâs high school crush.
Luckily for Bekah, Elliot is just as dreamy as he was a decade ago, and heâs not looking for commitment.
This playboy isnât about to turn down a gorgeous woman like Bekah for some steamy loving, either.
Yet with their hearts now on the line, can this fling turn into a love for all seasons?
Chapter 1
Bekah Matthews gaped at her boyfriend of three years.
âYou know we were never meant to go the distance,â Sam was saying. âWeâre just not compatible. You know that, too.â
Bekah did not know that. She and Sam had been dating for three years now. Sam had given her a key to his place, and vice versa. Theyâd discussed moving into their own place together just two weeks ago.
âHow is everything?â asked the waiter.
Bekah had barely started eating her linguine, and now she was seriously considering tossing it in Samâs face.
âItâs great, thanks.â Sam barely glanced at the waiter, his tone dismissive.
As a scientist, Bekah had always prided herself on being logical and practical. When she and Sam had first started seeing each other, sheâd written down a list of pros and cons about him. One of the biggest pros was that he was ambitious in his career as a lawyer. It was also one of his biggest cons, Bekah had eventually realized.
âWell? Do you have anything you want to say?â said Sam.
Bekah felt as though the English language had exited the building that was her brain. She took a long drink of water, then an even longer one of the wine sheâd ordered.
âI never thought...â She swallowed. âIâm in shock.â
If she were being honest, sheâd honestly thought Sam taking her to the fanciest restaurant on Hazel Island meant he might be proposing.
Well, he was proposingâproposing to end their relationship. That thought made Bekah return to her glass of wine.
âWeâve hardly seen each other in the last few months,â said Sam. âIâve been busy with work, you with your research. The spark is gone.â He leaned forward, his voice lowering. âThere hasnât been a spark for a while now.â
Bekah felt her cheeks turn red. âNo, I donât think thatâs true. I think you can create sparks if you want to,â she said, rather sharply.
âDonât drag this out when we both know itâs already dead.â Sam then reached under his chair and pulled out a gift bag. He plopped the bag in front of Bekah, but she didnât reach out to take it.
âItâs a gift,â he said lamely.
âYou got me a âIâm dumping youâ gift.â She just looked at him.
Now he finally looked self-conscious. âNow Iâm wondering if that was a bad idea. I just thought...â He shrugged. âI didnât want us to end on bad terms. I do care about you. Youâre a good person.â
Bekah pulled out the tissue paper to discover a small screwdriver set inside. Screwdrivers. Bekah glanced around, wondering where the hidden cameras were, because surely this entire debacle was a prank.
A receipt fluttered out of the bag. âIn case you want to return it,â said Sam.
At this point, Bekah had merely been in shock, dismayed. But when she looked at the receipt and saw that Sam had purchased this gift over a year ago, rage coursed through her in hot, quick waves.
Heâd wanted to end this a year ago. Yet he hadnât said a word until now. Humiliation made her want to sob. Heâd wanted to move on and had delayed the breakup. Why?
A year ago, her beloved dog had died. Then her mom had broken her leg, and Bekah had had to help care for her that summer.
Rising from her chair, Bekah crumpled the receipt and tossed it in Samâs face. âYou know, if you wanted to make this a clean breakup, you probably shouldnât have included a gift receipt dated from a year ago,â she snapped.
Samâs face turned white. âShit, Bekahââ
Bekah tossed back the rest of her wine, then did the same with Samâs glass. âYou know what? Break up with me. Thatâs fine. But donât feel sorry for me. Iâm a big girl, Sam. I think Iâll survive without you.â Emboldened, she added, âGod knows my vibrator has given me more orgasms than you ever did.â
That remark earned her a sneer from him. âDonât act offended, Bekah. We both know you arenât marriage material, anyway.â
She turned and left without another word. When she exited the restaurant, their waiter gave her a quick nod, as if he were telling her, Good for you.
It was a warm summer night on the island, the sun only starting to set. Hazel Island, population fewer than one thousand, was a small island in the Puget Sound that was as idyllic as it sounded. Bekah had grown up here for the most part, although sheâd lived in Seattle to attend the University of Washington. She now lived here again, specifically to study the orca pods that lived in the surrounding waters. She was only a year away from earning her doctorate in marine biology.
Bekah considered going home, but she hadnât gotten another dog since Maybelle had died, so it was rather lonely. She was just glad she hadnât worn heels for tonight and had decided to walk to the restaurant. Sam didnât deserve her wearing heels and killing her feet. If anything, he deserved to be pushed off the nearest cliff into the freezing ocean.
The main street was bustling tonight, with both locals and tourists. Laughter and music floated around her, but she barely heard either. Mostly, she was telling herself she couldnât start crying right here in the street.
Three years down the drain. Three years playing second fiddle to Samâs career, hoping that once he passed the bar and began working as a lawyer, they could settle down together. Get married, start a family. But Sam had been reluctant to go to the next step in their relationship. Itâs just not the right time, heâd say. I donât want to move too quickly.
Well, the joke was on Bekah, because heâd had no intention of marrying her. Heâd wanted to end things a year ago. A year ago! Bekah fumed. Heâd thought she was too fragile to tell her the truth. She hated that. She hated pity. She preferred blunt honesty. It might hurt, but at least she knew where people stood.
Not marriage material. What the fuck did that even mean? Bekah rubbed her arms. She wasnât good enough to marry? She wasnât suited to being a wife and mother? She didnât understand. Sheâd thought sheâd been a good, supportive girlfriend. She hadnât nagged, she hadnât pushed. She hadnât tried to make Sam change.
Maybe that had been the problem: she hadnât worked to make herself grow in the relationship, and she hadnât expected the same from Sam. Theyâd come to a place that was basically relationship stasisâneither good nor bad. It just...was. But as Bekah thought more about it, she realized that if sheâd ever loved Sam, that love had dissipated like fog burned away by the sun.
When she felt sand beneath her feet, she realized sheâd walked to the beach without thinking about her destination. She sighed, the sea air brisk, the setting sunâs rays making the water sparkle.
Bekah had always loved the ocean. She loved how endless it seemed, how much of it remained unexplored. She marveled at all of the wildlife that lived within it. Sheâd known at an early age that her fascination with marine life would be a defining factor in her life.
Her attention was pulled away from her musings when she heard a bird squawking in distress. Frowning, Bekah saw a large bird some yards away, and then she noticed that there was a person trying to do...something to it.
Bekah hurried toward the scene. As she got closer, she saw that the bird was a pelican, and that the person was attempting to extricate the poor thing from a net that had wrapped around its large beak.
âCome on, buddy, Iâm just trying to help,â said the man in low tones. He had a pocketknife in his hand, but the pelican kept thrashing, making it difficult for him to cut it loose.
âGive me the knife,â she said to the man. When he looked at her in surprise, she added, âIâm a marine biologist. You can hold him while I free him. Iâve done this before.â
The manâs face had been shadowed by the bulk of the pelicanâs beak. But when he handed her the pocketknife and she got a good look at his face, she nearly dropped the tool on the poor birdâs head.
It was Elliot Parker. Her high school crush, the boy whoâd stood up to her bullies for her and then had just as quickly ghosted her.
And to her immense annoyance, he was even more handsome than heâd been at eighteen. Now, he had the confidenceâand musclesâof a man.
âMaâam?â said Elliot. âWhat do you want me to do?â
Bekah had to stifle a hysterical laugh. He didnât recognize her.
Of course not. Why would he? Itâs been eight years since weâve seen each other?
Shaking off the surprise, she directed Elliot to hold the pelican close, keeping its wings from flapping about. Kneeling in the sand, Bekah hardly noticed that her brand-new dress was getting soaked and dirty.
The net had somehow wrapped around the pelicanâs beak, making it nearly impossible for the creature to open its mouth. She began cutting at the net, making shushing noises when the bird tried to pull away.
âWeâll get you free soon, promise,â she kept saying. The net wasnât flimsy, and the knife wasnât all that sharp, so by the time Bekah had finished, sweat had begun to dot her forehead.
She looked at Elliot. âIâm about to get this off of him. Youâll want to back away quickly so you donât get hit in the face when he flies off.â
Elliotâs lips quirked, which made her heart do a pitter-pat in her chest. âNoted.â
Bekah forced her attention back to the task at hand. She cut one last bit of the lines, tugging the net off of it. Once sheâd gotten out of the way, Elliot followed her.
The pelican opened its beak wide and then squawked loudly while flapping its wings. And then it was gone, flying into the horizon.
âWell,â said Elliot a few moments later, âthat was pretty cool.â
Bekah still had his pocketknife in her hand. Handing it back, she looked around for a trash can to dispose of the net, but she didnât see any close by.
Looking down at herself, she realized that not only was she holding remnants of a net, but that she was covered in sand, water, and even some seaweed. She probably looked insane. Her cheeks were probably red; she was sweaty despite the ocean air, and she could feel her updo falling down.
She probably looked like a total crazy woman.
Of course, Elliot looked amazing: his dirty blond hair was perfectly windswept. If he was sweating, she couldnât tell. When he flashed her a charming smile, even his teeth seemed to gleam.
âThanks for your help,â said Elliot, making Bekah realize she hadnât said a word to him in minutes. âYouâve done that before?â
âA few times. Itâs not uncommon, unfortunately.â
âYou said youâre a marine biologist?â
âYes. Well, Iâm finishing up my doctorate this year. Iâm studying orca pods, especially their migration patterns and how theyâve shifted in the last decade.â Bekah, I doubt he cares about the mundane details of your research, she told herself.
Elliot seemed like he was barely listening. âCool. Iâm Elliot Parker, by the way.â He held out a hand for her to shake.
She didnât know if it was the remnants of her conversation with Sam, or her annoyance at not being recognized, or that this handsome, dreamy man seemed to look right through her, but Bekah didnât take his hand to shake it.
âI know who you are,â she said simply.
Elliot blinked. âDo we know each other?â
âWe did, a long time ago.â She smiled, her expression sardonic. âHave a nice evening, Elliot.â
