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I laugh softly because whatever it was she did that went viral likely had a humorous element. I can’t imagine this woman having a mean bone in her body. “Also, I didn’t finish what I was saying. You recognized that we shared something special that night and that I bailed—emotionally.”
“Funny that we both ended up here.”
“Funny or fate?”
“Depends on what you believe.”
“In God. He knows us, loves us, and has a plan for our lives. Everyone’s. It’s just a matter of whether you let Him in. Allow Him to take the wheel.”
“Is it that simple?”
She nods. “And that difficult.”
Seems like she knows a thing or two about that. Me too.
“But what I wanted to say was you captured everyone’s attention when you walked down the aisle.” I gaze at my hands, wanting madly to put them on her. “But most especially mine. You looked beautiful, Lally McGuiness, and it’s been awfully hard to stop thinking about you.”
With a little smile twirling on her lips, she says, “In that case, Magnus McGregor, you owe me a dance.”
What would happen if I gave her more than that?
I’m also wondering how she saw me so clearly. Has she been hurt before? The thought cripples me for one second, but then fuels my desire to make sure that never happens again, least of all by me.
While she gets the key to the Junks, I remain on the threshold. I can no longer worry about my role in the military putting me in harm’s way and resulting in loss of life, hurting my sweetheart, my bride, my beloved, my Lally.
So, what’s stopping me?
Lally
CHAPTER 11
Even though I sweep and vacuum daily, there’s no escaping the sand and dog hair on the beach bungalow’s wooden floors. However, right now, I don’t feel any grit under my feet. It’s as if I’m floating.
Lost in the look in Magnus’s eyes.
The quirk of his lips.
The words he spoke.
I remain in the clouds until I realize that the dogs and I are standing with him in front of the cottages. There are eight, each a perfect square with two windows and a rectangular porch. But that’s about all that makes them resemble structures that humans might occupy. They’ve seen more storms than seems fair. Not given enough love or repairs. Abandoned, alone.
When I pass Magnus the key, I drop it into his palm, afraid one of us might get shocked if we touch. Both of us carry an electrical current that was subtly acknowledged while on the safety of my porch, but now we’re out in the open and surrounded by water. There’s no telling what might happen.
“I’m surprised your grandfather locked these shacks up. No one locks their doors on Coco Key.”
“They should.”
Yet some residents keep their hearts locked up.
“I’ve never been over here,” I say, keeping a safe distance.
“That’s smart.”
I’m not sure if he refers to the structures or himself.
Magnus steps carefully onto the wooden deck of the first cottage. Boo sniffs around, ears sharp.
It’s not accurate to say they have peeling paint. It’s stripped right off. Windows are broken or only partially closed. A gauzy curtain covers half of one like a trapped ghost.
