Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
H annah smoothed her dress nervously, pacing by the front window of her small house. She wasn’t sure why she felt so jittery—it was just a date, right? Just Sam. But there was something about him, the easy way he carried himself, the kindness in his eyes, that made her stomach flutter.
A low rumble interrupted her thoughts, and she peered outside. Her eyebrows shot up at the sight of the vehicle pulling into her driveway. It was a mint-condition 1967 Volkswagen bus, its two-tone green and cream paint gleaming in the fading sunlight. Hannah blinked, momentarily stunned. She’d seen pictures of vintage cars like this, but she’d never seen one in person.
The driver’s door creaked open, and Sam stepped out, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted her in the window. He looked exactly like he belonged with the bus—classic, confident, and timelessly cool. His salt and pepper, slightly wavy hair caught the light, and his tailored linen shirt and jeans gave him an effortlessly polished look.
Hannah grabbed her bag and stepped outside, closing the door behind her. “This is yours?” she called, motioning to the bus.
Sam leaned against the open door, his grin widening. “It is. Isn’t she a beauty?”
“She’s something,” Hannah said, walking closer to inspect it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these in person. I’m surprised it runs.”
Sam laughed, a low, warm sound. “Runs like a dream. Well, as long as you’re not in a hurry that is.” He opened the passenger door for her with a small bow. “Your chariot awaits.”
Hannah climbed in, the smell of old leather and polished wood filling her senses. The interior was immaculate, with wooden paneling, plaid cushions, and a small vase on the dashboard holding a single daisy. “Okay, this is actually amazing,” she admitted, running her hand over the seat. “How long have you had it?”
“About ten years,” Sam said, sliding into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, the familiar rumble vibrating through the cabin. “I restored it myself. She was in pretty rough shape when I found her, but I like bringing old things back to life.”
Hannah glanced at him, curiosity lighting up her face. “Is that why you became a sculptor? To preserve things?”
“Partly,” Sam said, shifting gears as they eased out of the driveway. “I’ve always loved the idea of giving something a second chance. Whether it’s a piece of metal, a block of wood, or even an old bus, there’s something satisfying about seeing the potential in something others might overlook.”
Hannah nodded, leaning back in her seat as they drove down the quiet street. “I think that’s really cool. I’ve never been great at seeing potential in things. I mean, I run the vineyard gift shop—well, I’m trying to learn how to run a real store—but that’s all about selling finished products, not creating them. Although, I guess what I see what I look at a piece of sea glass is what it can be as jewelry.”
Sam glanced at her, his expression thoughtful. “I’m not sure you’re giving yourself enough credit. You have to see the potential in people, don’t you? Knowing what they’ll like, what will make them happy? That’s a kind of art too.”
Hannah felt her cheeks warm. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence as the bus trundled along, its pace leisurely, the engine humming a steady rhythm. Hannah watched the world go by, the sun dipping lower on the horizon and casting everything in a warm, golden glow. She couldn’t help but smile.
“This is nice,” she said softly. “Slowing down. It feels…different.”
“Different is good,” Sam said, his voice equally soft. “Sometimes, we move so fast we miss the good stuff.”
Hannah turned to him, catching the way the light played across his features. “You really believe that, don’t you? That slowing down is better.”
Sam nodded, his eyes on the road but his tone earnest. “I do. Life’s not a race. The best things are the ones you take your time with.”
Hannah smiled, her nerves from earlier melting away. She didn’t know where this night would take them, but for now, she was content to enjoy the ride.
Herring Cove Beach was alive with the hum of conversation and the smooth notes of a jazz saxophone floating on the salty evening breeze. Picnic tables dotted the sand near the water’s edge, lit softly by strings of bulbs that swayed gently in the ocean breeze. The scent of the sea, mingled with the aroma of food from nearby vendors, creating a relaxed, lively atmosphere.
Sam parked the Volkswagen bus in a gravel lot and stepped out, taking a deep breath of the ocean air. Hannah climbed down from the passenger seat, her sandals crunching softly on the gravel. She glanced around, taking in the scene.
“This is…cozy,” she said, smiling. “I’ve never been to something like this before.”
“You’re in for a treat,” Sam said, locking the bus. “Herring Cove does this every Sunday and Wednesday now. The bands are always great, and it’s a perfect way to unwind.”
They walked toward the tables, the music growing louder as they approached. Sam gestured to an open picnic table near the edge of the gathering, where they could hear the music clearly but still have a bit of privacy.
“I’ll grab us something to drink,” Sam offered. “Beer okay?”
“Perfect,” Hannah replied, settling onto the bench. She watched him walk toward the small vendor tent, her thoughts flickering between admiration and curiosity. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, like someone who had nothing to prove but everything to give.
Sam returned a few minutes later with two beers and a paper bag of snacks. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got pretzels and these little hand pies they’re famous for. Meat or veggie?”
“Veggie, please,” Hannah said, taking a beer and one of the small hand pies. “Thank you.”
They listening to the band and watched as couples got up to dance. The smooth jazz tones of a trumpet joined the saxophone, the melody weaving effortlessly with the rhythm of the waves crashing in the background.
“So,” Hannah said, breaking the silence, “tell me about you. I mean, I know you’re a sculptor, but what got you into that?”
Sam took a sip of his beer, his expression thoughtful. “I think I’ve always been drawn to working with my hands. Growing up, I was the kid who took apart toasters just to see how they worked—and usually couldn’t put them back together.” He chuckled. “But it wasn’t until college that I discovered sculpting. Something about turning raw material into something meaningful just clicked for me.”
“Did you study art?” Hannah asked.
“I did,” Sam said, nodding. “But life happened, and after graduation, I ended up in construction for a while. It wasn’t until after my daughter was born that I started sculpting seriously again.”
“You have a daughter?” Hannah asked, her curiosity piqued.
Sam smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his whole face. “I do. Caroline. She’s twelve going on twenty-five and already thinks she knows everything.”
Hannah laughed. “Sounds like a handful.”
“She is,” Sam admitted, his tone warm. “But she’s also amazing. Smart, funny, and way too clever for her own good. She lives with her mom most of the time, but we have a good arrangement. I see her every other weekend and during school breaks.”
Hannah nodded, taking another sip of her beer. “That must be hard, though. Being apart so much.”
“It is,” Sam said, his gaze distant for a moment. “But we make it work. And when she’s with me, it’s all about her. Ice cream for breakfast, late-night movies, you name it.”
Hannah smiled, warmed by the obvious love he had for his daughter. “She’s lucky to have you.”
Sam shrugged modestly. “I’m the lucky one. She keeps me grounded.”
They fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, swapping stories about their lives. Hannah told him about growing up in Periwinkle Shores, the gift shop she was learning to run, and the heartbreak that had made her wary of relationships. Sam listened intently, his quiet understanding putting her at ease.
As the band transitioned to a slower number, Sam set down his beer and offered his hand. “Dance with me?”
Hannah hesitated, then smiled and placed her hand in his. They moved to a small, makeshift dance floor near the stage, swaying gently to the music. In that moment, with the sound of the waves and the warm notes of jazz surrounding them, the rest of the world seemed to fall away.
When the song ended, Sam leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Thanks for saying yes tonight.”
Hannah looked up at him, her heart fluttering. “Thanks for asking.”
When the event ended, they decided to walk the beach. The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as they strolled along the shoreline. The soft sand shifted under their feet, and the gentle crash of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Hannah hugged her arms around herself, the evening breeze cooler now that the sun was setting.
“This is nice,” she said, glancing at Sam. “I can’t remember the last time I just…walked on the beach like this, on a date, I mean.”
“Walking the beach is my favorite thing to do It’s why I love living on the Cape,” Sam said, his hands in his pockets. “The quiet, the simplicity. No deadlines, no noise. Just this.”
Hannah smiled, nodding. “I get that. Life’s been so busy lately with everything going on at the gift shop and…well, other things.”
“Other things?” Sam prompted, his tone light but curious.
Hannah hesitated, then laughed softly. “It’s nothing major, just family stuff. My sister Lucy and I were planning something sneaky with Rachel’s boyfriend this morning.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Sneaky? That sounds intriguing.”
“Well,” Hannah began, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Jack, Rachel’s boyfriend, is proposing to her tomorrow night. Lucy and I have been helping him plan it. It’s going to be at the vineyard, just the family, and Rachel has no idea. We’ve got everything set—dinner, decorations, her daughter Everly in her princess dress—it’s going to be perfect.”
“Wow,” Sam said, his grin widening. “That sounds incredible. You’re a good sister.”
Hannah shrugged, smiling. “Rachel deserves it. She’s been through so much, and Jack’s a great guy. It’s nice to be part of something happy.”
Sam studied her for a moment, his gaze soft. “You talk about your family with so much love. That’s rare.”
Hannah felt a warmth in her chest at his words. “They mean everything to me. We’re all so different, but we’ve always had each other. Even Aurora…though that’s a long story.”
“Aurora?” Sam asked, tilting his head. “She’s your mom, right?”
“Yeah,” Hannah said, letting out a small laugh. “Our relationship is…complicated. But she’s been good about letting me work at the shop this summer and figure things out. I think it’s brought us a little closer, though we’ve still got a lot to work through.”
Sam nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sounds like there’s a lot to unpack there. Maybe a conversation for another time?”
Hannah looked at him, surprised by how easily he read her. “Yeah, maybe.”
Sam’s lips curved into a small smile. “So, there will be another time?”
Hannah felt her cheeks flush, but she smiled back. “I’d like that.”
They continued their walk, the conversation flowing easily between them, moving from lighthearted topics to deeper ones and back again. Hannah found herself relaxing more with every step, her nerves from earlier in the evening long gone. Sam had a way of making her feel at ease, like she could be herself without fear of judgment.
As the sky darkened and the first stars appeared, they made their way back to the Volkswagen bus. Sam opened the passenger door for her, his gentlemanly gesture making her smile. The drive home was quiet but comfortable, the hum of the engine and the soft jazz playing on the radio filling the space between them.
When they pulled up to her house, Sam turned off the engine and looked at her, his expression warm. “Thanks for tonight, Hannah. I had a great time.”
“Me too,” she said sincerely. “It was…really nice.”
“Let me walk you to your door,” he said as he got out of the car and ran to the passenger side. As they walked up the path to the front door, Hannah suddenly felt nervous and unsure about whether he might kiss her. She couldn’t tell if he felt as awkward as she did, but if he did, it didn’t show.
Sam leaned over, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Goodnight, Hannah.”
“Goodnight,” she said softly.
Hannah let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and made her way inside. She leaned against the door, her mind replaying the evening. Sam’s smile, his laugh, the way he’d listened so intently—it all lingered in her thoughts, leaving her feeling a mix of excitement and calm she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Goodnight, Sam,” she whispered again, only this time to herself, taking pleasure in saying his name once more.