Castle in the Sand

a couple embraces in front of a sunset

Claire’s returned to Nonesuch, the beach house she shared with her friends…but she’s not alone. Past love finds her there even though she’s not looking. Malcolm want something Claire might not give him — a second chance.

Castle in the Sand was orginally published as Sand Castle

Available now at:

Excerpt:

“Hello, Claire. I wasn’t certain you’d be here.”

He pronounced it “sair-tin,” in the faint lilt of a Scottish burr that hadn’t faded though he’d spent nearly twenty years in the United States.

“The list goes around in December.”

Tracey, the most organized of them, had been in charge of the duty roster since the Fellowship had bought the house. Every year, she sent around a list of whose turn it was to open the house and make it ready for their shared week. Whose responsibility it was to shut it up at the end of the season. Who was in charge of contacting the local realty company that handled the rentals during the times none of them were using the house. The list changed from year to year, so everyone had a turn.

Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “You knew it was my turn to open up. I just…I just didn’t realize it was yours…

His hair was tousled and damp. His white T-shirt clung to him, and his jeans were dark with wet. The sudden flash of lightning and the patter of rain told her why. He bent and pulled a brightly colored beach towel out of a mesh bag at his feet and used it to scrub his hair toward dryness.

“It’s not. Dale had to work this weekend and couldn’t get off until later in the week. So I came in his place. I wanted to get in a swim before dark. The storm caught me.”

Claire and Malcolm hadn’t shared house-opening duties since…before. She chewed on her lip for a moment. Surrounded by their friends, with laughter and companionship to cushion the distance between them, she’d always been able to ignore him. Now, without anyone else around… Claire lifted her chin. She’d be fine. In a few days, the others would be here. Surely she could stand to be alone with Malcolm for two days. Three at the most.

What’s the worst that could happen in three days?

“I know you’re surprised to see me. And not pleasantly.” He finished with his towel and hung it on the back of a chair, then stepped closer to her.

Claire caught a whiff of salt and sand. The scent filled her head and made it spin. She took a deep breath and kept her expression carefully blank.

He moved closer still until he stood directly in front of her. His feet were bare. He’d cuffed his jeans. Her eyes traveled the height of a body she’d once known as well as her own, and she finally looked at his face

He’d changed the least of them over the years. He still had the same rounded, boyish features and thin-lipped mouth that could quirk into a playboy’s smile in an instant. His hair was still the color of wet sand. His eyes remained the color of the sea, sometimes green or gray or blue…or a mixture of all three.

Malcolm tilted his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d see me.”

How could she have ever thought she’d be able to ignore him? Claire backed away until she hit the edge of the counter. “Of course I see you. This is the only place we ever see each other.” Anymore. It hadn’t always been that way…

He nodded. “I always see you here. But, Claire, you never see me.”

Claire’s jaw clenched, and she forced herself to relax. “Don’t be silly.”

He came closer and lifted a hand, as though unable to help himself. He touched the length of her hair, which had come loose from its ponytail and now draped over her shoulder. His fingers caught in the strands, tangled, tugged.

Claire jerked away from his touch, then stalked past him toward the tiny living room. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought it was going to leap right out of her skin. Her head spun. Chills ran up and down her spine, rapidly, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. She took in a breath, then another, but couldn’t seem to fill her lungs. She was going to faint. What was wrong with her?

She shook her head furiously, like a dog shaking off water, and bit her tongue. Sharp pain gave her focus. Her knees still shook, a little, but she straightened them along with her back.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Malcolm said from behind her. “Claire, believe me, I didn’t.”

Her voice came out harsher than she meant it to. “No. You never mean it, do you? Is that supposed to make it any better?”

She glared at him over her shoulder. He scrubbed at his face, then ran his hand through his hair. His accent thickened, and Claire remembered how the way he’d pronounced his words had once made her stomach tumble.

“Maybe…no. But it’s all I can give you.”

Fury ignited in her. She’d spent years being pleasant to this man, when the very sight of him had made her want to scream. She’d taken pride in never allowing him to get under her skin, in being the better person, in not succumbing to the waves of anger and grief that could have ruined every summer. Now, with nothing more than a few words, he’d broken her. She hated him for that, and hated herself for allowing him to do it.

“It’s not enough!” The words dropped from her lips like toads in a fairy tale curse, and she regretted them instantly for again having given away too much of herself.

He shrugged, then held up his hands. Silent in the face of her fury. But then, what could he really have to say?

Claire shivered. Her feet and fingers were numb, icy despite the anger that should have brought heat to her cheeks. “It’s been eight years. In all that time, I haven’t ever raised my voice to you. I’ve never made it hard for us all to get together here–“

“You’ve never raised your voice because you don’t talk to me!” He moved toward her again, but this time, Claire stood her ground. “I’d take your anger if it meant you spoke to me, not around me! But you don’t even look at me, Claire. You don’t see me, and you haven’t in eight years!”

“It’s easier that way!” Her throat threatened to close on the words, but she forced them out. “Damn it, how do you think it is for me to spend a week every summer in this house with you? Sure, I could stomp and scream and gnash my teeth, but to what purpose? There are six other people who come to this house. Six other people I consider my very dearest friends. People I love, and who love me–“

“And who love me, too,” he put in quietly.

“And who love you, too,” Claire replied. “And because they love you, and they love me, I never wanted to make it hard for them. I never wanted to let what happened between us turn everything sour. I didn’t want to ruin Nonesuch for everyone just because…just because it had been ruined for me.”

Then, to her horror, tears slid in burning lines down her cheeks. A sob tore from her throat. Claire’s hands flew to her mouth, startled, to hold back the cry, but only managed to muffle it.

“Damn you!” she croaked. “Damn you to hell and back again!”

“Believe me,” Malcolm told her. “I swear I’ve been there already.”