Chapter Twenty-Four
Maisie downed the glass of water I’d gotten her after we’d cleaned up. She handed it back to me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a bashful smile making her look suddenly innocent. We had gone two rounds and I still wanted more. I could spend the rest of my life pressed against her, hearing her cry out my name.
All I could think the whole time was this had been worth the wait. It had been worth all the torment and obsession. It hadn’t even been the sensations of mind-numbingly good sex, but rather the look in her eyes when we’d fallen apart together. She was feisty and fun, with an undercurrent of pure madness.
Getting under the covers, still naked, she turned toward me, the ocean loyally thundering outside the window just behind her. I wanted to memorize this moment, to keep it with me forever. I traced her cheekbone, down her jaw, over her lips.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, scootching closer.
“That this has been worth it.”
“What part?”
I blinked slowly, struggling to stay awake. “Fighting with each other, all those months apart, the trip, now this.” I gestured at us in bed together. “Even if it’s just for a short time, it’s been nice to know all that pain wasn’t for nothing. Having a night like this confirms it’s all been worth it.”
She rested her hand over my heart. “You’re worth it,” she said earnestly.
I wanted to believe her, but at that moment, I honestly didn’t. I thought it was because I knew this was fleeting. So I couldn’t help it when a sad half-laugh escaped me.
She patted my chest. “No, I mean it.”
“I love how you came to that conclusion after you slept with me,” I jested, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.
She remained in her conviction. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You don’t let me compliment you. It’s kinda confusing. You’re the most confident, insecure person I know.” She gnawed her bottom lip. “Aside from myself, of course.”
I remained silent.
She delicately traced her nails over my bicep, roving over my shoulder, tickling in a comforting way. “No, but for real, why don’t you think you’re worth it?”
A sting filled my throat as I stared at the ocean just past her. When I felt I could speak with a steady tone, I answered, “I guess so many people have left me, after a while I just came to the conclusion I wasn’t worth staying for.”
Her face pinched in discomfort. “Dane,” she whispered.
“It’s true. I don’t need your pity. It’s just a fact I’ve had to accept.”
“Is that why you only date tourists?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you dated Azalea in high school, but beyond that, everyone says you just date the women in town on vacation or with seasonal jobs. Do you think you subconsciously pick them because you know they’ll leave?”
I pulled some of the covers higher up on my body. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”
“No, I’m just connecting the dots. Think about it.”
This version of pillow talk wasn’t what I’d had in mind. Forget the fact that we’d just had full-on sex, this moment was real exposure.
“I guess I just kinda stopped believing in love when I watched my dad lose my mom. Then when he died, I watched their love story disappear.” I took a breath to analyze my own answer, adding, “As corny as that sounds.”
“It’s not corny.” She looked at me with kind eyes, her fingertips tracing my cheekbone. “So because of that loss, you don’t think you’re allowed companionship?”
I’d never thought of it like that. I guessed I’d been on autopilot, trying to survive.
“I just don’t think it’s in the cards for me, so I take what I can get, when I can get it.”
My chest tightened. This was getting too deep. Of course, leave it to Maisie to draw something out of me I wasn’t ready to face. She was the queen of that.
“But their love story didn’t die. You’re proof of that,” she whispered, tracing my lips. “It can live on.”
I snorted, grabbing her hand and holding it to kiss her knuckles. “Yeah, an empty cottage and a lonely son trying to keep an auto shop afloat. I’m sure that’s what they had in mind. You’re sweet to say that though.”
I turned her over, wrapping her up as the little spoon. We both grew quiet, the waves pulling us under into sleep without answers.
The song “Gunpowder they investigate it before they do anything. I just figured someone would’ve called me by now. It’s making me question if I overreacted.”
I clasped her shoulders, each one easily filling up my palms. She really was a tiny woman. “You did the right thing. He needs to get his feet held to the fire.”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
“And as long as you’re with me, nothing will happen. You’re safe. I got you.”
Her chin lifted with a defiant little scoff. “I’ve got myself.”
We’d done this before, but I’d keep reminding her. All I had to do was cock an eyebrow and she grumbled, “And you’ve got me, too.” A bashful smile melted her face as she curled into me for a hug.
Breathing her in, I knew I wanted to protect her until the day I died. Even though she was a flight risk, she had bared herself to me, told me everything. I appreciated how candid she had been about her mean mom and her abusive ex, her abortion and getting roofied in college, hell, even her business plans.
A wriggle of dread edged on the periphery of my conscious.
But you haven’t told her everything, now, have you?
I pushed it away, finding something lighter and fun.
“I saw a flyer for whale watching. You down?” I asked, hoping she picked up on the inside joke about my lie to the front desk lady at the hotel in Vermont.
Pulling up from my chest, she grinned impishly. “Sounds great, much better than SeaWorld.”
An hour later, we stood in line together. “You’ll love it, I promise. You can’t even taste the potato,” I said to Maisie.
“Potato donuts? So freaking random.”
“Yeah, bet you didn’t know we have potatoes here in Maine.”
“No, I thought that was an Idaho thing.”
“We have them too. Instead of flour, you can use mashed-up potatoes to make donuts. They come out fluffier. Just trust me.” I spotted some souvenirs on the wall behind her. “Hey, did you want a patch for your jacket?”
She checked over her shoulder to figure out what I was referring to. “Oh, sure, yeah.” Her options were the shape of Maine, a cartoon donut, a lobster, and a pine tree. She went with a pine tree. “To remind me of Pine Bluff,” she said awkwardly.
I pointed to her patched shoulder. “So you’ve been to all these places?”
We shuffled ahead in line. “Um, no. This was actually my dad’s jacket. It’s the only thing he left behind with my mom. She found it the morning after, said it smelled like him, so she wore it for a while. I found it abandoned in the back of a closet when I was a teenager, kept it ever since.”
I eyed the jacket with new reverence—the pale shearling lining, the W for Wrangler stitched on each breast pocket, and the stylish way it was a bit oversized on her.
“I made up this story.” She shook her head with a wistful expression. “Maybe it’s cheesy, but I like to think he collected all these patches while touring with the rodeo. It feels like having a part of his life with me.”
“It makes sense. You’re probably right.” We inspected the patches together. “They’re from all over the Southwest.”
“This one is my favorite.” She twisted and pointed to one on her right flank.
It was a saloon girl holding a rifle with a lasso at her feet. “Cody, Wyoming,” I read out loud.
“Yep, I think she’s a cutie.” She patted the patch. “Anyways, maybe it’s time I add my own story.” She smiled at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
I couldn’t help but notice the all too familiar heavy feeling, the sensation of sinking that came when someone was about to leave me.