Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

Bolstering myself, I’d walked over from where I was dusting the fireplace mantel in the inn reception area, to where he was staring at the little bell located at the check-in counter.

“Rex?”

He turned toward me.

And he smiled. “Bailey.”

Surprised by his congenial tone, I walked right up to him. “What are you doing here?”

This time his smile was sad as his dark brown eyes wandered over my face. I’d found Rex adorable when we first met because he reminded me of my teenage crush, Josh Hartnett. He was dark and tall like him, charming and cute. He was a very cute twenty-four-year-old young man.

“I . . . uh . . .” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching over as if he were uncomfortable. “I guess I came here to talk.”

“Is it about what I did? Calling you like that? Because I have been meaning to get in touch to apologize. I wasn’t in my right mind; it had just happened, I had just caught them and they were, you know, and

it was bad and I saw her purse and I just grabbed her phone and then I called you and it was bad and I shouldn’t have—”

“Bailey.” He interrupted my ramble. “It’s okay. It may not have been the right way to do it, but it was the right thing to do. Telling me, I mean. So thank you.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Yeah. I know. That’s kind of why I’m here.”

“Oh?”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and glanced around, as though he were checking we were alone. “Do you have some time right now . . . to talk?”

“I can take a walk,” I said.

Rex seemed to deflate with relief. “Great. I just . . . Okay, you can say no, but I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about Erin and . . . I need someone to talk to. You’re the only person I know who gets it.”

The truth was I had moved on from Tom. Yes, I still missed my friend. I missed the familiarity of him, and having this person in my life who knew me so well. But my heart was aching over someone else. Over a different kind of situation.

Yet . . . I could still sympathize with Rex. It might be nice to be distracted from my own hurt by talking about someone else’s pain for a while.

And of course . . . I could never say no to the wounded.

After I let Mona know where I was going, I walked Rex out and onto the boardwalk. In silence, I led him down onto the beach where we both took off our shoes and let our feet sink in the soft sand. The summer season was in full swing now, and even after sunset the beach was busy. Still, we had privacy in our little bubble of two as we began to make our way along the shore.

“So what would you like to talk about?” I started.

“I feel a little weird now that I’m here. I mean, we barely know each other and this shit is kind of personal.”

“I know this may mean nothing to you but believe me when I say you can trust me. I’m a vault.”

“Tom used to say that.” Rex flinched at his name. “He used to wax lyrical about you, about how much he trusted you, how you were so loyal. I think I was more shocked about him screwing you over than I was about Erin.”

Maybe I wasn’t quite over my ex’s betrayal because Rex’s words weren’t exactly easy to hear.

“I guess he forgot all that when Erin’s twenty-three-year-old breasts bounced by.”

I immediately regretted my sardonic tone because Rex paled.

Squeezing his arm, I apologized. “I have no filter.”

He gave me a weak smile. “Tom said that, too.”

“Tom said a lot, huh?”