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“Grab on, big boy.”
Cal laughed.
“Mackey, when I count to three, I want you and Cal to grab Beau’s other hand and pull as hard and for as long as you can, okay?” she asked.
Mackey nodded, all business. “Yeah. I’ll do it. Then can I eat the first oyster?”
“Yep,” Kit said, nudging her fingers closer to Beau’s face. “You gotta do your part, too, you know? Can’t just lie there like a slug and expect us to do all the work.”
Despite his awkward position, Beau laughed as he wrapped his hand tightly around Kit’s, unable to resist running his gaze over her from head to toe. Man, even while he was sloshing around in tons of sticky mud, she made his blood rush.
She smirked, a teasing light in her eyes, as she leaned closer, and then she whispered, “And stop looking at me like that, or I’ll shove your head under.”
He laughed harder. “Then stop teasing me. The more I laugh, the more I sink.”
“All right, guys,” Kit shouted, tightening her grip. “One, two . . . three!”
Kit, Cal, and Mackey heaved all at the same time, but Beau, sinking faster now, didn’t budge. And on top of it all, their feet began to sink, too.
“Hold up,” Beau said, the first frisson of real concern stealing up his spine. He tipped his chin at Cal and Mackey. “We keep this up and y’all are gonna get stuck, too. You two let go and let me and Kit give it a shot on our own.”
“No way, Dad.” Cal smiled. “She can’t pull you out on her own.”
Kit made a face at Cal. “Are you trying to say I’m not strong enough to—”
“Oh, no, ma’am.” Cal’s cheeks flushed. “I just meant that . . . well . . .”
Kit laughed. “I know what you meant.” She glanced at Beau. “And Cal has a point. It’s going to take all of us to pull you out. It’s just going to take one more good yank.” She renewed her grip on his hand, prompting Cal and Mackey to do the same, then counted off again. “One, two, three!”
Beau slid out slowly at first, his butt, thighs, then knees emerging. Finally, the mud’s vicious suck fell away, propelling him forward into all three of them.
They toppled over together and collapsed in a heap amid the sludgy mud. Kit shook with laughter beneath him, while Cal and Mackey, giggling, shoved at his chest.
Beau stayed right where he was, catching his breath and savoring the moment. Sticky grime clung to him from head to toe, he probably stank to high heaven, and he was half-afraid he’d find mud later in places he wouldn’t welcome it . . . but so far, this had already been the best trip to the creek he’d ever had.
“Get off, Dad,” Cal choked out through tears of laughter, shoving hard.
Mackey wriggled out from the pile and headed back to the oyster bed. Cal scrambled to his feet, grabbed his oyster hammer from the casting deck, then joined Mackey.
Beau took his time rising to his knees, his gaze roving over Kit as she lay flat on her back in the mud and laughed with unbridled joy. Mud had splashed across her chin, and her hair, now wet, clung to her neck in muddy gobs. He’d never seen a woman look more beautiful in his life . . . not even Evelyn.
The thought shocked him, guilt sweeping through him. But it occurred to him then that what precious time he’d been blessed to have with Evelyn had passed, and he found himself accepting that fact fully for the first time, longing for something different. Something more.
“That’s another difference,” he said softly, wiping the mud from Kit’s chin and wishing she’d open her heart and unburden herself of the sadness he’d glimpsed in her eyes earlier. Share her regrets, her fears, her wishes . . . and dreams with him.
Kit opened her eyes, and her laughter faded as she met his eyes. “What is?”
“Suttons aren’t afraid to ask for help when they need it.”
* * *
Kit had discovered very early in her life that an oyster harvest and roast were more fun when shared with family and friends, but in reality, Beau Sutton had never been either in her life, which made the five hours of fun she’d had on the water, harvesting oysters with him, even harder to explain.
As they’d harvested oysters, culling them in place, she’d let herself enjoy Beau’s company, and despite the differences they continued to discover in each other, she’d grown more attracted to him than ever. She’d also found herself laughing and smiling throughout the day spent on the water, in her mother’s favorite spot . . . something she hadn’t expected to do again so soon. That had left her feeling a little guilty.
“Let’s shine them up really nice.” Beau, a pressure washer hose in one hand, stood by Mackey in the backyard of Teague Cottage, aiming the high-pressure stream of water at a large pile of wild oysters that were spread over a flat slab of concrete. “Especially yours,” he added, focusing the stream on one large oyster resting on the outskirts of the group, “seeing as how it was the first catch of the day.”
Mackey grinned. “It was the best of the day, right?”
