Willa rolls her eyes but laughs, the sound curling around my ribs and settling there like it’s home.
I slow the boat as we pass beneath the lighthouse. It’s glowing gold in the late afternoon, casting its beam across the water like something out of a postcard. Willa turns toward me, her hand slipping into mine, her fingers squeezing gently.
“Ready for the next chapter?” she asks.
I grin. “Aye aye, captain.”
Our passengers clap. I think someone wipes a tear.
Honestly? This is the life.
After the tour, we dock the boat and thank our little group of dreamy-eyed tourists, who swear they’re coming back for the Valentine’s cruise we just made up and started planning last week.
Willa hops down to the dock and immediately slips on some water.
“Careful,” I say, catching her before she face plants.
She mutters something, but I kiss her anyway. Right there on the dock in front of everyone.
Old Pete whistles from his bench. “Get a cabin, ya horny sea biscuits!”
Donna, who somehow appeared behind him with a notebook in one hand and a chocolate croissant in another, says. “Oh, Iamusing that line.”
Willa pulls back, panting. “She’s writing us into her next book, isn’t she?”
“Definitely a strong possibility,” I say. “Should I be worried she called me a horny sea biscuit?”
“Probably.”
That night, back in the cabin, I find her curled up by the fire, cat on her lap, sketching ideas for a new tour, the “WinterSolstice Love Stories” ride. She looks up when I walk in and asks, “Think we can get Remy to dress up like a sea ghost?”
“No,” I say. “But we could probably get Finn to.”
Willa lights up. “Oh my god. Yes. Hewould.”
I sit beside her and hand her a tiny bottle.
She tilts her head. “Another one?”
I nod.
She opens it. Unrolls the paper. Reads it slowly, her lips moving.
“Will you marry me?”
She says nothing for a second. Just looks at me like Iamher whole damn world. I love it when she looks at me like that.
And then she kisses me like we’ve still got a thousand more chapters to write.
Which, for the record, we do. Because I’m not going anywhere. I’m not drifting anymore. I’m anchored. To her and this town. And I wouldn’t change a thing.
