Clallam Bay (A Fresh Start #2) by L. C. Morgan Page A

goodnight, but it’s morning and I’m leaving in two hours. Probably be useless to try and get some sleep, but you should,” he said, taking the stairs. “Being such a smart ass has to be exhausting.” He smiled, but I still couldn’t tell if he was aggravated with me or not.
    Standing at the top of the steps, I wrapped my arms around my middle as he shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the dirt below.
    “This is usually the longest I’m gone all year. A few of us guys help out on the crabbers for extra cash.” He scratched his chin on his shoulder. “Not many are willing to do it.”
    “Because it’s so dangerous?”
    He tilted his head and shrugged. “That and it’s really fucking cold out there. Listen …” Pulling one of his hands out of his pockets, he ran it through his hair. “I don’t know how much down time I’ll have, but I was thinkin’ I could try and write. Ya know, if you want.” He shrugged. “I don’t have a cell phone. Can’t text. I could borrow one of the guys’, but that’d be a hassle. Payphones pretty much don’t exist anymore. I figure a handwritten letter is the next best thing.”
    It was better, actually. Never in my life had I received a handwritten letter that wasn’t passed under a desk in the middle of a classroom. And never from a guy.
    I realized I hadn’t said anything when he looked up.
    “Yeah. Definitely. I’d like that. Yeah,” I said, trying to sound cooler than I felt and most likely failing miserably, judging by the way he smiled down at the ground just before backing away.
    “Well, all right then.”
    Turning, he headed for his house, giving me a fixed wave just before disappearing inside.
    I was too wired to sleep but lay down beside Amber anyway. Eyes closed, she turned her head to face me.
    “You get a kiss goodnight?” She made kissy noises into the pillow.
    “No.”
    “Too bad. You want me to give you a kiss goodnight?”
    “No.”
    Sighing, she turned away, and I kissed her on the back of her head before dozing off myself. I woke the next morning to a new sense of wonderment followed by a sharp slap on the ass.
    “Wake up! There was a storm last night and it knocked out the electricity. You’re late!”

Chapter Nine
    To my right, Amber sniffed, and it was useless to try and hold back the tears. Neither one of us had ever lasted through the “don’t-cry-during-the-sad-scene Steel Magnolias challenge.” Neither one. Not once.
    “Pass the tissues, would ya?”
    Grabbing a few myself, I handed over the box. Amber took it and practically lost her nose.
    The rain hit harder against the window as if it had lost the challenge as well. Either that or the sky really was broken and the clouds were here to stay. It had stormed off and on all week, pretty much confining us to the house. But the worst was still to come since Amber was leaving today.
    Sniffles could be heard between the raindrops hitting the car on the way to the airport. Our tears mixed with the water already staining our shoulders as we hugged goodbye, and I wiped more away as I watched my best friend since birth round the corner to board her plane. I was going to miss her. Having Amber here felt like home. I missed it. I missed my family. My other friends. Almost to the point where I crawled into one of Amber’s bags and stowed off to Chicago with her.
    But I was glad I didn’t. It was the very next afternoon I received the first letter.
    My stomach had rolled in anticipation every day that the mailman drove by. Or at least by the time I thought the mailman drove by. That was usually when I found the mail in the mailbox. I hadn’t actually seen the mail truck. I thought maybe I’d heard it once. Point being, there was definitely a mail truck that drove by at some point every day, except Sunday, and I had been anticipating it daily since Coll left. Which was silly because snail mail was slow. It took time. A week to be exact.
    I was driving home with a mouthful of double