“That’s better than my mother.” I laugh. “She’ll leave hers up well after New Year’s. Loves it.” I chuckle again before I turn slightly toward Stella. “Knox, this is Stella. Stella, this is my hotshot cousin—”
“Knox Carter,” Stella says, cutting me off while she stares at him. “I am a huge football fan, and though your time in the NFL was short, you certainly made an impact.”
I try not to laugh as she completely fangirls out on my cousin. Everyone around town is used to him being out and about, but for her, I’m sure it’s insane to run into him like this, and I know she just made his entire day. He gave up football a while back so that he could be there for his kids while they grew up. I know he’s always been more than happy with his decision, but leaving had to have been hard for him too.
“Thank you, thank you,” he drawls, flashing her a pleased grin before he looks down at her boots. “My wife has those boots. Along with about … five other colors.”
She smiles at me. “Thanks. Ridge forced me to get them, and now I think I also need, like, five more pairs.” She laughs. “I’ll admit, I can see the appeal. Comfortable, warm, and cute.”
We chat for a few minutes before he takes a step back.
“Well, I’ve gotta run to the store, but I saw you down here and just had to say hi.” He shakes my hand again. “I hope you two had a good Christmas.” He winks at Stella, and then his eyes dart between ours. “It’s nice to see my cousin finally settling down.”
We look nervously at each other, both cringing.
“Oh, we’re not …” Stella says, but stops.
I don’t bother trying to explain anything. Instead, I just hold my hand up and wave goodbye to him, and once he turns and is walking away, I pull her in for a hug.
“Next stop?”
Smiling up at me, she nods shyly. “Next stop.”
Ican’t seem to get out of this funk I’m in, no matter what I do. I tossed and turned all night, but whenever I looked over at Ridge, he seemed to be doing the same thing.
Today is the day when I leave Maine in the past and head back to my life in New York, not even knowing if a job will be there waiting for me, but I can’t stay. I have responsibilities back home.
Besides, I’ve only known him for two weeks. It’s insane of me to even consider staying longer for a man I hardly know. I’m just lost in a … Maine Christmas bubble. Where everything is like a spicy Hallmark movie. Once I’m home, I’ll be pulled out of it, and I’ll remember how much I love where I live, and I’ll forget about Ridge. I’m sure of it.
It’s early. So early that the sun isn’t even up, and yet here I am, staring at the ceiling. I’m afraid to look over at him because if he’s awake, that means we probably need to have a conversation. And right now, I’m not sure what good talking would do. Deep down, we both know what this is. It’s a fling. And flings are meant to be uncomplicated and fun.
Unfortunately for me, Ridge must know that I’m lying here awake because when I feel the bed shift as he rolls to his side, I can sense his eyes on me.
“You know what I said about my favorite view of this place being from the water?” His voice isn’t groggy like it should be for a time when we should be asleep. Instead, he sounds wide awake. Then again, he’s used to getting up much earlier than this for work.
“Yeah, I remember.” I don’t roll onto my side to look at him. Instead, I keep my gaze upward. Looking into his eyes right now would break my heart.
We aren’t strangers anymore. I’ve told him things about my life that I’ve never said to anyone else—aside from a therapist I had for a short time.
“Since your flight isn’t till later … can I show you?” For a tough, rugged man, he speaks so softly right now, like he’s walking on eggshells because he doesn’t want to spook me. “If we hurry, we can catch the sunrise too.”
Every intimate moment I spend with this man is only going to make it harder to walk away from him. But my entire adult life, I’ve been so fixated on controlling situations after feeling like I had no control at all for so long. Right now, I don’t want to be anxious, thinking about the pain that’s to come. I just want to continue to feel. So, rolling onto my side, I reach up and brush my palm against the stubble on his face.
“I would love that,” I whisper.
And the look in his eyes only makes the pain radiate deeper through my chest. Because just like me, he’s dreading tonight. I can see it.
So many sounds flood my ears, but each one is peaceful and projects a sort of calmness that I’d never be able to explain to my coworkers in the city.
The dull rumble of the boat’s engine somehow seems like that of a lullaby. And the waves hitting against the sides of the boat, splashing softly as it cuts through the salty water, provide some sort of mystical, calming effect. Maybe some people would find the squawk of the seagulls off in the distance annoying, but as I take a deep breath of sea air, I feel a sense of home in a place that’s the furthest thing from it.
It’s dusk, and I stand beside Ridge as he keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on the space that looks sort of like a dashboard, but … on a boat. He’s showing me a piece of himself. A piece that makes up such a big part of who he is, and I see him so clearly right now. More than ever before.
This place is enough for him. He’s happy here, in Maine, doing what he loves. What a feeling that must be—to just know you’re exactly where you belong and have been your whole life. I envy that kind of feeling. I’ve never had that, and I also don’t know if I ever will.
“Wanna drive?” he asks, looking down at me. “We’ll steam to the lighthouse. That’s the best place to see the sunrise.”
“Oh … I don’t know,” I say, chewing my lip. I do want to drive his boat. I’ve never driven any boat—ever. And his is gorgeous, but it’s his livelihood. I don’t want to make a mistake and hurt it. “That’s okay. I don’t want to hurt your boat or anything.”
