Chapter 18 #2
“Well, I just want you to know that I’m happy.
Happier than I ever was with you.” Aaron jerked slightly beside her.
He knew that provoking someone like Ian could only go one way.
Nothing good was going to come from it. “So you lose again.” Beth’s voice was strong.
“This is the last time I will tell you to stay away from me, Aaron, and everyone at the camp. Don’t step foot there or on Aaron’s property again.
” She lifted her chin as she grabbed his hand.
“Leave us alone.” She turned and pulled him towards the truck.
“That was amazing,” he said softly as he opened the truck door for her. “But you know that probably only provoked him further.”
“Anything we say or do provokes him.” She sighed and relaxed back into the seat. “Come on, let’s go.”
Aaron didn’t drive straight home. He knew that she probably needed space to breathe after that encounter, and if he brought her back to the quiet house too soon, her mind would turn circles around what Ian had said, or hadn’t said.
Instead, he drove down the side road until the Gulf opened up beside them.
The sunset spilled golden hues across the calm emerald water and white sand.
She hadn’t asked where they were going, just sat quietly with the wind tugging her hair until he pulled into the gravel lot at a cedar-shingled restaurant that was perched at the shoreline. Its massive deck stretched along the sand, with tables overlooking the soft waves.
The glow of string lights that hung overhead were welcoming, and they followed them down the short pathway to the seating area.
From another part of the open patio came the sound of an acoustic guitar, soft and warm, underscored by a man’s steady voice.
Beth turned her head, her lips curving faintly. “I’ve never been here. It seems nice. Is the food good?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Outside of the camp, the best place to get grilled fish. I figured that we could use something relaxing tonight.”
They got a table along the railing, just low enough to see the low surf curl onto the sand below them.
The air carried brine, fried shrimp, and lemon, and for the first time since Ian had appeared, Beth’s shoulders began to relax.
She leaned her elbows on the table, watching the horizon, where the sky melted into streaks of dark purple as the night took over.
The waitress brought menus, but Aaron was too busy watching Beth to look at it. The light from the hanging bulbs caught in her hair. She looked like she belonged here, surrounded by laughter and music, not the shadows and darkness from the past.
Beth flipped through the menu, then looked up at him. “How often do you come here?”
He shook his head. “Not too often. I usually grab a to-go and head home to eat. I never really got into the dining alone thing. My folks knew the owner. They went to school together. They used to bring me here on special nights.” His chest tightened at the memory, but he forced a smile.
“They had a rule that we had to try something new every time we came in.”
Beth smiled softly. “That’s a good rule.” She looked down at her menu. “I’ve never had shrimp pasta.” She set her menu down and leaned closer to him. “For some reason, it seems those things should never mix.”
He chuckled. “Since I’ve had everything on the menu at least once, I’m going to get the special of the night.”
When the food came, her pasta and his grilled grouper, Beth took one tentative bite and sighed. “This,” she said after a bite, “is really great and worth every minute of today.”
The musician shifted into a familiar tune, something slow and mellow, and Aaron caught Beth tapping her fingers lightly against her glass in time with the beat.
“You played as well as this the other night.”
He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Not like this guy.” He nodded at the stage. “He’s a professional.”
Beth tilted her head. “Did you ever want to play somewhere like this?”
“Not really,” he replied. “My dad taught me on a few old Johnny Cash songs when I was a kid, and I picked up some other songs later. It’s more of a… mind-clearing exercise than anything.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Do you have something you like to do to reset?”
She thought about it for a moment before answering. “Puzzles.”
“As in word puzzles, actual picture puzzles, or…”
“Picture puzzles.”
Aaron leaned back, smiling. “I think I have a few around the house we can tackle tomorrow.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you have to go back to work soon?”
He shrugged. “They gave me the week off to watch over you.”
“Speaking of that, not that it hasn’t been fun, but I’m dying to get back to my spreadsheets.” She laughed.
He smiled. “If you’re up to it, I’m sure Zoey will send them to you to look over.”
She nodded and pulled out her phone and sent a text message. “There. I warned her that if she didn’t send them to me I’d show up tomorrow for work.”
He laughed. “I’m sure they’ll be in your inbox before morning.”
She set her phone down, and it instantly pinged with a new message. As she read it, her smile grew.
“She’s sending them over first thing in the morning.”
He laughed.
They let the music carry them after that, trading stories about songs their parents loved, about the worst concert he’d ever been dragged to. Beth laughed more than he’d heard all week, her head tipping back, her eyes crinkling. For a while, Ian and the fire and everything else felt far away.
As the stars filled the twilight sky, she rested her chin in her hand, studying him across the table. “You know,” she said softly, “tonight feels… normal. Better than normal.”
Aaron held her gaze, his chest tightening with something he couldn’t name. “Good,” he murmured. “You deserve a little normal.”