Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Michael
When Emery tells me she wants to stay in Lucky Bay indefinitely, I can’t wipe the grin off my face. Seeing how she fits into my hometown so seamlessly makes me fall for her even harder. My mom loves her, and Emery loves everything—the cottage her aunt gave her; my apartment where we can sit on the rooftop and see the entire town; the bar where I take her to meet my crew one night; even the docks where I’ve gone every day to work for years.
Seeing my hometown through her fresh eyes gives me perspective on what a magical place I live in. We eat fried clam dinners on the pier, we take long walks on the beach, and we make love every night. And every morning.
I haven’t returned to my boat, though. I’m just not feeling that itch I always do when I’ve been on land for too long. I keep waiting for the urging, but it’s not coming. Instead, Emery and I have casual conversations about spending a few months a year on Wild Ranch and living the rest of the time in Lucky Bay. We discuss opening an online fishing gear store together where she can use her marketing background and I’ll get to stay involved in fishing. And best of all, we’ll be free to travel whenever and wherever we want.
“I love this plan,” she says.
“It was your idea,” I remind her. “And a damn good one.”
She smiles at me. “Take me out on the water, Michael. I need to feel what you feel.”
“I haven’t been ready to go back to work,” I say. “But if you want a scenic tour, I can do that.”
“Perfect.”
The seas are calm with almost no wind, a near miracle for Lucky Bay. The sun is shining, and so are Emery’s eyes as I guide the boat to a small group of islands not too far from shore.
“This is the most beautiful place in the world,” she says.
I look around at the islands, some rocky, some green. The blue ocean all around us glints with the sunlight reflecting off of it.
“When I’m out here, I can hear myself,” I say. “Of course, my crew is usually with me, and they never shut up. Somebody’s always talking shit about something.” I chuckle.
“Do you miss it?” Her question hangs in the air.
I know she genuinely wants to know the answer.
I just don’t know how to answer her. Not yet.
“I still need a little time to figure that out,” I say honestly.
She wraps her arms around my waist. “Take all the time you need.”
“I’ve made an appointment with a therapist,” I tell her. “She specializes in trauma and familial loss.”
“You should be proud of yourself,” she says. “You’re really working to heal your pain. So many people never do. They’re afraid to rip off the bandage. ”
“Each day, I fall for you more,” I murmur.
She tilts her head to look up at me. “What are you saying, Michael?”
I put my hands on her hips. “I’m saying I love you more every day.”
She grips my shirt in her fist and pulls me closer. “I love you more, too.”
I kiss her quickly on the lips. Then, I kiss her again. Because once is never enough with Emery. And I know it never will be.
I’m about to break my rule of no forevers . I guess I should be surprised. Then again, I’ve never been known for being predictable.
In my line of work, being predictable gets you killed. Rolling with the change in weather, trusting your gut on when to ship out and when to stay docked—those are the qualities that you need to survive. Even so, life’s a crapshoot, and we never know how long we have left.
So I’m going to cash in all my chips.