Chapter Thirteen
Marit couldn’t be happier with the way her personal life was going.
She was still pinching herself that Zach had said he loved her.
She kind of half expected things between them would get a little stale, now that the blush of first romance was behind them.
But with every week that passed, Marit only felt herself loving Zach more.
He was truly a wonderful man. She was guilty of thinking All the good ones are taken more than once over the years, and yet, here she was, with one of the good ones, who amazingly seemed to love her as much as she loved him.
They had disagreements, but nothing that made her feel scared of what Zach would do, not like she used to feel around her brothers when they got angry or irritated with her.
Their biggest argument to date was actually caused by something kind of stupid on her part.
Zach had wanted to walk her to work in the morning, and she’d refused.
He couldn’t understand why she was irritated, and Marit didn’t know why he thought she needed an escort everywhere she went.
She’d been walking to work since moving to Rockville with no issues whatsoever, and even when she’d lived in Portland—which, in her opinion, was far more dangerous because of the homeless camp she had to pass every morning to get to the docks, filled with men and women desperate for money so they could get their next fix.
In Rockville, passing anyone at all in the very early hours was an anomaly.
So when Zach insisted he’d be escorting her to work every morning, Marit got irritated.
She’d told him she was perfectly capable of getting to work on her own, thank you very much.
Then Zach’s feelings got hurt, and he lashed out, telling her she was a walking robbery statistic with her gender and size, and the fact that she usually wore her fishing gear, which made it more difficult to run if necessary.
Marit had stormed out of the apartment, and he’d let her go.
She’d thought about their fight that entire day—and hated how she’d felt as a result.
A little sick to her stomach, and not because the waters around Rockville had been choppier than usual due to an incoming storm.
By the time she got home that afternoon, she was more than ready to talk about their disagreement.
When she’d opened the door to Zach’s place, they’d both blurted “I’m sorry” at the same time, and the relief that swam through Marit’s veins made her almost dizzy.
They’d talked it out, and Zach explained that he was simply worried about her.
That his dad had taught him to protect his loved ones at all costs.
He’d spent his life looking out for his mom—moving home was proof of that—and even while in the Navy, he’d spent a lot of his time making sure everyone who worked under him was safe and had everything they needed.
Marit admitted that she was sensitive about her size, and she explained once more that she’d taken quite a few self-defense classes so that if someone did decide to harass her, she could handle them.
They’d ended up making slow, tender love that night, and they’d both promised to try to be more open with their feelings so they wouldn’t have a misunderstanding like that one again.
It was closing in on the middle of November, and Zach’s mom was in a tizzy planning a huge Thanksgiving dinner for everyone.
Marit wished she could be more help, but Britt was doing a very good job of both assisting and keeping the woman reined in.
In a text Marit had gotten the night before, Britt said that Evelyn wanted to make four turkeys, which seemed like extreme overkill to Marit.
But then again, she supposed four adult men could probably eat a lot of food.
She was looking forward to what would essentially be her first traditional Thanksgiving.
Most of the time she spent the holiday in her apartment, eating a frozen meal and watching movies.
Growing up, before her parents died, they’d had turkey and all the trimmings, but after, celebrating Thanksgiving, birthdays, and Christmas simply wasn’t something her brothers bothered themselves with.
“It’s going to be a nice day,” Zach said, as they sat at his table together in the morning, before she headed off to the docks.
He always got up at the same time she did, and while she showered and got ready for work, he made coffee and breakfast for her.
Sometimes it was eggs, sometimes it was waffles, other times it was something she could eat on the go, like a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel.
He always seemed to know exactly what she was in the mood for.
Although, it wasn’t like eating anything Zach made was any kind of hardship.
And the man spoiled her, to the point Marit had recently noticed her pants were becoming a bit snug, and she told herself she’d stop eating so much.
But living with a fantastic cook like Zach, who appreciated her trying out his concoctions, was hell on her good intentions.
“Yeah,” she answered, after she swallowed the bite she’d just taken of the chocolate-zucchini bran muffin Zach had made that morning. “These are amazing,” she told him.
“Thanks. Saw them in an article I found online. Thought you might like them.”
“They have chocolate in them, of course I like them,” she told him with a chuckle.
“My girl does like her chocolate,” he agreed.
His girl. She liked the sound of that so much.
Almost as much as she loved how bossy the man was in bed.
Over the last several weeks, they’d been experimenting a lot, and they’d both found that they got off on him being a little more alpha and her being a little more submissive.
She’d never be a true submissive, she liked being in control a little too much for that, but she did like when Zach literally picked her up and moved her around, putting her in the positions he wanted.
She took a big bite of the double-apple baked oatmeal casserole he’d made earlier in the week, which they were still munching on.
It had a ton of spices, plus eggs, syrup, pecans, and of course, lots of apples and oatmeal.
It was freaking delicious, and Marit had to control herself not to eat half the dish at one time.
Dragging her thoughts away from the food, she continued their conversation.
“It’s supposed to be in the lower fifties today, and sunny.
Which is great, considering the storm that’s coming later in the week.
Eliot wants to pull as many pots as he can today, so they can soak for a few days during the storm. ”
“Which means you’ll have some time off, yeah?” Zach asked.
He was getting used to her unpredictable schedule. In the summer, she nearly always worked six days a week, but in the winter they might work three days in a row, then take a week off. It all depended on the weather.
“Most likely.”
“You have Thanksgiving off though, right?”
“Yes. Eliot and Jonah are spending it with family up in Bangor, so I have at least four days off in a row. I thought maybe I could go over and help Britt and your mom. Not sure exactly what help I’ll be, but I’m guessing I can do something.”
“Or you could just go over there and relax,” Zach suggested. “Something you don’t do very often.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” Marit deadpanned.
Zach chuckled. “I know. I work just as hard. But I have to admit, I’m freaking out a little since business has slowed to a point that it’s almost nonexistent.”
“Have you thought any more about closing The Lobster Buoy from Thanksgiving to Easter?”
“I’m thinking I almost have to. Which sucks, because I really wanted to be a year-round restaurant.”
Marit put her hand on Zach’s forearm. “Cut yourself some slack, Zach. This is your first year. I have a feeling the longer you’re around, the more people are going to want your food.”
“I’m going to expand into a more permanent space,” Zach said, and it sounded like a vow. “I’ll always keep the shack, because it’s in a primo spot downtown, but if I get an actual restaurant, then people can come in and eat no matter what the weather.”
“And it’ll be awesome,” Marit said from the heart. He was going to succeed because anything else simply wasn’t an option for him. But not only that, his food was damn good.
Looking at his watch, Zach said, “It’s getting late. You need to go if you’re going to beat Eliot and Jonah to the boat.”
“Damn,” Marit said. “You’re right.” She’d gotten into the habit of getting to the dock before her boss and Jonah to prep the boat.
It technically wasn’t her job to do so, but she took pride in having things ready to go when the others got there.
She could also admit she was a bit of a perfectionist, and she liked things the way she liked them when it came to her workspace.
She could check the ropes and the safety equipment, and make sure the radio was working properly.
Safety was important to her. Not that Eliot didn’t insist on proper protocols, but Marit simply liked to see for herself that everything was in its place and ready to go . . . just in case.
They stood, and while she climbed into the oilskin overalls that would protect her from the icy spray, and made sure her tool belt was secure and she had her insulated waterproof gloves, Zach got down on one knee and helped her put on her rubber boots.
Somedays she felt like the little brother in A Christmas Story, waddling around in all her gear, but especially in the winter, when it was important to have everything zipped and buttoned up tight.
“All good?” Zach asked when he stood.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Here’s your lunch,” he told her, handing her a bag with the meal he always prepared for her the night before. She didn’t always get to eat it, especially if the lobstering was especially good, but he hated to think of her going all day without anything to fuel herself.