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Kit nodded. “Cal and Mackey are still hosing down the work deck. They should be finished soon.”
“Good.” Smiling, he tapped the table in front of him. “Set those down and let’s rinse, ice, and pack a few bags. I called Vernon last night, told him I’d be shrimping today, and he said he’d take an order so long as I have them to him today.”
Nate and Beau, who’d preceded Kit and Viv into the fish house with buckets of shrimp, set their buckets on the floor beside the table.
“Thank you for having us on your boat, Royal,” Nate said, holding out his hand. A pleased expression crossed his face. “Been a while since I’ve been shrimping—years, actually—and I enjoyed it.”
Royal shook his hand, then rubbed his chin, studying the buckets of shrimp at his feet. “Only half this haul is headed to Vernon’s.” He glanced out the window. “And them clouds have cleared out. Ain’t nothing better than fresh Frogmore stew by the creek. I’ll set it up if you’d like to join us?”
Nate glanced over his shoulder at Beau, who’d walked to the storage cabinet to admire Royal’s craftmanship. “What you think, son? Cal and I can tie up a few loose ends at the farm and come back in a couple of hours.” He leaned to the side and looked out the window toward the docked boat, where Cal and Mackey stood, laughing, on the work deck. “Mackey’s asked several times today when he could visit the farm again. I’d be happy to have him come along with me and Cal to help us out, if that sits well with you?”
Royal glanced at the boys through the window, his brow creasing. “Mackey ain’t gone off much on his own without me, but—”
“Mackey will be fine,” Kit said, setting her bucket down. “He’d jump at the chance to go and”—she smiled at Beau—“Cal’s been a great friend to him.”
He’d been more than that, really. He’d been patient, kind, and compassionate. Cal was very much like his father.
Beau looked up from the storage cabinet and met her eyes. His windswept hair and crooked grin of appreciation as he studied her face made her breath catch.
“Besides,” Kit said, turning back to Royal, “Mackey let me know in no uncertain terms that he’s capable of taking care of himself, and he would give you a very hard time if you told him no.”
Royal considered this, a wry smile curving his lips. “You’re right about that. I suppose it’s all right if he goes, and I thank you for inviting him.” His smile slipped. “We haven’t had many guests over the years, so the past couple of days have been a real treat.” He waved a hand in the air, his smile returning, then grabbed a bucket of shrimp and dumped it on the table. “I’ll get to icing and bagging, and after I make the delivery, I’ll the get the stew going.”
“I’ll help you.” Viv eased past Kit and set her bucket of shrimp by the table. “Do you have fresh potatoes and corn in the house, or do you need me to go pick some up?”
Royal, surprise in his eyes, remained silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on Viv’s small smile. “I’d love that,” he said softly. “And yeah, there’s plenty of potatoes and corn in the kitchen. Sausage in the fridge, too. I’ll devein us some shrimp after I finish bagging Vernon’s order.”
“And I’ll help you out there,” Kit said, “by making the delivery for you.” She smiled at Viv, a bittersweet ache moving through her. “That way you and Viv can build the fire and start cooking without having to rush.”
“I’ll go with you,” Beau said, his warm gaze settling on Kit.
Royal dumped another bucket of shrimp on the table. “Then it’s settled. Viv and I will ice and bag, and then you and Kit can take my truck and make the delivery. By the time all of you make it back,” he said, grinning, “there’ll be a feast fit for royalty waiting on you.”
* * *
“By the time we make it back, huh?” Beau, seated in the passenger’s seat of Royal’s truck, flashed that adorable—and aggravating—crooked grin. “You sure we’ll be able to make it back?”
Kit hunched farther over the steering wheel, turned the key in the ignition for the third time, and listened to the engine sputter and cough, willing it to start. “Maybe,” she muttered, trying a fourth time.
The engine rumbled to life . . . thank goodness.
“Hallelujah!” Laughing, Kit shifted gears and backed slowly out of the driveway of Teague Cottage onto the dirt road. “Long as it gets us to Vernon’s before the ice melts and the shrimp spoils, we’ll be good to go. We can walk back if we have to.”
“A walk in the moonlight, just you and me?” Beau winked. “If the truck doesn’t break down, that might be enough incentive for me to tamper with the engine.”
Kit stifled a smile and focused on the dirt road curving in front of them as she eased the truck toward Vernon’s Raw Oyster Bar a few miles away. “I see the frisk is back in your tail.”
Beau raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“I’m referring to earlier this week.” She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “I mean, you passed the house a few times, saw me, and didn’t stop—not that you had to. Or that I expected you to or anything.” Great. Just great. She was rambling again. She readjusted her grip on the wheel. “You just seemed a bit cool, is all. Like you were taking a step back maybe?”
He didn’t answer. Not at first. Instead, his long legs shifted restlessly, and he looked ahead, too, his blue eyes roving over the gradually descending twilight. Shades of pink and lavender glowed low on the horizon, filtering between the long branches of live oaks, and cast a rosy hue over his ruggedly handsome features.
“I did,” he said quietly. “For a second. Then I changed my mind.”
Kit frowned, mulling it over. “What made you change your mind?”
He moved at her side, and the weight of his direct gaze warmed her skin even more. “You.”
