I sit at my desk at school, tapping my pen, waiting for a copy of the yearbook from two thousand and one to appear on my computer screen.

Why do I care?

Why am I torturing myself?

Maybe it was the way he smiled at me last night. Or how he really seemed to appreciate my help with Sydney. Did that spur the small hope that maybe he's ready to move on from her?

The yearbook comes up and there's his class on the cover. Climax Cove isn't a huge town so you can imagine how small our graduating class is.

His arm is slung over Melissa’s shoulders, his clean-shaven face showcasing his wide smile confirming how happy he was with her. My finger clicks the mouse and scrolls through the digital copy of the yearbook and page after page—Garrett or Melissa are plastered all over this thing. It might as well be called ‘Class of Two Thousand and One: The Year of Garrett and Melissa. I click the X to close the file, annoyed with myself.

A knock hits my door.

“Come in.” I double-check my screen to make sure all evidence of my snooping is gone.

Sydney Shaw walks in. “Miss Rose?”

“Hi, Sydney. Come in.”

She takes a seat in the chair in front of me. After staring at pictures of Melissa just a second ago, I see the resemblance to Sydney now. Most people in town think she's more Garrett than Melissa, but I think that's because Melissa isn't walking the streets side by side with her.

“Um...I was wondering.” She looks out my window. Not much of a scene other than the parking lot. The other side gets the view of the ocean. “Do you think you'd be willing to take me to the store?”

“Oh. Of course.” I stand to go to the nurse's station. “Did you need more pads?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I went last night.”

I tilt my head and scrunch up my forehead because her dad was at the meeting until well after everything was closed.

“I rode my bike.”

I nod. I don't know whether to feel sorry for Garrett or to slap him upside the head. This girl has no one and he's so confused on what to do that it seems he’s doing nothing, which isn’t helping matters.

“Would you like to go after school?” I ask her, sitting down on the chair next to her.

“Um...I need to go to the mall.”

The mall is thirty miles away.

“Okay, I'd be happy to take you, but we'll have to tell your dad.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Sydney, I can't take you without him knowing.”

Her shoulders drop, but she nods. “Okay. Pick me up after school. I'll tell him.” She stands from her chair.

“Sydney?” I call out before she clears my office door.

She turns around, her books in her hands.

“You still set with enough pads?”

Her cheeks redden and she nods. “Yes.”

Then she's gone. Not one for small talk—well I sure know who she gets that from.

* * *

At four o'clock, I pull into the Shaw's driveway. It's a log cabin up in the hills and not too far away from the rest of the cabins Garrett’s built as rentals. The property they live in now was the first one he rented out for years before moving him and Sydney into it.

Garrett's truck is in the driveway and my stomach clenches with the thought of having to talk to him. My assumption is Sydney needs a bra and that's why she's coming to me. I didn’t want to push her in my office because I’m sure it was hard enough to even ask me if I’d help her in the first place, without forcing her to explain why.

I've noticed a lot of the girls in her grade wearing them—mostly because the boys think they're funny and pull them, hoping they unhook.

Little assholes.

I ring the doorbell and hear his footsteps on the other side before the door swings open.

From his surprised look, he wasn't expecting me. “Charlie?” he asks, not moving from the door.

Sydney jogs down the stairs with her purse crossways on her body.

“I'm going shopping with Charlie. I'll be back later.”

Garrett grabs ahold of her arm to stop her from escaping. “I'm sorry, what is going on?”

Sydney looks down, peeking up at me through her eyelashes.

“Sydney, why don't you meet me in the Jeep. Let me talk to your dad.”

Garrett narrows his eyes at me but releases Sydney.

She rises up on her toes and kisses him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

His eyes never leave me. “Don't thank me, I haven't said you can go yet.”

She falls back on the heels of her feet and she sulks on her way to my car.

“May I?” I motion with my hand to the inside of the cabin.

He opens the door further and allows me in, shutting it behind me.

Caterpillars morph into butterflies in my stomach because I'm alone with Garrett Shaw in his house. This is where he sleeps, where he eats and right away my mind wanders to a vision of him in his underwear watching television. Which is absurd because he has a preteen daughter.

“Why are you taking my daughter shopping?” He pats his back pockets, then his front, obviously searching for something.

“She asked me and I'm guessing she doesn't want to ask you, so it must be personal.”

“I'm her dad, what can't she ask me?”

I lean on the back of the brown leather couch, watching him flip cushions up and down and walk from the kitchen to the family room and back to the kitchen.

“I thought you got pretty good grades in school?” He stops his searching and stares at me. “I mean, you started this business from scratch so I'd think you were somewhat intelligent, Garrett. So, what gives?”

“What?” His forehead creases.

“Why do you act so dense when it comes to Sydney and the changes she’s going through? Did you think she'd stay three forever?”

Maybe I’m being harsh, but someone has to make him see that puberty is in full force in the Shaw household. I mean adult diapers and a period party the other night? Give me a break, he's smarter than this.

“Did I miss you having a kid of your own?” He crosses his arms over that broad chest of his and if I didn’t know we were about to go toe-to-toe I might drool.

“Don't play the whole I-don't-know-what-it's-like-because-I-don't-have-kids card.”

“It's true. You have no idea how hard it is to know that my daughter doesn't need or want me anymore. You think I keep tabs on the latest feminine products? If it's as major to her as it is to me that she got her fucking period, then maybe she should have a party. Don’t pretend to know what it’s like to be a man raising a daughter on your own who is almost a teenager. I’ve got enough problems as it is right now and I don’t need you giving me the gears about any of it.”

“Okay.” I hold my hands up in the air. “Let's start this over.”

His hands still stay crossed over his broad chest.

“I refuse to be shut out of her life.”

“Then I suggest you hop aboard the puberty train because it's not going to wait for you to be ready. She's growing up, Garrett.”

He turns around, but I catch his hand move to his beard. A low grumble leaves his mouth.

“So, I'm going to take her to the mall now. I'll have her back after dinner if that's okay with you?”

He turns back around. “I'm coming with you.”

“My Jeep isn't the train I was referring to,” I deadpan.

“We'll take my truck,” he says leaving no room for argument. He spots his phone on the kitchen counter and sighs in relief, then stuffs it in his pocket.

“I'm not sure she wants that.”

He's already walking to the door, opening it.

“Well, either we go through this change together or not at all.” He walks out the front door, waiting for me to join him.

“Technically, that's not true. The change is going to happen regardless—”

“Get in my truck, Charlie.”

“I'm just saying, you have no control over it and I get that's hard for you—”

“Charlie,” he sighs.

“Not to mention, she's not going through menopause.”

He waves to Sydney who is nice and comfortable in the front of my Jeep.

She rolls her eyes and climbs out.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Your dad is coming with us.”

Garrett says nothing but climbs into the driver's side of his truck.

“I'm drawing the line on the changing room.” Sydney shakes her head and climbs into the backseat of her dad's truck.

Is that supposed to mean I sit up front?

Shit, that's awkward.

Garrett honks the horn and I startle.

I open the passenger door and the scent of Garrett hits my nostrils. It's a manly smell, woodsy almost, but hard to pinpoint. The only thing my body seems to know is that it’s Garrett’s smell because I inhale deeply and my stomach gets that tingling sensation it sometimes does when he’s near.

“Maybe it should be your intelligence we’re questioning,” Garrett says, while I stand there. “I mean, you open the door and use the step to climb in.”

My head turns in his direction. I expect to find his familiar scowl, but instead he's smiling.

“That's not nice, Dad,” Sydney sticks up for me.

“I was deciding if I wanted to be this close to you or not,” I say and hop up to take my seat.

He turns the key in the ignition and leans over really close to grab something from the glove box.

“We both know you do.”

He grabs his sunglasses, places them over his eyes and pulls out of the driveway like he didn't just admit that he knows I've wanted him for years.