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11
Will strummed his guitar, waiting patiently on Saturday morning for Elizabeth to arrive at his house, and thought back to the previous evening. They’d walked to Main Street and had dinner, and as they watched a local band play in the park near the library, he’d taken her hand and asked her to dance.
It was so unlike him, so unlike the person who valued his privacy above everything… And as they danced, it struck him that he was slowly relinquishing ownership of his heart. Bit by bit, she was taking it from him. But even then, he’d recognized that she wasn’t taking it; he wasgivingit to her, and it made him happier than he’d ever been. But it was nerve-racking too; he would be lying to himself if he said it wasn’t a huge leap to let his heart rule his actions, after keeping it in check for so long.
They’d talked as they walked back to her house, and she was shocked to learn that in all his years on the Cape, he’d only stuck to the main roads and had never truly explored. She went on about all the quaint, eclectic shops and restaurants, the farms and the coastal villages that dotted the backroads, so they made plans for a road trip today, and he was looking forward to discovering everything with her as his guide.
He suddenly felt a pinch on his bottom and jumped. The amplifier let out a discordant squeal, and he spun to face the object of his thoughts.
“Are you trying kill me?” he teased.
“Just making sure you’re awake.”
He kissed her once, then again…and then again. “If I wasn’t, I certainly am now.”
He set his guitar in its stand and turned off the amplifier, then watched as she checked out his office, hands clasped behind her back. His eyes traveled over her, taking in her small smile and bright eyes. She examined the spines of the books on his bookshelves, and then stopped at his desk and perused the framed pictures he kept there. One in particular arrested her attention.
“I thought you got rid of this,” she said, and picked up the picture she’d taken of him and Georgiana on the jetty.
He tilted his head. “Why would I do that?”
“I don't know. I guess I just assumed you would have.”
“Do you know what they say about people who assume, Miss Bennet?” He laughed when she rolled her eyes, and then grew serious. “I couldn't throw them out. They’re beautiful. I had them in a drawer for a while, and I framed this one the day after our first date. Georgie has one too. She loves it.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. I would have, if I’d known you thought I tossed them.”
“I'm glad you kept them. I think they came out nicely.”
He kissed her lightly. “Of course they did, because you took them.”
“Ha! If only it were that easy. Are you ready to go?”
They’d decided to take her Jeep and removed the top, taking advantage of the beautiful day. He drove, happy to let her navigate, and they toured the larger towns and smaller villages clustered along the Old King’s Highway, exploring bookstores, antique shops, and even a pirate museum.
As he drove them toward their next destination—lunch—she turned off the radio and faced him.
“I wanted to talk to you about something. I’m not sure if Georgie said anything to you, but when I was with her on Thursday night, she told me about what happened back in January.”
His stomach rolled, and he swallowed thickly. “Okay.”
“She said it was all right for me to talk about it with you. Actually, I think shewantedme to talk about it. She's concerned about you.”
“She shouldn’t be. I'm fine.”
“She doesn't think you are. She's worried you feel—”
“She has no idea how I feel.”
“Okay, well, that’s kind of why I brought it up. Maybe it would help if you talked about it.”
“It won't. Drop it.”
He was flustered and stared straight ahead, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. He didn’t want to talk about what happened to Georgianaat all, and they drove along in silence until he finally told her he had no idea where they were going.
“There's a place up ahead where we can pull off.”
