AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His gaze locked on hers, and she immediately wished they were alone back in her room at the inn, but they’d already discussed their plan of not leaving the bedroom once Marissa left for camp the next day.
So for now, Sarah shifted her focus to her. “Are you excited about camp?”
Marissa shrugged. “Not really, but it’ll be nice to see old friends.” She toyed with the edge of her napkin; there was definitely something on her mind.
“Is there anything we still need to buy?” Wes asked her.
She shook her head. “I think I have everything.”
“We should probably pack tonight,” he said.
Marissa nodded. “Sounds good.”
Wes glanced at Sarah, and she returned his concerned look. Marissa was obviously wanting to say something, and it was a rare occurrence for the little girl not to speak her mind. Sarah’s palms sweat a little. Was she concerned about the two of them together? She’d wanted it to happen before, but maybe now she was conflicted?
Wes leaned toward her. “Hey, everything okay?” He paused. “Is this…the three of us having dinner together okay?”
Marissa’s eyes widened as she nodded emphatically. “Yes! Definitely. About freaking time,” she muttered and Sarah relaxed. “I just wanted to ask…Friday is parents’ day at camp…” She turned toward Sarah. “Do you think you could come?”
Sarah’s eyes widened, and she looked at Wes. Marissa wanted her to attend parents’ day at camp. She’d love to go and support Marissa, but she didn’t want Wes to think she was getting ahead of herself with regards to their relationship. They’d only spent one incredible night together…
“I think it’s a great idea. If you’re free,” he said, his gaze filled with all the love and affection she’d always dreamed about. He squeezed her hand across the table and looked almost as nervous waiting for her answer as Marissa did.
He wanted her to go. Marissa wanted her to go. Her heart felt like it might explode out of her chest as she nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-one
A blast of wind whipped Sarah’s hair in front of her face as she walked along the nearly empty boardwalk toward the blown-glass hut the next day. What a difference from two weeks before, when locals and tourists had filled the air with sounds of summer. But the current rain and windstorm had tourists staying indoors.
That upcoming long weekend would be the official shutdown for the season.
On the ocean, the fierce waves appealed to only the most hardcore surfers, and even they looked to be calling it a day as the yellow caution flag was replaced with a red warning on the lifeguard tower down the beach. All the market huts had dragged their outside tables inside, and the dark-gray clouds made it feel as though it were evening despite it only being a little past noon.
Since reading the latest journal entry, she’d been putting off picking up the decorations she’d ordered. It was odd knowing that this man had meant so much to her grandmother and not feeling as though she could bring it up or ask him about it. It was none of her business, but she was dying to know why he’d treated Dove that way. Walked away from her and the love they’d once shared. Yet she hadn’t been able to read further.
Reaching the shop, she struggled against the wind to open the heavy door and hurried inside, shaking her wet hair away from her face. The forecast had predicted the storm, but she’d expected to be back at the B&B before it hit.
Either way, she’d needed to pick up her order. She didn’t want Mr. Harrison to think she no longer wanted it.
“Hello?” she called as she walked toward the back of the shop. “Mr. Harrison?”
“Be right with you,” she heard the older man say, followed by the sound of terrible coughing.
She waited, but the coughing continued. Deep, throat-tearing noises that sounded really unhealthy.
Finally, he emerged, with a white napkin, wiping his mouth. His eyes were watery and slightly bloodshot. Somehow, he looked older than he had before. “Oh, hi, Sarah…”
He looked surprised to see her. “Hi, Mr. Harrison. You okay?”
He waved a hand, tucking the napkin into his pocket. “Fine. Just a little lung cancer is all.”
Her mouth dropped. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were sick.”
“Not sick. Dying. Finally,” he said with a grin.
“I’m so sorry to hear that…” Despite his casualness, her knees felt slightly wobbly as she gripped the edge of the counter. He was sick. He was dying.
“Sweet girl, when you get to be my age, it’s almost a relief to know your days are numbered. I’ve lived through wars, depressions, technology changes, and teenagers wearing their jeans around their knees. I was starting to think nothing could take me out.”
