Beach Winds Read Online Free PDF Page B

back to her soft, convenient life.
    It didn ’t take long for a woman to forget a guy. Took even less time for her to replace him.
    Brian grabbed his leather jacket from the handlebar and shrugged it on. He threw his leg over the motorcycle, jammed the helmet down on his head. Not ideal weather for bike riding, but his mood demanded it.
    He was almost a mile down the road when he remembered what Will had said about his niece. Aside from his elderly sister, Fran was the only blood relative, or relative of any kind for that matter, who was worth anything. Which, in Brian ’s opinion, was about the saddest thing a man could admit. The only thing sadder was when Will had also said if a man lives long enough, he outlives his friends and everyone he loves. To Brian’s way of thinking, that wasn’t all bad. At least, it meant you once had friends and loved ones worth keeping.
    He parked his bike in the garage next to his apartment. The apartment was on the back of the garage. Now that was convenience he could appreciate.
    His phone beeped. He pulled off his helmet and heavy jacket, and dropped them on the chair by the door. He stripped the sweatshirt over his head and tossed it over the back of the chair. The sudden loss of thermal warmth caused a shiver, yet it was a relief at the same time. One day he’d learn to wear the suit and protect his legs, too, so he could walk like a whole person, instead of limping along like he was still injured. He dropped onto the couch and put his boots on the coffee table, then touched the voicemail icon to retrieve the message. It was his sister, his well-meaning and interfering sister.
    “ Are you coming to dinner tonight? Mom and Dad will be here and hoping to see you. Let me know. Give me a call. Come whether you call or not. Dinner’s at six and I’m making one of your favorite meals. If six doesn’t work for you, we can eat a little later. Please come, Brian. It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together.”
    Unlike Will, he had family that was worth something, but he ’d lost the connection. He pulled off one boot and then the other, wincing at the pain in his thigh, and put his feet back up on the table. He laid his head back against the soft sofa, letting loose a groan since there was no one to hear. His back. His neck. His leg. The muscles had tightened up like a board, each twisting the other, even after a year. The cold didn’t help. He rubbed his thigh.
    Someday maybe he ’d get his old enthusiasm back. He would welcome it, and his family, back into his life. There was more to life than what he was doing now. There had to be more. But for a long while now, he couldn’t remember what.
    Now, apparently, he was a handyman and a house painter. He stood abruptly, jolting his back and thigh. He paced the room, which only took about twenty steps. He was going to paint the inside of Will’s house. For this woman. Not for Will. Will was happy with his house as it was. But what would a coat of paint hurt?
    He could watch out for Will ’s interests at the same time. Maybe intervene if she wasn’t living up to Will’s expectations.
    He searched the freezer for the most likely looking frozen dinner. Salisbury steak and gravy? Beef tips and broccoli? He kept digging until he found the least objectionable one. He ’d make do.
    He was a simple kind of guy and it didn ’t take much to make him happy. Well, not happy, but content. Enough, anyway. He knew the good and the bad and had learned that you have to be willing to live somewhere in-between.
    ****
    The next morning, Brian stood in the middle of Will’s living room and scratched his head. If she’d started painting yesterday, why did everything look so completely in place? The ladder was standing in the corner with a few books stacked on its steps as if that were its true purpose.
    Behind him, she cleared her throat and said, “I didn’t move the furniture. I thought we might start with one blank wall and then move