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Beau grinned, watching as Kit tilted her head back—Cal’s head rose two inches higher than hers—and smiled.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cal,” she said softly. “I’m Kit.” A sheepish expression crossed her face. “I’m sorry about the way we first stumbled upon each other. I didn’t mean to startle you at the gate that day.”
“N-no.” Blushing, Cal shook his head . . . but his eyes remained glued to Kit’s face. “I mean, that’s no problem. No problem at all.”
And just like that, his boy was gone. Kit’s pretty eyes, gentle voice, and sweet smile had taken Cal in, stolen his attention, and enthralled him. Beau bit his lip as his grin widened. Man, he knew the feeling.
“I was wondering when you’d show.”
Beau shifted his attention from Cal as Kit’s gaze settled on him. “What do you mean?” He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s only seven thirty-eight, and we waited in the front yard for almost ten minutes. I assumed you’d be meeting us out there.”
“Sorry about that. I guess eight minutes doesn’t matter.” Kit shrugged, dropped her head back, and glanced up at the clear blue sky. “Not today, anyway. It’s a perfect morning for hitting the beds.” She leaned to the side, looked past him. “Is Viv coming?”
Beau leaned into her line of sight. “What do you think?”
She straightened, a small sigh escaping her. “I think she probably gave you a hard time the moment you told her you were coming, and probably didn’t let up until you were out of earshot.” She scoffed. “She probably threw around a few choice words about me, too.”
More than a few, Beau thought. He’d known the idea of his spending time with Kit wouldn’t sit well with Viv, but she was behaving as though it was an act of outright betrayal.
Kit glanced at Cal, stepped to the side, and swept her arm in the direction of the hybrid bay boat. “Well, no need for us to wait any longer. Please come aboard and we’ll head out.”
Cal thanked her, then followed Mackey onto the bay boat. Mackey’s voice grew louder and faster as he pointed out each seat on the boat and offered Cal first choice.
Beau glanced over his shoulder as he boarded, and noticed Royal standing on the back deck, a fresh stream of smoke drifting up above his head. Had Royal heard about his outburst at the community center? Had Kit told him the things he’d said? “Royal not coming?”
“What do you think?” Kit smirked.
“I’d say not.” Beau turned away from Royal’s steady perusal, his pride stinging a bit at Royal’s disapproval, and faced Kit. “It’s a bit early in the day to have a smoke, don’t you think?”
Kit’s lips twitched. “That’s difference number one.”
Beau frowned. “What is?”
“Smoking.” Kit boarded the boat, sat at the helm, and cranked the engine. “Teagues smoke whenever they feel like it, no matter the occasion, time of day, or company.”
* * *
Despite the warmth of the sun, a chill remained in the air, traveling on the swift breeze and slipping beneath the back of Beau’s shirt as Kit drove the boat far out along Hope Creek. They passed the empty dock behind his house. He swiveled in the passenger seat, watched it as it faded behind them, and wondered how Nate and Viv had fared with deliveries this morning. Knowing he and Cal would take Saturday off, Beau had done his best to get a head start on deliveries throughout the week, but he hadn’t made it much farther than usual. Same number of hands working the farm, same number of hours . . . His intentions didn’t make much difference. Not without extra muscle behind them.
“Leave it,” Kit said, her elbow nudging his.
He turned back around in his seat and glanced at her. She sat by his side, steering the boat, her long brown hair rippling in the wind. “Leave what?”
“All of it. Your business, your worries . . . There’s no place for them out here.” She inhaled deeply and released her breath slowly. “Just breathe and absorb.”
A slow smile crossed her face as the boat gained speed, lurching rhythmically over waves and curving around deep bends in the creek. Dense cordgrass parted ahead, and the shores of the creek widened out as they reached the mouth of a neighboring river. The boat slowed to a crawl as a large oyster bed came into view, and Kit cut the engine. Low tide had arrived, and the biggest beauties of shells Beau had ever seen stood proud in tiny towers amid pluff mud, their dingy mouths raised toward the sky, a thick line of cordgrass bending in the wind at their backs.
“That’s them over there,” Mackey shouted from the bench seat in the back. He jogged around Beau to the bow of the boat, grabbed a pair of gloves, and tugged them on. “First one’s mine. Cal, come on. And Beau, too.”
“Slow down,” Kit said, standing. “Let’s scope it out first.” She propped her hands on her hips and smiled. “And when you have guests, the polite thing to do is offer them first choice of whatever it is you’re doing. In this case, that would be harvesting the first oyster.”
Mackey’s exuberant smile fell. “Oh. But . . .” He patted his gloved hands together and stared longingly at the oyster bed. “I don’t want to.”
“I know.” Kit walked over to Mackey, smoothed his bangs back, and kissed his forehead. “But when you care about someone, it’s only right to be willing to sacrifice for them.”
Her voice weakened, and her gaze moved outward before focusing on the horizon.
“But I want the first oyster.” Mackey scowled up at her. “Can I still have the first one? Huh, Kit?”
