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I shook my head. “Well, then, Mr. Ramsey, can I take you out for a drink? Know any other bars around here?”
His smile widened. “Yeah. I think I know a place.”
“Good.” As much as I knew I should probably just go back and get some rest, I didn’t want this night to be over. Tomorrow, Beau would take me back to my cruise ship, and my time with him would be over.
I wasn’t ready for it to end.
11
BEAU
The bar on the other side of Sitka I chose to take Georgia to was the opposite of West Wharf. Though it didn’t have a live DJ, hip music played over the speakers. Lots of younger people were grouped inside around tables and the bar, drinking their alcoholic beverage of choice. The one thing that seemed the same to me, other than the drinks, was the décor. More pictures of fish, boats, and other seaside images hung along the walls.
Georgia walked in next to me and paused to take a look around. “Wow—it’s just like the other place,” she noted.
I stared at her a moment. “It is?”
She nodded. “Yep. I mean, a little louder, but the design is the same.”
Shrugging, I followed her to a little table near a stage where a lone microphone was standing. My stomach twisted as I thought back to what day it was and when they did karaoke here. Was that today? God, I hoped not. But then, Georgia wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to, right?
I decided I’d better have a beer just in case. Raising a couple of fingers, I signaled for the waitress, and she headed over. We both ordered beers, and people watched as we waited for our drinks.
“Dinner was so yummy, I’m not sure I have much room for beer,” Georgia said, folding her arms on the tabletop and smiling across at me.
I chuckled. “Well, then, why did you ask to go to a bar?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It sounded fun. It is fun. I guess I didn’t realize how stuffed I am.”
The waitress came over with our beers. We both thanked her and took a sip. Something between us seemed to have shifted just slightly. Over dinner, we’d had a great conversation, but now, there was some sort of tension.
Maybe, like me, Georgia was thinking about how tomorrow was the day she’d go back to the boat. I didn’t like to let that thought sit in the front of my mind. Even though we’d only spent a short amount of time together, we’d made some memories, the kind of stories a person should share with family down the line. But I couldn’t see it being worth it to mention to anyone that some woman I’d let stay at my house when she’d missed her cruise ship had been terrified of a bear outside her hotel room or kissed a fish before she tossed it back.
“What’s that look on your face about?” she asked me, raising an eyebrow. “You look like you thought of something funny but you don’t want to share.”
Did she know me so well already? “Oh, it’s nothing,” I told her, but she only raised her eyebrows higher. “I was just thinking of the stories we’ll be able to tell about the last few days in a couple of years.” I didn’t bother to point out that neither one of us would know the same people to tell those stories to or be able to tell them together.
That made her laugh, though, which had me chuckling, too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. “I mean, so I missed my boat, almost got eaten by a bear, then caught a huge fish and tossed it back. What’s so unusual about that?”
“Don’t forget the kiss,” I reminded her.
Georgia’s eyes widened, and her cheeks immediately flushed. “Kiss? What kiss?”
I felt my face warming, too. I hadn’t been very specific. “The fish,” I said. Immediately, she looked down, nodding, probably embarrassed that I would think she was thinking about a kiss that hadn’t happened—yet. Would it? I wasn’t sure, but I took another drink of my beer.
“Right, that kiss.” Finally lifting her gaze, Georgia shrugged. “I mean, he was a little cold and standoffish, so I probably won’t want to kiss him again.”
Despite her embarrassment a few seconds ago, she was suddenly bolder. “You need a response when you share a first kiss, huh?” How many beers had I had that I was willing to ask such a brave question?
She grinned at me, a crooked smile that winked with wickedness. “Doesn’t everyone?”
All I could do was smile back at her and take a sip of my beer. In the back of my mind, I heard the same voice I often heard whenever I was looking at a woman I found attractive, nudging me to back off. It was as if, subconsciously, I was still married. Thoughts of Kaylee made me hesitate to say more, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t attracted to Georgia. There were so many things about the woman that made me want to get to know her better. But tomorrow, she’d be getting on a ship and sailing away, back to Seattle, where there would be absolutely no chance for me to get to take her out for another day of fishing and fish kissing.
Behind us, the mic squealed as a couple of young girls climbed up onto the stage, carrying their drinks. “Let’s get this party started,” one of them said, slightly slurring her speech. “It’s karaoke night!” She lifted her glass into the air, and everyone cheered, including Georgia.
Everyone but me. Inwardly, I cringed. I’d never been one to put myself on display, and the last thing anyone needed to hear was my singing voice.
As the two girls began an offkey rendition of “Careless Whisper” that made my ears bleed, I took another long draw on my beer. Georgia was entranced, her mouth moving along with the alleged singers as she swayed to the music.
