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That, and the fact that I wanted what she’d said to be true, so I held on to her words and prayed that Tony would come back.
TAKING WHAT HE GIVES ME
AVA
Twenty-four more hours had passed, and there was still no sign of Tony. He hadn’t shown up at the dock again this morning, and all the hope I’d had yesterday was slowly blowing away with the breeze. The longer this avoidance went on, the less likely it felt like we could recover from it. Or that Tony would even want to.
Sometimes, it was easier to stay away.
I knew that feeling all too well. It was exactly what I had done when it came to my divorce—packed my things, moved back home, and never planned on talking to or seeing Liam ever again. We didn’t have kids to fight over, so pretending like he didn’t exist seemed like an achievable goal. Until I’d remembered that his parents still lived in Port Rufton and he’d most likely have to come back here at some point, but I’d figured he could still do that without seeing me. Apparently, that was too much to ask of him.
Shaking all thoughts of Liam from my head, I sorted my purchases from this morning, grabbing ice from the freezer and placing the fish on it. Once the fresh catch was back to being cooled, I went to work on creating our special herb and spice blend for the lobster rolls. We’d been selling more than usual this past week, and instead of wondering where the sudden influx of customers had come from, I did the math in my head and doubled the recipe.
A quick knock on the wood didn’t stop me from mixing as I shouted, “It’s open,” at whoever was there.
A throat cleared.
It was raspy and caught on itself. My body shivered in response. Two rough steps against the groaning wood stairs alerted me that Tony was now inside the kitchen, watching me. I couldfeelhim.
“Ava.”
His gruff voice met my ears, and I wondered for a moment if he was okay. He didn’t sound like it, and my heart sank.
I turned around slowly, my eyes catching his and holding. His facial hair was longer and a bit unruly. His dark eyes bore circles that most might not have noticed, but I did. He looked so damn tired, and it took everything in me to not comfort him.
What is it about this man that makes me want to take care of him?
I stayed rooted in place, forcing myself not to move, even though my brain screamed at my legs to close the distance between us. He ran both hands down the length of his face, like he was working up the nerve to say whatever he had come here to say.
Oh no, what if he says he’s leaving and he came here to tell me good-bye?
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take hearing it. I’d pretend I was fine, for his sake, but the disappointment would cover my heart like a cloak.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “For the way I acted the other night.” He swallowed hard and sucked in a long breath. “I’d like to make it up to you.”
All the tension in my shoulders instantly faded away. “You would?”
Two more steps forward. “If you’ll let me.”
My heart started racing. He wasn’t here to tell me he was leaving.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, hoping to ease his discomfort because he sounded more than a little unnerved.
A half-smile appeared as he stepped even closer to my body, not stopping until we were toe to toe. I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. Even in his unkempt state, he still looked downright delicious. It really wasn’t fair.
His rough hand cupped my cheek, and I leaned into it, closing my eyes for only a second. It was just enough time. When I reopened them, his lips were moving closer, and I parted my mouth in response. I still wanted this man, and I had no plans to deny him.
He kissed me softly, but with purpose. It was an apology and an unspoken promise, all in one. Tony wanted to try, but he wasn’t sure how.
When he pulled away, his hand still held me, his eyes staring into mine, asking if I was okay without saying the words. “What time will you be done tonight?”
“I’ll probably be done by eleven. Ten at the earliest.”
“And tomorrow, you close at four?” he asked, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinning at the fact that he knew the restaurant’s hours.
During tourist season, it seemed like a bad business decision to close the doors at all, but after my dad had passed, I’d soon realized I needed a day off. Or at least half a day. On Mondays, the restaurant closed at four. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. And even though I knew we could stay open until two a.m., I chose not to. It was just too much work for everyone, and there were other bars in town that people could patronize.
“Uh-huh.”
