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We didn’t go in the direction of Willow’s Heart, but I was getting used to his need for road trips. After having traveled an hour or two, then getting stuck in traffic, to visit his dad’s grave, then this, driving seemed to be something he enjoyed. I’d never noticed before, because neither of us had had cars. I’d always borrowed my roommate’s if we needed to go anywhere that was out of the way, so I’d never really seen how much he enjoyed being on the open road. A fact that was only confirmed if I took into consideration how he’d driven here from New York.
Back when we’d been together before, I’d kind of felt this nervous need to fill in the blank spaces with him. Now, more mature, I didn’t feel that same restlessness. It was nice just to be on the open road, some tunes playing as we drove to wherever he wanted to take me.
It was remarkably freeing to just put myself in his hands once more. He probably didn’t realize how huge a leap of faith it was. Or if he did, I felt certain he would protect that trusting side of my nature to shield it from further damage at his hands.
When he took a certain direction, I realized where we were going. At the turn off, he turned to me with a smile and I grinned back at him. “Baker’s Cove?”
He winked. “Baker’s Cove,” he confirmed.
I clapped my hands together in delighted surprise. “Jesus, I haven’t been back here in years.”
“You haven’t?” He sounded stunned by that prospect, and I guess I could understand why. He’d known how much I loved coming here. It had always inspired my art.
“No.”
He cut me a look, frowning a little before he fell silent as we drove down the craggy road that led to a small cove. Famous to the locals, and to the campus an hour’s drive away, it was home to many keg parties and the like. But through the day, it was quiet. Peaceful. Mostly because the water never seemed to heat up, and there were beaches a lot closer to hang out. Keg parties only came here because there was no one in the near vicinity to bitch about noise control.
Still, for all that, it was a beautiful place. Deserving of more usage from the locals than it received.
When he pulled up, the car touched the sand. That was always another advantage. No lugging of kegs from vehicles to the beach.
I could remember one party where they’d rolled the kegs down to the surf, then had realized that would shake up the beer inside too much—dumbasses.
After we came to a halt, he climbed out and though he had a tendency to open the door for me—a trait I thought was cute as hell—I got out too. Tilting my head back, I stared up at the sky and smiled. It was grim and gray, bleak and windy, but it was great to be here. Especially after the stuffiness of the institute I’d left ninety minutes before.
Shuddering with distaste at the memory, and truly unable to be pissed at Karen for being mad at me when her mother was in that goddawful place, I turned to him and had to laugh at the picnic box he had in his hand.
“This the secret?” I teased.
“The secret’s the sandwich fillings.”
I snorted. “You know how to keep a girl in suspense.”
He winked, tucked a blanket under one arm, a second under the other. The basket was more of a bucket, truth be told, and it was big. More like a workman’s bucket than a regular one for mopping.
It was also brimming with Tupperware boxes and parcels wrapped in clingfilm and Aluminum foil. I blinked at the sight of all the food. “Someone’s been busy.”
“Someone has a mom who has an in at Mama’s.”
I laughed, and as it spilled from me, a wondrous delight filled me in return. God, it was good to be with this man. It was good to laugh with him. It was good to breathe the same damn air as him.
“She never let on.”
“Ellen is far too smart for that,” he told her piously, then jerking his chin at the car, asked, “Could you close it, please? No hands.”
I did as bade and we turned together toward the beach that had been a source of inspiration after every visit. I don’t know why it was. It just was. There was something about the barrenness of it that called to me. We were surrounded by rocky walls at one side, but the rest was just white sand that was chilly to the touch. I wore boots so didn’t have to worry about sand getting between my toes but the minute we plunked ourselves down in the center of the beach, I knew I’d be taking them off. And even though the water was gray and looked cold as hell, I knew I’d be dipping my toes in.
“Here?” Coop asked after a few moments, motioning with the basket to the spot we were standing in.
We were alone at the cove. No other hardy souls were braving the grim winter day at the beach, and I was glad for that. Birds flew overhead, cawing and posturing as they fluttered around and above us. There was nothing but the ocean, a mile of sand, and the car to intrude upon our solitude.
I loved it. This couldn’t have been more perfect.
“Here,” I confirmed, grabbing one of the blankets from under his arm as he placed the bucket on the sand. Throwing it down, I grunted as the wind immediately curled back the corners so shoved myself onto it before it could fly away.
“It’s kind of cold for
this,” Coop admitted with a grimace. “I should probably have taken that into consideration.”
