This date was never meant for me. It always belonged to the two of you.
Sweetheart, live your life. Allow yourself to be happy.
Wyatt, give her that happiness.
Neither of you will be allowed back inside until the sun has gone down.
“If you don’t get going, you’re going to miss the boat!” Ruby’svoice drifts through the open window of the kitchen before it slams shut.
“Gran!” Bryn yells, changing her tactics from the door to the window. “Gran, get out here right now!”
Ruby stands in the window, shaking her head at her granddaughter. It’s comical, but I’m trying not to laugh at Bryn’s expense. When Ruby’s eyes meet mine, though, and her eyebrows lift expectantly, I sober. Right. This is up to me.
“B,” I start, taking the few steps that separate us. “Is my company so horrible that you don’t want to spend the day with me?”
“No!” she exclaims, whirling on me, eyes alight with a fire I wonder how often Ruby sees with all her mischief. When our eyes meet, hers soften, and she takes a breath. “No, of course not.”
“Ruby played us both.”
“That’s why I’m mad!” She gestures behind her at the window. A window which has once again cracked open. “She orchestrated this entire thing without either of us knowing.”
I nod. “Despicable woman, wanting us both to be happy.” Bryn glares at me. Trying not to chuckle and doing a piss-poor job at it, I take her hand. “We can spend the whole day coming up with ways to get back at her.”
That sparks curiosity in the beauty before me. Her spine straightens, shoulders pushing back, and she lifts an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.
Running my thumb over the back of her hand, I ask, “May I take you on this date?”
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, my eyes dropping to watch. The second they do, her breath hitches in her chest, causing a slow smile to creep along my lips. I love knowing I can elicit a reaction out of her.
“Okay.” The word comes out as breathy as I imagined itwould. “Yes. I’d love to go on a date with you.”
The declaration has my focus darting back to her eyes, reading the truth in the hazel depths. It sends my heart straight out of my chest, racing for the brilliant blue sky above to explode into a million colors.
Just like the fireworks we watched on our last date.
Chapter 41
Bryn
Wyattgrabsontomyforearm, pointing with his other hand. “Look! Look! What is that?”
“Oh my gosh,” I burst out, spotting what he’s seeing. Quickly, I twist on the bench seat we claimed in the back of the white boat, named “Starla”, to call to the captain at the wheel inside the small cabin, “We’ve got sea otters back here!”
I know he hears me when he shouts to the rest of the patrons on the boat, most of whom are riding up front. The tour isn’t busy at all, maybe twelve of us in total, which doesn’t surprise me for an October weekday; the tourists have left and school is back in session. It makes the experience more intimate when there isn’t a huge swarm of people running from stern to bow every time something is spotted.
There are two otters that went from playing with each other to swimming after us in our wake, following the boat like they’re chasing after the man enthralled with them. I don’t blame them. Wyatt has laid that excited look on me more than once in the time I’ve known him, and it never ceases to make me feel weak in the knees, even when I’ve told the feeling to screw off.
“Where’d they go?” he says, scooting forward on the bench when they disappear beneath the water. Like a little kid, he calls out, “Come back! Come back, little otters!”
It has me giggling, and rather than watch the calm water, Iwatch him, the look of anticipation he wears as his eyes scan over the dark blue, hoping with every fiber of his being that they’ll poke their little heads out again. But they don’t, and just as he’s settling back into his seat, a sea lion barks from somewhere on our right, causing Wyatt to sit straight up and twist away from me to look over the side of the boat.
“Was that a sea lion?” he asks, his excitement kicking back up. “That was definitely a sea lion.”
As if he’s been heard, there’s another bark, followed by another a distance away, this one sounding more like a scream than anything. Wyatt spins back to me, eyes wide, face lit like he’s won some kind of jackpot, then he turns back towards the water. This time, I look out over the dark blue as well, tucking a leg up under myself so I can see over him. A head peeks out of the water, and I point at it over Wyatt’s shoulder, the gasp he lets out making me laugh.
“Definitely a sea lion,” I confirm, leaning forward to ensure he can hear me.
At the same time, he leans back, and suddenly we’re chest to back, my face practically next to his. Before I can put any distance between us, though, he grabs my arm, still over his shoulder and pointing, and pulls it down over his chest.
