Meet Me in Tahiti

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Finn didn’t know how many more nights he could sit out here at midnight, waiting for Zoe.

OK, that was a lie. He knew. He’d do it for the next hundred years if there was a chance.

And he knew there was a chance because Lily had made some mysterious reference about Mr. Michaels’s boat to her mother, and her mother...well, hello, Mrs. Whittaker, who could sniff out a story from the ether let alone a human being she was pumping for information.

So here he was, six weeks after he’d told Zoe he wasn’t waiting for her, waiting for her.

He had the Australian South Seas pearl, in luminous white, on a platinum chain in his pocket, because Zoe didn’t wear rings but he had to give her something. He’d already bought a wedding band for himself because he was going to wear one this time around; he loved the look of it on his finger and was looking forward to it being a permanent fixture. He’d wear a manacle around his ankle if he had to, to let everyone know he belonged to her.

He’d done all of his penances. He’d visited his mother’s grave and cried like a baby and explained why he hadn’t been back. He’d had a just between us Zoe doesn’t need to know coffee with Noel and Selena Tayler in full view of Mrs. Whittaker. He’d said hello to Brad Ellersley, despite still wanting to beat the guy to a pulp. He’d even tried to see Henry Hawkesbury to apologize for almost bashing his head in, only to discover Henry hadn’t been seen since Blake’s funeral.

And that had spurred him to do the scariest thing on his list: going to see Lily Atwell. But he’d said he would become besties with Zoe’s girlfriends and dammit he was making a start on the rest of his life so he was determined to do it.

No pressure, he’d thought, as he entered The Sea Rose.

No pressure, as he’d told the waitress what he wanted to eat.

No pressure, as thoughts of Zoe laughing over poisson cru in the Poerava kitchen tortured him so much he couldn’t taste the meal.

No pressure as he’d asked to speak to the chef, even though he was experiencing a sensation he imagined was similar to rats gnawing at his insides.

And then Lily had emerged from the kitchen.

She’d checked at the kitchen threshold, her eyes widening, looked behind her as though about to flee whence she’d come.

And he’d thought, OK this is pressure. Was he going to have to chase her into the kitchen?

But no. One moment, that was all it took for her to contain whatever apprehension she was feeling and walk calmly, steadily to the table.

“Wine?” he’d asked as she sat.

“It’s closing time so yes please,” she’d said, cool as a cucumber.

He’d swallowed. “I hear Henry’s back. Or he was back, anyway.”

“How—”

“Mrs. Whittaker.”

“Oh.”

“Is he going to pose a problem? For the wedding? For...for anyone attending the wedding?”

“Anyone as in...”

“Zoe,” he said, then shook his head. “No, not just Zoe, is he going to pose a problem for any of you. Because if you need me to sort him out I’ll do it. I’ve wanted to tear his head off for ten years.”

“Not necessary,” Lily said, “I can handle him.”

“Zoe would let me tear his h—” He stopped, laughed, “OK, that’s a lie, I just wish she’d let me.”

“You know Zoe very well, don’t you?” Lily had probed gently.

“I know her like I know my own soul.”

“Oh! Oh...my,” Lily had said, and picked up her wine and sipped, sipped again.

“I’m not mucking around here, Lily.”

“I can see that.”

“She told me about Gravity.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is.”

“The movie. The drifting thing. That she won’t find a way back.”

“Ah!” Lily had said, and looked at him, eyes searching. And then she smiled: she’d found what she was looking for, apparently. “I do know what that means. She might talk about the movie but it’s real gravity, actual gravity, that’s important to her. Drifting away from...from herself, from who she is. She needs something to anchor her to a world she’s a little too fragile, a little too perfect, for. Something, someone...imperfect, perhaps?”

“Imperfect,” he’d repeated, and then he’d smiled. “I think I love you, Lily Atwell.”

She’d reached across the table and took his hand. “You’ll do, Finn Doherty.”

Had Lily told Zoe she’d talked to him? He couldn’t know but somehow he didn’t think so. She had depth, Lily. Hidden depth. But he wouldn’t have minded if Lily had spilled the beans. He wanted Zoe to know he was waiting for her. He’d been pretty sure her parents would report back to her on the coffee meeting. He’d dropped enough information about the house all over the village expecting the gossip to get back to Zoe so she knew he hadn’t meant it when he said he wouldn’t wait. That he’d bought their house, that he’d called it Merrow’s Rest, that the beach was going to be called Mermaid’s Kiss. Surely she’d know those names were for her? She’d have to know he’d lied about not waiting. He’d outright told her he lied when the stakes were high enough and there was no stake, none, higher than her.

Time check: 11:55 p.m.

Finn sighed as he got to his feet, slapping the sand from the seat of his jeans. One more night gone.

He turned to go back to the house, then heard a slight swash. Different to the waves breaking on the sand. A paddle in the water.

He held his breath, listened intently, heard it again.

He faced the surf, peered out, saw the boat. A flash of something. Moonlight reflecting off something in the boat.

Dear God, it was a sequin!

She was here.

He went tearing down the sand, into the waves, up to his knees.

Calm down. Wait. You’ll scare her.

And then he laughed, loud and long. Scare her? He didn’t scare her. She was his kind.

The boat was close, he strode out, up to his hips, grabbed the stern, dragged it in to shore. And then he rested his forehead against Zoe’s, waiting for the signal. It came, her arms twined around his neck, and he lifted her out of the boat and crushed her against his chest.

One long, intense, devouring kiss.

“About time,” Finn said, when he came up for air.

“Finn! Mr. Michaels!” Zoe blushed but she was laughing too. “Have you no decorum?”

“No,” Finn said. “I don’t do decorum, I’m a thug, remember?” He spared a glance for Mr. Michaels. “Where’s her wheelchair?”

“Her folks are bringing it. You’ll find it at the front door.”

“Thanks for bringing her, sir,” Finn said.

“A fisherman doesn’t say no to a mermaid, and that’s what she told me she was,” Mr. Michaels said. Finn saw that smile that everyone had been giving him lately and he decided he loved it.

As Mr. Michaels pushed his boat back into the water Finn looked down at Zoe. “No tiara?”

“No,” she said. “I thought this glorious set of Tahitian black pearl combs was more appropriate. I mean, it’s all very well being a mermaid on a beach at midnight, but I’ve decided a tiara is more about being a queen and I’m still working my way up to that. And I thought...well, to be perfectly honest, I’m intending to wear these combs—and just these combs—at breakfast tomorrow. I might not get away with a tiara when I’m dribbling whatever you’re cooking for breakfast down my chin.”

He kissed her again, long and slow and thorough, and when the shivers wracked her he groaned against her mouth. “How about you wear just those combs and nothing else tonight, and I’ll buy you a tiara tomorrow?”

“That can be arranged. The ‘just combs’ thing. But I won’t say no to a tiara for special occasions.”

“Like, say, a wedding?”

“Yes, absolutely a wedding,” she said. “I mean... I mean, what do you mean when you say that?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, and kissed her once more. “Say yes, say it now.”

“Yes!” she said. “But Finn, after what I said that night...” She laid her hand against his cheek. “I remembered it, I remembered it all, what happened. How can you want me?”

“I don’t care about that night, not anymore. I was an idiot.”

“And I was a coward.”

“Subject officially exhausted. We need to write a new story, our story, Zoe. So who am I? The idiot prince in the tower or the mortal waiting for his mermaid? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be anything you want because remember when we were talking about our dreams, and I didn’t know what mine was?”

“Yes, I remember. I remember everything, everything.”

“Well, I figured it out. My dream was you. Always, always you.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, if we’re going to get romantic—”

“We are!”

“Then I guess I’d better confess that you’re every prince I ever imagined, but better. Every legend I ever loved, but more. You’re my past, and my present and my future, and...mine. Just mine. And yes, I can write our story. A story where we do whatever we want and be whoever we want, as long as we’re together forever.”

And he was kissing her again, striding up the beach at speed with Zoe clasped tight in his arms.

“I thought we were staying here,” she said.

“No, I’ve suddenly remembered sand’s a bitch.”

She started laughing helplessly. “OK but I have things to say about...well, other stuff. Like...like I read my old journals, and I figured out that I was googly-eyed over you that summer, and crazy jealous the two years following.”

“Good to know.”

“And I thought about what you said about letting me cry and I realized I want to cry all over you.”

“I can handle that. I might cry all over you too, I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

“I’m up for it.”

“I see we’re going to get along very well.”

“And I googled you, of course. And now I can recite every date you bought a property, and everything about each property. I know when you got married—I even saw your wedding photos—and when you got divorced.”

Finn stopped, looked down at her. “I know what Gina said to you, Zoe.”

Zoe tightened her arms around his neck. “I know. I talked to her before I came here, and I...I told her to butt out, and I’m sorry but I’m not sorry but I do understand. She was trying to save you, Finn, so of course I understand, because that’s what I’m doing.” She smiled. “The thing is, as soon as I saw those wedding photos, I knew she couldn’t save you the way I could.”

His crooked smile flashed across his face. “And how did you know that from a photo?”

“Because you weren’t looking at her the way you look at me. And—not wanting to be mean about it—that woman could use a few sequins and a crystal embellishment or two, not that I’m brave enough to tell her that.”

He started laughing. “And what else did you google?”

“I didn’t need Google for the rest.”

“The rest?”

“I didn’t need Google to tell me that I love you.”

The laughter stopped suddenly. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Finlay.”

Finlay. He didn’t think his soul could take the joy of hearing her call him that right now, on this beach, after telling him she loved him.

“The thing is,” she continued, “I’ve been feeling for a while now that when I left Hawke’s Cove not all of me did. There was a piece of my heart still here. It just took me a while to figure out I didn’t leave it in a geographic location, I left it in a person. I left it in you.”

“Ah, Zoe, Zoe!” He could barely breathe; his chest was so tight. “Put your hand in my shirt pocket.”

“Er...not the pocket I was thinking of but—Oh!” She stared at the pearl she’d liberated, dangling from its platinum chain, tears in her eyes.

“And now put your hand, that hand, on my heart, because we might as well make this engagement official.”

She laid her hand there, and looked at him, smiling through those precious tears. “Is this where you tell me you love me?”

He shook his head. “More. This is where I tell you that every beat of my heart is for you. That my heart’s been aching for you forever, and I knew it from the first time you smiled at me over those salt shakers. I’ve yearned for you for so long the yearning’s become a part of me. This is where I tell you I don’t just love you, I live for you. You are...everything, Zoe.”

“Then there’s just one thing I have to do, Finlay, and I’m doing it with you, because at last I can.”

“And what’s that, my princess, my mermaid, my queen, my dream, my love, my darling, darling heart?”

And Zoe—Zoe, his woman at last—threw back her head and screamed into the night sky.