Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Iknock loudly on the red door of the lighthouse.
Mostly out of habit by now, even though I know he can’t hear me.
The red paint is even more faded today; I can see the old, grey wood showing itself.
If I ran my fingers along it, I’m sure I’d get a sliver.
The rusty hinges squeak as I open the door, swinging open with a loud creak, and I call out as soon as I get inside.
The stomping I hear upstairs pauses momentarily and then resumes, making its way back down the stairs.
My chest tightens with the excitement I feel knowing I’m about to see him again.
I leave the entry room and come into the main level of the lighthouse, just as he comes into view on the staircase.
Dylan Hart is a sight to see. He looks straight out of an old J.
Crew ad, with light-wash jeans cuffed at the ankles, bare feet, and a tight-fitting ocean-blue long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing his toned forearms. Long, wavy hair is pulled back in a half updo with a bun, and his deep, emerald-green eyes twinkle as they find mine and pin me in place.
I’m fucked.
“Well, hello, Lucy.” He smirks and motions for me to follow him upstairs.
I tuck my loose, wavy hair behind my ears and roll up the sleeves of my brown knit sweater.
It’s warmer today, and I took that as an excuse to wear another miniskirt and tights since I thoroughly enjoyed watching his eyes explore me last weekend.
I paired it with my favourite brown mini Uggs and crew socks, and the look he gives my outfit is filled with both amusement and bewilderment.
Mission accomplished.
As soon as we get upstairs, I grab his hand, trying to ignore the sparks I feel as soon as his skin touches mine, and move him over toward the couch. “Before we do anything, I have to tell you about my week,” I say, my voice dripping with excitement.
“Okay, sure.” He turns to face me and waits for me to begin, hands now placed in his lap.
“I made your pumpkin spice coffee creamer,” I start.
“Your pumpkin spice coffee creamer.”
“Our pumpkin spice coffee creamer.” Now we’re both chuckling.
“I made it for my boss, who hates me, by the way. She loved it and wanted me to make a big batch for our customers to test out. After a lot of trial and error, I figured it out and made a big enough batch for people to try.” As he listens to me talk, his hand comes over and rests on my leg.
We both look down for a moment before he pulls it away and gives his head a light scratch.
I shake my head slightly and continue. “Customers were obsessed. We offered it free to anyone who wanted to try it, and it was such a hit, we’re going to sell it for the fall season at the cafe!
” I’m so giddy and excited that I squeeze my hands into little fists and punch the air.
“Proud of you,” he says as he gives me a wink.
“Thanks. How was your week?”
“It was alright. Went fishing, fixed the foghorn after a bad gust of wind opened the doors and damaged it. Wrote some things down in my notebook, the usual.” He grins.
“Fishing, eh? Could we go fishing? Is the weather okay for that?” I ask.
He bites his bottom lip and looks away for a moment. “That’s what you want to do today?” He looks back at me like he’s wishing I’d change my mind.
“I mean, only if you want to. I thought it could be fun. I’ve never done that before.”
He thinks for a moment before offering a bemused smile, his green eyes crinkling. “Sure, I’ll teach you.”
We journey downstairs together, and he opens the wooden trunk on the main level. The same one I found the rope in last weekend. He pulls out a dark green tackle box and two orange life jackets and then goes into the entry room, coming back with two fishing rods.
“Are we going to take your boat?” I ask, jumping with excitement as we walk out the back door into the sunny but windy day.
“We are.” He looks my outfit up and down. “Remind me to grab you some extra clothes and shoes next time you come.”
“What’s wrong with this outfit?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
“A skirt and fuzzy boots aren’t the greatest combination for a boat.” He chuckles as he slips on a pair of black Tevas. How this man looks hot in Velcro sandals, I’ll never know.
“Don’t worry, wet blanket, it’ll be fine.” I stick my tongue out at him, and he responds with a teasing grin.
We walk together into town and head toward the fishing docks at the bay.
Boats are parked along the docks with huge nets, and the smell of fresh-caught fish is pungent in the air.
As we’re about to step onto the dock, I feel a pair of eyes on me and turn around to spot a woman who looks to be about mid-forties.
Her wild brown hair and steely blue eyes stare back into mine, and realization hits me.
“Iris!” I call out and wave. She gives me a look and slowly walks toward me. “Hi, Iris. Nice to see you on this side.”