Chapter 26 – Miles
TWENTY-SIX
MILES
The next morning, I wake up before Claire to find her wrapped around me, her head on my chest, and an overwhelming sense of relief. After years of wanting this exact moment and not letting myself have it, it’s even better than I expected.
Slipping out of bed, I use the bathroom and shuffle down the stairs, checking the weather and water temperature before I decide this is the perfect morning for what I have in mind. Next, I check if her coffee is in the fridge since I know there’s no way I’m getting her out of the house early if we don’t have coffee. We do, thankfully, so I quickly make her a to-go one and refill Margo, grabbing a few things and tossing them into a bag before I move back upstairs.
She’s in the same position but curled around my pillow like she realized I wasn’t there and needed a replacement. Too fucking sweet. I’m almost tempted to scrap this whole idea when she lets out a sigh and snuggles in deeper, but instead, I grab the bottom of the blanket and tug until it’s on the floor.
Once again, I almost abandon my plan, seeing her naked body curled into my bed, a leg hitched up on the pillow, and I can see her pussy again.
Nope, not now, Miller , I tell myself. She wants boyfriend things; we’re giving her boyfriend things.
Except right now, she’s glaring at me in the most adorable way.
“What are you doing?” she asks as I tug on her arm. She looks toward the window where the curtains are cracked and gets even more skeptical. “It’s still dark?”
“Surprise,” I say, whispering. I feel stupid acting as if I need to be quiet so I don’t wake someone, but it’s just the two of us here. And, of course, half a dozen hermit crabs.
“I know this thing with us just got official and all, but you should know I don’t do extra early mornings.” She glares at me with more venom than one person should be able to muster first thing in the morning, and even though I should hide it, I let out a laugh.
“You don’t say.”
Her glare intensifies. “Especially when I don’t get the details of why I’m so rudely dragged out of bed.”
“We’re going to knock something off your list,” I say.
“What?” She blinks a few times, looking adorable.
“We’re doing something on your list. You’re not working today; I’m not working today. As much as I’d love to spend the day in bed with you, let’s go. I know a place.”
“A place? What kind of place?”
“Do you have to question me on absolutely everything I ask of you?” I reach out, placing a hand on her waist and pulling her into me. I can’t help but smile down at her as she melds her body into mine. I couldn’t tell you the last time I felt this way: light and airy and just…content in the world, like this piece I didn’t realize I was looking for finally snapped into place.
“It makes life a whole lot more interesting if I do,” she whispers, and then I dip to press my lips to hers. Her hand slides up my back, tangling in the hair at the back of my neck. I break it before either of us gets any ideas since we’re on a bit of a deadline.
“You’re sure right on that,” I whisper against her lips, then tug her out of bed to get on our way.
We drive to a stretch of the beach that’s on the very edge of the town, then climb up onto the jetty before walking down to the very edge of it. The ocean is calm this morning, the low tide just barely lapping at the dark rocks, working in my favor. The sky is starting to lighten up, and I set out a towel on the ground for Claire to sit on, then hand her a coffee and a cereal bar.
“I was going to do the whole nine, but I figured after this we could go to Seaside Coffee.”
“But… your mom…”
“Hate to tell you, babe, but if my mom finds out I finally got the nerve to give this a shot, we’re really fucking in for it.”
“What?” she asks, an eyebrow raised at me.
“My mom was the first one to call me out for not telling her you were living with me. That day with the cereal boxes?” She nods. “I went to the coffee shop, and she gave me a talking to. She’s the one who helped me see what an ass I was being.”
Claire gives me that bright smile I love so much. “You were being an ass.”
“Yeah, I was being stubborn,” I whisper, pushing back her blonde locks that are being blown around by the breeze. “But I finally came around to common sense.” She smiles wider then and nods.
“Thank God for that. Took you long enough.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Thank God.” I turn for a second, scanning the ocean, almost forgetting why we’re here, and that’s when I see it. I turn her in the direction I’m looking.
“Right there,” I say, pointing out into the distance. The sun is starting to lighten now, reflecting off the ocean.
“Right where?” she asks, the forms dipping back beneath the ocean.
“Just wait. You’ll see it.” She looks at me skeptically before I turn her face back toward the ocean. For a moment, I think we may have missed the chance, but then?—
“Oh my god,” she whispers, eyes wide. Fins break the water, four or five of them, and even though they’re pretty far out, it’s clear enough to see what it is: dolphins.
I always wanted to see dolphins , she told me the second day she was in my house. I remember that morning thinking that in July, when the water is warm, I should take her to the jetty and show her, but also thinking it would be too intimate.
All I want with Claire is intimacy now.
“This time of year, I almost always see them if I come out this early. Don’t know what it is about this time, but they come over and say hi.”
“Oh my god,” she whispers again as the dolphins go under again before reappearing a bit closer. “Look at them!” She claps quietly, excited, and I smile in return.
“I think there’s a baby,” I say.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, her voice strained, and when I look at her, I see my soft girl's eyes watering.
“Are you going to cry?”
“No,” she bites out.
“You’re a liar.”
“Shut up and let me watch the dolphins,” she says.
I brush my thumb along her cheek where a single tear falls, then let her watch the dolphins.
I don’t watch the dolphins.
I watch her. I watch every possible emotion under the sun cross her face: excitement, joy, and awe. I take it in, a wash of warm, calm falling over me.
It’s then that I realize I’m falling for Claire Donovan, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep her at my side.
When the dolphins disappear, I grab her hand, and we make our way down the shoreline, her eyes on the sand looking for shells. It’s something we’ve done a million times before, usually with June chatting away or as I throw a ball with Grant, but this time, we’re walking down the shore hand in hand, and a sense of peace comes over me.
She feels it too, I know, because she says, “I always loved it here, Seaside Point.”
“Mmm,” I say, squeezing her hand but letting her guide the conversation.
“Sometimes I look back, wondering why I put up with Paul for so long.” I force myself not to tense up, knowing that he is a part of her history neither of us can erase, and I have to be okay with that. “It's because I love this place.”
Another beat passes as she watches the sand, but I know she’s not shell hunting. She’s lost in her memories.
“When I look back on it, the only moments in our relationship when I was really happy were spent down here, and sometimes, I wonder if maybe I just loved being here more, you know? Like, I loved Seaside Point so much, and being with him meant having another excuse to spend time here.” She shakes her head and lets out a small, self-deprecating laugh. “That makes me sound like a bad person, I know, only wanting to be with someone because of where they live.”
“It doesn’t,” I say quickly.
“No?” she asks, hopeful as she looks up at me.
I pause our steps and move closer to her, my hand moving to her chin.
“No. Not at all,” I whisper. “There is no one in this world who knows better how amazing this place is than me. And I have to think that you wanting to be here, me wanting to stay here, June living here and being your roommate was always some thread keeping us together.”
I brush a thumb over her cheekbone, and she leans into my palm.
“Fate kept giving us a million chances, and we were both too stubborn or too blind to see them.” Then her face moves to a bit of a glare, and I laugh. “Okay, I was too stubborn and blind to see them. But now it’s startlingly clear, and I’m not letting you go.”
A long moment passes as we stand like that, her hand lifting to hold my own cheek, her thumb brushing over my mustache the way she always does, the way I love, before she speaks.
“Promise?” I almost don’t hear the whisper over the waves, but when I do, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her in close.
“Promise,” I whisper against her lips, then kiss her, sealing the deal.
“There,” I say a bit later, tipping my chin toward the sand as Claire searches at her feet for the perfect shell.
Her gaze follows mine before she sees it there, wet and with a few pieces of sand on it, but perfectly together. A scalloped seashell. She bends to inspect it and then grabs it, stepping into the water to rinse it off before turning back with a wide smile on her lips.
“It’s perfect,” she says, walking back to me. “Look at it! The colors are so pretty.” She looks up at me with a happy grin, and I remember all of the times this exact moment has happened over the years: the times we’d wander off, me accompanying her while she scours the shoreline for shells, yammering away while I listen silently, then handing them off to me for safekeeping as she found them.
But now she’s mine.
I pull her in close then, pressing my lips to hers in a firm kiss before breaking it.
“I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“What?” she asks, looking confused.
“You always look so happy, finding a shell. You’d smile at me, and every time, I’d have to fight the urge to just…” I press my lips to hers again, and she smiles against mine. It feels like accomplishing some grand life goal, being able to kiss her whenever I want, anytime she directs that bright smile at me.
“You were always my lucky charm,” she whispers, and I smile wide, knowing this to be true.
“I’ll do it for as long as you allow me.” Her stomach growls, and I let out a loud laugh. “But maybe we head back to the car and get you some breakfast. I think you’re going to need the energy later.” I tug her in closer, then nip at her ear, and she giggles, free and sweet, and again, my heart seems to expand in my chest.
“Energy, huh?” she asks with an amused raised brow.
“Oh, yeah.”
A blush burns on her cheeks, but without a word, she takes my hand and turns around back toward the car. We’re walking past a lifeguard stand when, as is her way, Claire shocks me. You’d think I’d be pretty prepared for it by now, but I don’t think I’ll ever be prepared for Claire’s version of wild intrusive thoughts.
“We should fuck on the beach,” she says with a sigh.
“What?” I ask with a laugh, and she turns to look at me.
“We should fuck on the beach. That would be hot.”
“There would be sand everywhere, Claire. Trust me.”
She gasps, a hand going to her chest. “Miles Miller, are you telling me you’ve done this before?”
I roll my eyes, but I feel a blush burning. “No, but I grew up here. Everyone has tried it. I tried once and decided pretty soon that it was a terrible idea.”
Her arms are crossed on her chest and somehow, despite being nearly a foot shorter than me, she looks down her nose at me.
“You tried to fuck someone on the beach but won’t fuck me on the beach?”
I let out a laugh and pull her into me, although she tries to step away. I press my lips to hers, and her body eases, her arms moving around my neck as she deepens it.
When I pull away, I press my forehead to hers,. “I won’t because it wouldn’t be good for you.”
“We could bring a towel,” she whispers.
“That won’t stop the sand.”
She bites her lip, and I see it then, her stubbornness easing in. “What if we were up high?”
“Claire—”
“There’s no sand on the lifeguard chair.”
I let out a loud laugh and shake my head. “I feel like you could lose your job for that.”
“It would be nighttime, obviously . And honestly, you’ve met Helen. She’d probably go on some kind of rampage about sexual freedom and tell me new positions to try.”
I grimace, knowing she’s probably right. “Even more reason not to do it.”
“God, you’re so boring,” she says, and I smile.
“One of us has to be,” I say, spotting my truck in the distance.
“I like that,” she whispers, her stubbornness seemingly to have been forgotten.
“What?”
“You being the serious one who uses logic, me being the chaos gremlin I am.” I smile, using a hand to push her hair back.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’re a good match.”