Chapter Twenty-One
BAZ WAS MORE than fulfilling his mission to help Emerson fall in love with the Cape. They drove through Harwich, and he showed her cute shops, cafés, the best beaches, and the elementary school he’d attended, which had closed when they’d regionalized school districts and was now being used as a cultural center. They visited a family-owned lavender farm, where they chatted with the owners and Baz bought Emerson lavender lotion and lavender-lemon marmalade. Then they headed to Chatham, the preppy small town in which Brennan would one day go to elementary school. They had lunch at a café overlooking the main drag. Baz surprised her when he pulled out a collapsible dog dish, filling it with water, then gave Ollie a treat. Ollie gobbled it down and was content to people watch while they ate.
After Brennan was nursed and changed, he napped in his stroller as they walked through the shops, many of which allowed dogs, but Ollie wasn’t allowed inside the massive old library.
“We can come back without him one day, but why don’t you take a look inside. I’ll wait out here with the boys.”
The boys…
She had a feeling she’d never get used to the way he made everyone and everything feel special. “It’s okay. I’d rather experience it the first time with you.”
“And you think I’m charming.” He kissed her and whispered, “I look forward to experiencing a lot of firsts with you.” He took her hand. “Let’s go, Lockhart. There are more shops to see.”
They walked through town hand in hand. Baz pulled her in for kisses and pointed out things he thought she’d like in the shops. When they came to a grassy area with a massive gazebo, there were signs for Shakespeare in the Park, community theater. “I’d love to see that.”
“Then we will,” he said.
By the time they left, they’d bought a cute new sparkly blue collar for Ollie and an adorable Life Is Good sleeper for Brennan.
They drove along the coastal road into Orleans, stopping to walk through a windmill, where Baz told her about visiting the local windmills with his family when he was young. They looked through the guestbook and found his childlike handwriting where he’d signed it years ago. She liked seeing the places where he’d grown up. It made her feel more connected to him and to the area. After touring the inside of the windmill, Emerson sat on the grass in the shade to nurse Brennan, and Baz found a stick and played fetch with Ollie.
When had her life turned into this picture-perfect afternoon? She didn’t feel rushed or tired or stressed, and she knew that had everything to do with Baz. He was unflappable and patient. He hadn’t gotten irritated that morning when they’d had to delay leaving to give Brennan a bath or when they’d had to search for a ladies’ room because she suddenly had to pee. He reminded her of her father, knowing what to do in every situation and patiently taking life as it came.
She watched him walking toward her with Ollie at his side, his ever-watchful eyes searching their surroundings, keeping them safe. He raked a hand through his hair, which he did so often, she’d come to expect it. She liked knowing him well enough to expect certain mannerisms. When his gaze found her and Brennan, a warm smile appeared, bringing a lightness in her that she hadn’t known since before she’d lost her parents.
“Hey, darlin’. Little B was starved, huh?” He sat beside her and leaned in for a kiss before putting the leash back on Ollie.
“It takes a lot of energy to lie in the stroller taking in new sights and sounds.”
“It’s good for him.” He reached into the baby bag, pulling out a bottle of water. “It’s good for us, too.” He uncapped the water bottle and handed it to her.
Even all these weeks later, he was still making sure she was properly hydrated. For the first time since losing her parents, she knew, without a doubt, she had someone other than Gwen she could truly count on. The comfort that brought had her saying, “I think everything you do is good for us,” and sealing that truth with a kiss.
THEY MADE THEIR way up the coast, and Baz showed her cool spots and shops in the quaint towns they drove through, like the Eastham Audubon Society and the Wellfleet drive-in, which was definitely the one she’d remembered going to with her parents. Baz promised to take her there one night.
They drove by a vineyard in Truro and added it to their growing list of future outings, and headed all the way up to Provincetown, an artsy community at the tip of the Cape. They’d been there for more than an hour, and Emerson was mesmerized by the vibrant town. She was glad Baz had insisted on wearing the baby carrier rather than using the stroller. More tourists had flocked to Provincetown than any of the other towns they’d visited, and it was no wonder. The place was fantastic, with people meandering with dogs and children in and out of brightly painted shops, watching street performers, and listening to musicians and poets. Flags were strewn above the streets announcing upcoming events, and people were handing out flyers on the busy sidewalks for comedy and drag shows. Ollie was loving the attention from strangers who asked to pet him, which Baz vigilantly oversaw, and many of the stores had water bowls out front for dogs.
Emerson petted Ollie as Baz paid for a handful of baby books, a stuffie for Brennan, and a new book for her. She’d tried to pay, but he wasn’t having it. The guy behind the register handed him the bag and a dog biscuit and said, “Have a great day.”
“Thanks.” As they walked out, Baz took Emerson’s hand and said, “That’s the second Milk-Bone we’ve been given today. This place needs your dog-mama touch.”
“I’ll get right on that,” she teased.
He tugged her closer. “In that case, I’ve got a bone that could use your touch,” he said, and pressed his lips to hers.
Yes, please.
Heat rose in his eyes, and his jaw ticked. “Jesus, baby, that look in your eyes is going to get me in trouble. We need ice cream, so I can cool down.” He tugged her toward an ice cream shop.
Ten minutes later they were enjoying ice cream cones and Ollie was lapping up a pup cup in front of a clothing store. Emerson licked her ice cream as she admired a beautiful emerald-green dress with spaghetti straps that had a fitted bodice with a soft gathering between the breasts and a small A-shaped cutout beneath the gathering that showed just a peek of skin above the waist. The skirt was flowy, with a ruffled bottom, and the mannequin was wearing cute leather sandals with it.
“What do you think, Lockhart? Want to go in and try on that dress?”
“No way.” She licked her ice cream. “That’s a goal dress, and if I keep eating like this, I’ll never fit into it. Maybe when I stop nursing and start walking with purpose, I’ll lose the baby weight, and then I can consider cuter outfits like that.”
He slid his arm around her, pulling her as close as he could with the baby between them. “I love your curves,” he said low and sexy. “Just thinking about all this gorgeousness”—he grabbed her butt—“in that dress is making me hot.”
She giggled and pressed a kiss to the top of Brennan’s head. “Hear that, Bren? That’s called charm. Learn how to dole it out, and you’ll have women’s hearts melting everywhere you go.”
“It’s not charm, darlin’. It’s honesty.” He moved his hand from her butt to the nape of her neck, drawing her lips a breath away from his. “I wish you saw what I see when I look at you. You’re beautiful, sweetheart, and it wouldn’t matter if you were a hundred pounds heavier or thirty pounds lighter. I’m lucky to call you mine.” He kissed her then, and she had no idea how her wobbly legs were holding her up.
The rest of the day was just as magical. When they headed home, windows down, the scents of summer rolling in, Emerson thought about all the places they’d gone, the things they’d seen, and the stories about his childhood Baz had told her along the way.
“Have I filled your heart with Cape Cod goodness?”
“Cape Cod goodness and Baz Wicked goodness.”
“There’s a lot more of that to go around.”
Anticipation tiptoed through her with that promise. “I’m counting on it. There is one more thing that would be the icing on our perfect-day cake.”
“What’s that?”
“I’d love to see your cat condos.”
He chuckled. “Really?”
“ Yes. I love getting to know more about you, and taking care of those cats is what nudged you toward becoming a vet. Unless it’s too personal and you’d rather not share them with me.”
He reached across the seat, taking her hand. “There’s nothing about me or my life that I won’t share with you. Next stop, Pussy Palace.”
THEY PARKED IN front of Baz’s parents’ house, a rambling two-story with a wide front porch, two-car garage, and a large yard, so different from the brownstone in which she’d grown up. Baz was strapping on Brennan’s carrier when Conroy came out the front door.
“How’d you know I was missing that little guy?” Conroy asked as he headed for them.
“Hey, Dad. I’m taking Em out to see the cat condos.” Ollie whined, pawing at the truck door. Baz let him out, and he ran to Conroy.
Conroy got down on one knee to pet him. “You remember me from when you were with Gunny and Sid, don’t you? I missed you, too.” He gave him a few more pets before pushing to his feet. “Dogs never forget. How are you, sweetheart?” He wrapped his strong arms around Emerson, hugging her tight, holding her for an extra second like her dad used to.
“I’m great. How are you?”
“Better now that I got to set my eyes on all of you.” He clapped a hand on Baz’s shoulder. “Good to see you, son. Now give that boy to Grandpoppy Con.”
As Baz handed him over, Ollie observed the transfer and remained dutifully beside Conroy, watching him like a hawk. Conroy gazed at Brennan with so much affection, Emerson’s heart squeezed. Even after weeks of seeing Baz’s parents with Brennan and hearing them referred to as Granny Gingy and Grandpa Con, Emerson was still touched every time she heard it. It was hard not to imagine them as Brennan’s real grandparents, and she was thankful they had them in their lives.
“Look how big you’ve gotten,” Conroy said. “Soon you’ll be crawling and driving your mama batty as she races around picking up all the things you shouldn’t touch.” He offered Brennan his finger, and her little boy tried to tug it into his mouth. Conroy glanced at Emerson. “Why don’t I hang on to him while you check out the cat condos?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” She already knew the answer. He and Ginger loved Brennan as much as Baz did.
“I don’t know, Em. He’s quite the burden,” Conroy teased. “Using his cuteness like a weapon to get everyone to cater to him.” He chuckled. “Can you stay for dinner? We’ve got the crib and a bassinet set up for Leo and Marybelle, so Bren can nap if need be.”
“We’ve had a big day.” Baz looked at her. “Are you up to it, or would you rather head home to chill?”
As much as she was aching to be closer to Baz, she really liked his parents and wanted to stay and get to know them better on their turf. It had also been a long time since she’d had a family to have dinner with, and she had a feeling dinner with the Wickeds would be a lot more like what she remembered dinners with her family were like than they were with the Vasilious.
“I’d love to stay for dinner.”
With Brennan and Ollie safely under his father’s wing, Baz took Emerson’s hand, and they headed into the woods behind the house. It was cooler in the shade, with the late-afternoon sun filtering through the trees. They walked deeper into the woods until there were no houses in sight.
“Careful.” Baz tightened his hold on her hand as she stepped over a fallen branch.
“Thanks. I’m sure all woods look similar around here, but this reminds me of our last trip to the Cape, when I chased a fox into the woods,” she said as they came to a massive tree, and Baz stopped walking.
“There are foxes all over the Cape.” He looked to their left and lifted his chin. “Welcome to the Pussy Palace. Ashley and Madigan snuck in here and painted them. They were so freaking proud of themselves, and I was not happy about it.”
She followed his gaze, and it took a minute for her to wrap her mind around what she was seeing. Rocks lined walkways leading to each of five long forts made out of sticks. There was a small graveyard to the right of them with crooked stick crosses and rocks around it. The forts were about two feet tall and ten feet long with peaks in the middle, and seven small wooden cubbies inside. The cubbies were built out of mismatched wood and branches, messily painted bright colors, each one just big enough for a cat to fit inside. Above each entrance was a sign boasting names, most of which were crossed out, and new ones had been painted in, but Emerson’s attention was drawn to the middle fort. It was built in front of a tree that had crooked branches sticking out on either side like scarecrow arms, and above those arms were two knots in the bark that looked like eyes. It was bigger now, the branches higher, the knots deeply grooved, but there was no mistaking that it was the same tree, and she was looking at the same fort she’d discovered when she’d chased that fox into the woods.
“I can’t believe this,” she said, walking toward the middle fort. “This is where I chased that fox, but there was only one fort at the time, and no cat condos inside.”
“Holy shit. Are you serious?”
“ Yes. That’s the scarecrow tree. My dad told me that it was there to protect the foxes. The lowest branches are the arms, and the knots on the trunk above them are the eyes.”
“I never noticed that before.”
“There was only one fort back then, and it was the one in front of the tree.”
“That was the first one I built.”
“My parents and I made a rock walkway to the door.”
“That’s the same walkway. I never changed it. I thought Ashley and Mads did it.”
“It’s the same ?” Her throat thickened, and she crouched and touched one of the rocks, remembering that fun afternoon and the day they’d gone back near the end of their trip. “Did you find painted rocks with messages written on them?”
“Yeah,” he said with wonder. “They’re in the houses in that fort. I thought the girls put those there, and they had my mom or someone write on them.” He reached into one of the houses and withdrew a rock, smiling as he read what was written on it. “Capture every moment.”
Tears welled in her eyes as he handed it to her. She ran her thumb over the faded paint and ink. “My mom painted this one. She was always taking pictures of us, saying, capture every moment . Every year when we went on vacation, she made us take these cheesy family photos wearing matching clothes. The boxes in my bedroom probably have those pictures and hundreds more in them.” She swiped at her tears and then she held the rock over her heart with both hands, lifting her gaze to Baz as he reached for her. “I’m okay. Just happy.”
He wrapped her in his arms. “I know. I need the hug, too. It’s not every day you realize the universe really did bring you together.”
That drew more tears, and she tilted her face up, searching his eyes. “You think so?”
“I know so. All day I was thinking about places I want to take you and Brennan and things I want to share with you. I want to show you all the things you missed out on after losing your parents, when you needed the safety of a smaller world. And I want to show Brennan all the cool places I loved as a kid. He’ll grow up being buddies with Leo and Marybelle, and I want to be there when they raise havoc at all my old haunts.”
“ Baz…? ” she said shakily. “You’re talking like we’re a forever thing, and we only just started.”
“It’s called hope, darlin’. It feeds our souls.”
More tears spilled from her eyes. He’d said he was going to help her fall in love with the area, but he hadn’t warned her that he was going to make her fall for him, too.