AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I couldn’t deny that I’d had a nice time with him last night, but I couldn’t stop thinking that our new relationship was headed nowhere fast.
All because of a boat.
I waved him over to me, then held a finger to my lips and jerked my head several times toward the drama unfolding at the cash register.
Donovan’s eyes widened knowingly and he oh so casually tiptoed around Titus and stepped up behind me, as if suddenly having a deep interest in purchasing a bag of coffee his brother produced.
Rose was now looking at Titus like she’d never seenhimbefore. Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted her chin. The haughty tone was back in her voice as she said, “Most men trying to butter me up bring me roses.”
“I would hope you’d know by now that I’m not like most men.” He picked up his cup and gave her a slow nod, never taking his gaze from her face. He didn’t evenblink. “You have a good day now, Rose.”
With that, he turned. Donovan and I suddenly looked up, down, all around, as Titus’s attention fell on us. He gave us a nod, too. “See y’all tomorrow.”
With that, he walked out.
As soon as the door closed behind him, I fanned myself and let out a“Whoo-ee.”
Rose blinked as if just now realizing there were other people in the shop. “Oh, hush now,” she said sharply. “Not a word. Not a single word.”
I made the motion of zipping my lips, but I was certain my eyes were flashing my delight as brightly as a lighthouse lantern.
She turned and marched to the restroom, her hands pressed to her cheeks.
I took the boxes from Donovan. “I’m glad you were late so you could witness that. I’m not sure anyone would believe me otherwise.”
“Rose will skin you alive if you tell another soul what just happened.”
It was true—she would. But it might be worth it, because I was fit to bust with happiness for her.
As I set the boxes on the counter, I saw Estrelle walk past the front window. Through the black netting of her hat, she looked our way, lifted her eyebrows, waggled them, and kept going in the direction of her shop.
I frowned at her reaction, hoping she hadn’t gotten her hopes up too high where Donovan and I were concerned because I wasn’t at all sure it was going to work out between us.
“Listen, I need to run,” Donovan said, “but can I interest you in dinner tonight? Maybe a real restaurant? We can go over to Gulf Shores or up to Magnolia Springs if you want privacy.”
“Sorry,” I said. “There’s a park commission meeting tonight.”
“Tomorrow?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m working at the Driftwood Museum fundraiser.”
“Friday, then.”
I bit my lip. “Euchre club.”
“Maggie. Is this about the boat? Because I told you—”
“Of course not.” The dejection in his tone nearly did me in. Because itwasabout the boat.
The boat was all I could think about. Even last night, while we talked about most everything else under the sun, I was thinking about the dang boat.
It was on my mind when I told him about what was going on with Dad. When I’d shared all my best coffee shop stories. While he told me stories of people he met during his career. When I talked of Noah.
The boat sat between us like an elephant in the room as we chatted about his family, his reluctant return to the bakery, Butterfly Fest, the questionable beach mouse population, my father’s hoarding issues, Ava’s strange letter, the way the moonlight looked on the water, and how the mosquito, not the northern flicker, should be the state bird.
The boat, the boat, the stupid boat.
Even when he walked me home and stood on the front porchtalking about how everyone on the street was probably peeking at us from behind their curtains, I was thinking about Donovan being on the open water. Of him falling in. Of him disappearing.
