Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
H
e didn’t stay cold for long. They spent another hour slowly cruising the calm channels between the smaller neighboring islands while the hot sun bathed them in warmth. Then it was back to Whalebone Cove where they docked and disembarked.
“Did you both have fun?” A knowing gleam twinkled in Xanthe’s eyes as she hopped onto the dock with them.
“We had a blast,” Willow said, handing over their flotation jackets. “Seeing the humpback was incredible, but you were the highlight of the tour.”
“Aww, thanks.” Xanthe looked straight at him, the edge of her mouth quirking in a way that told him she’d been watching him and Willow closely. He didn’t mind one bit. “And you? Did you have a good time?”
“I had a great time.”
“Yeah, I think you did too.” She shot a meaningful glance at Willow when she wasn’t looking, then winked at him in encouragement. “Don’t be strangers. Love to get together for drinks sometime soon.”
“Definitely,” Willow said. “See you around.”
Their footsteps sounded hollow on the wooden dock as they walked side by side toward the waterfront together. “Thank you for taking me out today,” Willow said. “I loved it.”
“Me too.” Getting to spend time with her doing something fun had been a much-needed dose of medicine for him.
His dad was right. He’d become too isolated since he’d returned to the island, and it wasn’t good for his mental state. Being around Willow was like stepping out of the darkness and turning his face up to the warmth of the sun.
He wasn’t remotely ready for their time together to end. “You hungry?”
“Starving. What do you feel like?”
Pinning her up against a private wall with his body and kissing her until she was wrapped around him and ready to come unglued. But that was going to have to remain a fantasy.
“Seafood?” he said.
“Good idea. Ooh, let’s go to Breakers.”
“Sounds good.”
They got a table on the patio along the boardwalk, perusing the menus while the smell of tar and saltwater drifted on the air. She checked her phone as soon as they sat, the quiet punctuated by the occasional cry of a seagull.
“Anything from Rafe yet?” he asked.
“He called while we were on the water, then texted later to say he’s in meetings the rest of the day. He’ll get back to me as soon as he can.”
Rafe had a small force to work with here, and all his deputies would already be stretched thin with it being peak tourist season. “You okay?”
She looked up at him, gave a smile that was just a bit forced. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her.
“Okay, I’m a bit rattled that a huge container of ammo is buried in the forest close behind my house. That’s not normal, right? Not even for here, no matter how quirky the people on the island are.”
No. It bothered him too, but he kept his answer neutral. “It’ll be all right. Rafe’ll get to the bottom of it.”
She nodded, her smile easier this time. “Yeah. So, what looks good?”
“The prawns and scallops are the best on the island.”
“I’m tempted, but I think the macadamia-crusted halibut is calling my name.”
They talked over dinner, reminiscing about old times. Both of them carefully avoided talking about Carson and Peyton, until the omission became painfully awkward.
When she flipped her hair over her shoulder a third time, the way she did when she was feeling nervous, cleared her throat and tried to start a new conversation to fill the void, he reached out and caught her hand across the table.
She stilled, her gaze darting up to collide with his. Beautiful, wide brown eyes he could fall into.
“You can talk about him in front of me. I don’t mind.”
She blinked. Then blinked faster, pressing her lips together. She withdrew her hand, snatching her napkin from her lap to dab at her eyes. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I don’t know why that hit me so hard,” she whispered, her voice rough.
He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and make the hurt stop.
For both of them. “Don’t be sorry. You loved him.
We both did. You don’t need to avoid talking about him with me.
” It wasn’t fair or right for her to hide her feelings for fear of upsetting him.
He just hoped she wouldn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer.
She forced a quick smile, nodded. “Okay, thank you. Coming back here has stirred up a lot of memories. That’s all.”
Tell him about it.
“Talking about him does help. Makes it hurt a little less, like remembering him means I’m still connected to him in some way and he’s not completely gone. Even though I know that sounds crazy.”
“It’s not crazy.” Grief didn’t give a shit about logic. Or time.
She put her napkin down in her lap, composed again. “Anyway, I feel better now. And I think he’d love knowing we’re together here right now, thinking of him.”
A sudden restriction formed in Tripp’s throat. All he could do was nod.
He was saved from having to fill the silence that followed by the server coming back to ask about dessert.
Willow cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m game to split the chocolate cheesecake. You in?”
“I’m in, but sixty-forty.”
“Sixty for who?”
“Me.”
“Oh, you think so, do you? We’ll see about that.”
The server brought it out within minutes.
Breakers was as famous for their desserts as they were for their seafood, cocktails, and the view.
He was sure the cheesecake was epic, but he barely noticed, too caught up in watching Willow savor it with a low, sexy hum of pleasure every time she slid another bite between her lips.
His heart pulsed faster as he imagined finally capturing that lush mouth with his, delving inside to tease her tongue. Unleashing years of pent-up longing locked in the place he kept buried down deep.
The server walked by just as Willow licked a final trace of chocolate from her lower lip.
“Check please,” he said, struggling to keep a chokehold on the urge to grab her and lick it off himself.
He walked her back to her car in the deepening twilight, parked a few blocks up from the water. With every step he was intensely aware of how close she was beside him. Of the faint scent of her shampoo or perfume that kept drifting up to tease him. Of how right it felt to have her beside him.
What would she do if he stopped and took her face in his hands to kiss her right here and now?
“So, when can I come by and see your workshop?” she asked as she pulled out her keys and remotely unlocked her doors.
He pulled his brain back to the present. “When do you want to come by?”
She stopped near her rear bumper to look up at him. “Tomorrow?”
God, she was beautiful, the light from the streetlamp behind her bathing her in a soft yellow glow. “Tomorrow’s perfect.”
They stared at each other in silence, the need building inside him until all he could hear was the thud of his pulse in his ears. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anyone. Needed her. And given everything they had in common and the grief they shared, maybe she needed him too.
Fuck it.
He took a step forward to close the distance between them, stopped when something crunched under his right foot.
Glancing down, he saw the bits of broken glass shimmering in the faint light, right below her passenger window that someone had smashed in.