Chapter 21
I can’t seem to get out of this funk I’m in, no matter what I do. I tossed and turned all night, but whenever I looked over at Ridge, he seemed to be doing the same thing.
Today is the day when I leave Maine in the past and head back to my life in New York, not even knowing if a job will be there waiting for me, but I can’t stay. I have responsibilities back home.
Besides, I’ve only known him for two weeks.
It’s insane of me to even consider staying longer for a man I hardly know.
I’m just lost in a … Maine Christmas bubble.
Where everything is like a spicy Hallmark movie.
Once I’m home, I’ll be pulled out of it, and I’ll remember how much I love where I live, and I’ll forget about Ridge. I’m sure of it.
It’s early. So early that the sun isn’t even up, and yet here I am, staring at the ceiling.
I’m afraid to look over at him because if he’s awake, that means we probably need to have a conversation.
And right now, I’m not sure what good talking would do.
Deep down, we both know what this is. It’s a fling.
And flings are meant to be uncomplicated and fun.
Unfortunately for me, Ridge must know that I’m lying here awake because when I feel the bed shift as he rolls to his side, I can sense his eyes on me.
“You know what I said about my favorite view of this place being from the water?” His voice isn’t groggy like it should be for a time when we should be asleep. Instead, he sounds wide awake. Then again, he’s used to getting up much earlier than this for work.
“Yeah, I remember.” I don’t roll onto my side to look at him. Instead, I keep my gaze upward. Looking into his eyes right now would break my heart.
We aren’t strangers anymore. I’ve told him things about my life that I’ve never said to anyone else—aside from a therapist I had for a short time.
“Since your flight isn’t till later … can I show you?” For a tough, rugged man, he speaks so softly right now, like he’s walking on eggshells because he doesn’t want to spook me. “If we hurry, we can catch the sunrise too.”
Every intimate moment I spend with this man is only going to make it harder to walk away from him.
But my entire adult life, I’ve been so fixated on controlling situations after feeling like I had no control at all for so long.
Right now, I don’t want to be anxious, thinking about the pain that’s to come.
I just want to continue to feel. So, rolling onto my side, I reach up and brush my palm against the stubble on his face.
“I would love that,” I whisper.
And the look in his eyes only makes the pain radiate deeper through my chest. Because just like me, he’s dreading tonight. I can see it.
So many sounds flood my ears, but each one is peaceful and projects a sort of calmness that I’d never be able to explain to my coworkers in the city.
The dull rumble of the boat’s engine somehow seems like that of a lullaby.
And the waves hitting against the sides of the boat, splashing softly as it cuts through the salty water, provide some sort of mystical, calming effect.
Maybe some people would find the squawk of the seagulls off in the distance annoying, but as I take a deep breath of sea air, I feel a sense of home in a place that’s the furthest thing from it.
It’s dusk, and I stand beside Ridge as he keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on the space that looks sort of like a dashboard, but … on a boat. He’s showing me a piece of himself. A piece that makes up such a big part of who he is, and I see him so clearly right now. More than ever before.
This place is enough for him. He’s happy here, in Maine, doing what he loves. What a feeling that must be—to just know you’re exactly where you belong and have been your whole life. I envy that kind of feeling. I’ve never had that, and I also don’t know if I ever will.
“Wanna drive?” he asks, looking down at me. “We’ll steam to the lighthouse. That’s the best place to see the sunrise.”
“Oh … I don’t know,” I say, chewing my lip. I do want to drive his boat. I’ve never driven any boat—ever. And his is gorgeous, but it’s his livelihood. I don’t want to make a mistake and hurt it. “That’s okay. I don’t want to hurt your boat or anything.”
Unfazed, he lifts a brow. “Do you plan on running it into a ledge as payback for anything mean I said?”
“Well, no,” I say quickly. “Of course not. I don’t want to die.” I cringe. “I’m actually a terrible swimmer. I’d never make it.”
His eyebrows dip down thoughtfully before he grins. “Okay then, you’re driving.”
Taking a step back, he plants his hands on my waist and shifts my body in front of the ship’s wheel. Nervously, I grip it, keeping it straight and trying to ignore his hands on my body because I have a damn boat to drive.
“Like this?” I whisper, painfully aware of his hands still.
“Yep,” he says. “You’re doing great, Fireball.”
It may seem like no big deal, yet my heart races, and my skin prickles to life.
I don’t know if it’s from having Ridge so close, driving a boat for the first time, or a combination of both.
All I know is, I’ve been on a lot of dates, and none of them have ever come close to the one I’m on right now.
In the distance, I see the outline of the lighthouse as the sun begins to ascend. When I looked at the pictures of Maine before coming here, I knew it was going to be beautiful. What I didn’t know was how much the beauty would impact me.
“Wow,” I whisper as the light slowly hits the lighthouse.
I’ve seen plenty of calendars and screensavers, but nothing compares to this moment right now. I’m in a boat, watching the sun rise next to a gorgeous lighthouse.
I can’t believe I didn’t want to come to Maine when I first found out I had to.
“I think I take for granted that this is my office,” Ridge says slowly, only half teasingly. “One hell of a view, huh?”
I don’t know what it is, but tears threaten to spring in my eyes, and my throat grows hoarse with raw emotion as I swallow it down and nod. “Yeah. It sure is.”
Once we get close enough to it, Ridge reaches around me and pulls a throttle that takes the boat out of gear.
Walking to the back of the boat, he picks up a large anchor that is clearly heavy before he steps onto the side of the boat and carries it to the bow.
I watch in awe, not knowing how someone could ever be this comfortable on the ocean.
And despite the sunrise being at its peak, I can’t take my eyes off him as he ties the rope to the very front of the boat and throws the anchor over.
Once he’s done, he walks back down the side of the boat, past the thing that swings—something that I’m pretty sure lifts his traps out of the water—and jumps back down next to me.
Though I try to fight myself from shivering, I fail, and of course, Ridge notices.
“Inside the wheelhouse is nice and warm,” he says, pointing toward the door that leads into a closed-in area on the deck. “We can sit in there and watch the rest of the sunrise.” He pauses. “Or … look at the cool color the sky is now that the sun has risen.”
Laughing lightly, I shiver again and follow him through the door. Once he’s closed it behind us, he plops down on the captain’s chair with yet another ship’s wheel in front of it before patting his lap.
“Come sit with me, city girl. Let’s look at the sunrise together.” He stops, shrugging playfully. “They say nothing beats a Maine sunrise. Maybe it’ll convince you to stay here. Who knows?”
His words don’t piss me off; they just make everything I’ve been trying to avoid feeling hit me all at once. The truth is, I love everything about Maine. And everything about this place is making me question the city.
But here’s the catch that I keep going back to … is it Maine, or is it a certain guy in Maine? One I hardly know.
I am one of the most levelheaded people I know. I don’t make rash decisions. I think about everything from every angle possible, and then I decide what comes next. But even considering staying here is insanity. I know it is. And yet the thought is secretly dancing in the back of my mind.
“What are you saying, Ridge?” I shrug, unable to enjoy the damn sky anymore because all I can think about is the stupid words he just said. “That you want me to stay here?”
He doesn’t even know how to answer me, which only makes me more upset.
“Do you want me here for good, or do you just want me here a few more days for sex?” I blurt out, knowing I sound like a crazy person, but I can’t seem to stop myself from spewing out more bullshit. “Is that all this is to you? Sex?”
He stands abruptly and takes a few large strides to me and glares down. “What’s it to you, Stella? Is it sex? Is it a distraction from the holidays? Is that what I am to you?”
“I don’t—” I stop, bringing my hands to my face. “I don’t know! Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I don’t fucking know what this is anymore!”
“Well, do you want to stay?” He wastes no time barking out, “Or do you miss New York?”
I stare at him, my eyes dancing between his, and he throws his arms up.
“It’s not a hard question, Stella! You either want to stay here longer, or you want to go home. Answer me!”
“Stay here?” I yell, dropping my hands. “Ridge, I hardly know you! And you’re asking if I want to stay here?”
“You know me,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
“You know me better than any other woman ever has. I don’t give a fuck that we met two weeks ago.
I’ve never spent Christmas with a girl. Or made her coffee.
No other woman has ever stepped foot on my boat besides my mother, and I sure as hell have never taken a date sightseeing. ”
“I don’t even know your middle name, Ridge.” I shake my head. “Or how old you are. I don’t know who your last girlfriend was or if you’ve had your heart broken.” I inhale. “I know nothing about you. And you don’t know me either.”