I didn’t invite uncertainty into that.
I didn’t invite men who made my chest ache or silence feel like something shared instead of endured.
I glanced at the way Tristan’s brow furrowed slightly when he concentrated, the ease of him in motion and felt the pull again.
This wasn’t reckless.
It just wasn’t safe.
And for the first time in years, I didn’t know which mattered more.
* * *
Marine Drive felt improvised, as if someone had scattered homes and cafés along the shoreline and decided it worked.It was quaint in a way that suggested love stories had already happened there and might happen again.Bakeries and bungalows leaned into each other like old friends with the slow glitter of the sea dancing before them.White Rock was postcard perfection.
“Is that the ocean?”It stretched along the road as far as the eye can see.
“Sure is.In fact, the United States is a stone’s throw away.”He pointed south, and I half expected to see an American flag waving in the distance.
I glanced down the street, as we were midway up on the hilly drive, and took in the retail ahead of us while spying residences in the side mirror.The whole street was movie magical and had the best ocean view.A person could retire here and be perfectly content.
We took a quick right-hand turn, and Tristan raced into an open stall as if his life depended on it.
“I had to sacrifice the dolly back in Merritt, and I didn’t want to walk miles upon miles to drop off the last three cases.”
“I think you could break a few laws and park with your four ways on.It’s the universal sign for ‘I’ll be just a minute’.”
“No, thanks.I’d rather not pull anything illegal.I like to stay out of jail.”
“Surely, they wouldn’t throw you in jail for that.”
“And we’ll never know, will we?”A knee-melting wink I hadn’t expected hit me hard.
The trunk popped open, displaying the last three crates of the coveted first batch of the season.
As I tried to confirm which of the awning-covered stores we’d be headed to, a busty woman came barreling out of the store across the street, barely giving the road a second glance.
“Tristan Graham!”She crossed the street before we’d fully stopped, landing on our side of the car and pulling Tristan into a hug that lingered half a second longer than professional.“Finally.I was starting to think you’d forgotten us.”
“I texted car trouble,” Tristan said, popping the trunk.
“I know, I know.”She waved a hand, already inspecting him.“But still.I worried.”
He lifted out the first crate.“All sorted.Picked up a sportster in Merritt, much smoother drive after that.”
“Well, good.”She exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders.“Tommy’ll be happy to hear you made it safe and sound.You got time for lunch?”
Tristan shook his head.“No, ma’am.Need to be on the ferry before five if I’m going to make it home in plenty of time to check the fields.”
She clicked her tongue.“Always the responsible one.”Smiling, she turned to me, eyes sharp and kind all at once.Without warning, she leaned in and hugged me.“I’m Caterina.Rina, if you like.”
“I’m Anna,” I said slightly startled.“An old high school friend of Tristan’s.He offered to take me out to the island as I’m meeting a friend there.”Not sure why I was using the original planned story and mixing it up with highlights from the past twenty-four hours.
“Well, Anna-old-high-school-friend of Tristan’s, any friend of Tristan’s is now part of the family.Welcome.”She stepped into the street without hesitation, checking both directions, positioning herself like she owned the crossing while Tristan stacked the crates on the curb.
Without thinking, I picked up the last crate with a little grunt as it was heavier than I expected.
“Careful,” Caterina said.Not alarmed.Just attentive.
