CHAPTER TWELVE
ELLIOT
I finish putting the final touches on the table settings right as the doorbell rings.
The low hum of jazz drifts through the house, mingling with the scent of soy sauce, citrus, and fresh salmon.
Candlelight flickers across the dining table, reflecting off the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the darkening ocean.
I open the door to find Catherine standing there in a pale pink sundress that hugs her waist before drifting softly around her thighs in the ocean breeze. A canvas bag hangs from her shoulder, and a bottle of Riesling rests in her hands.
My brain short-circuits for a solid second.
“I felt weird coming empty-handed, so I stopped and grabbed a bottle of Riesling.” She shrugs, though the faint pink coloring her cheeks tells me she’s nervous too. “I hope it’s okay.”
“Perfect.” I take the bottle from her and intentionally brush my hand against hers, just to watch her inhale sharply. “It’ll go perfectly with dinner. I made cucumber salad and fresh salmon rolls. I hope you brought your appetite.”
Her brows shoot up as she follows me inside. “Wait, like sushi? You made fresh sushi?”
“Yes.” I glance over my shoulder. “Why? Do you secretly hate sushi? Because I have chicken I can throw on the grill instead if—”
“No, no.” She chuckles quickly, slipping off her sandals near the door. “I love sushi. I used to get it for myself as a treat after finishing a big project.”
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, I press a hand to my chest. “A girl who buys fish as a reward? A sea lion’s dream woman.” I gesture toward the dining room. “Marry me immediately.”
“Oh please.” She tosses her head back, laughing, and goddess help me, the sound catches me somewhere beneath my ribs.
“I’m serious,” I say, leading her into the kitchen. “Most people celebrate with cake or spa days. You celebrate with raw fish. That’s commitment.”
“Well unlike some people, I have refined taste. Although a massage sounds pretty amazing. I heard there’s a great massage therapist here in town. I should see if he has any openings.”
No one lays their hands on our mate.
“Some people?” I scoff, ignoring him. “I hand-rolled premium sushi for you with my own two hands.”
“You’re very brave for someone wearing an apron with squids on it.”
I glance down at the navy apron tied around my waist. “First of all, this apron is art.”
“It has little smiling squids on it.”
“They’re octopuses, not squids. Learn the difference if we’re going to be married.”
She snorts another laugh, warm and unguarded, and my inner sea lion practically rolls over begging for affection.
I pull the chilled sushi tray from the fridge along with the salad while she hovers nearby.
“Do you need help?” Catherine asks, holding her hands out cautiously.
I huff. “Please. I was born for this.”
“Next you’re going to tell me you can balance a beach ball on your nose at the same time.”
I point a chopstick at her. “Want to bet?”
Her eyes sparkle. “Absolutely not. I’m not encouraging whatever this is.”
“Coward.”
“I’m protecting my peace.”
Grinning, I carry everything into the dining room. “As the lady wishes.”
Candles cast golden light across the table as I pour us both glasses of wine. Outside, waves crash softly against the shore east of the house.
The music changes, and the instrumental version of “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” drifts through the room.
“Isn’t this the Beach Boys?” She perks up, glancing toward the speakers.
“I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be an oldies listener.” A slow smile spreads across my face. “But yes, it is.”
“There are lot of things you don’t know about me, Elliot Fitzgerald.”
“True, but I’m willing to find out.” I take a sip of wine, watching her.
Catherine takes a bite of salad and practically melts into her chair.
“This is delicious,” she says after swallowing. “What’s in it?”
“It’s pretty simple really. Cucumbers, rice vinegar, salt, sugar, soy sauce, sesame seeds.” I shrug casually before adding, “The secret is not buying garbage ingredients.”
“I’ve had cucumber salad before, but it’s never tasted this good.”
My inner sea lion preens smugly.
I top off our wine glasses while trying not to stare at the way the candlelight softens her features. She looks different tonight. Less guarded. Like maybe she’s finally relaxing around me.
Dangerous thought.
“The real secret,” I continue, “is fresh produce and high-quality rice vinegar. Also love.”
“Oh my goddess.” She chuckles. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
“Barely.”
I clear away the empty salad bowls and return with the sushi platter. Catherine’s eyes widen slightly.
“I also grabbed fresh wasabi and ginger from the market.”
“I love wasabi.”
“Clearly. I can tell you’re emotionally unstable.”
She gasps theatrically while scooping an alarming amount of wasabi onto her dish. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly stable.”
I watch, fascinated, as she mixes soy sauce into the wasabi with intense concentration before taking a bite of sushi.
The soft sound she makes nearly kills me.
Her eyes flutter shut briefly, lips parting around a quiet little hum of approval.
Every thought immediately derails.
If she reacts to food like that, what would she sound like underneath me? Eating her.
I nearly choke on my wine.
“So you work at Crescent Cove Maine Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation?” she asks, blissfully unaware she almost sent me into cardiac arrest.
“Usually three twelve-hour shifts a week.” I clear my throat. “Then I’m on emergency call every third week.”
“What do you do on your days off?”
I lean back in my chair, observing her over the rim of my wine glass.
“Mostly surf. Sometimes volunteer at the turtle sanctuary cleanup. Local volleyball tournaments.”
Her cheeks pink instantly. “You play volleyball?”
“You say that like it’s shocking.”
“It kind of is. I can’t picture you playing a team sport.”
“Because I seem too emotionally unavailable?”
“Because you seem like you’d get distracted flirting with people.”
I place a hand over my heart. “You wound me.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Barely.”
She shakes her head and takes another bite.
“You could come watch sometime,” I offer, quieter this time. “Before summer ends.”
The words land heavier than I intended.
Something shifts in her expression.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “I’d like that. Before the summer ends.”
The room falls still after that. Comfortable, but threaded with something neither of us touches.
I hate how much I’m already counting down the days.
Catherine finishes the last sushi roll and drains the rest of her wine before catching me staring.
“What?” She immediately grabs her napkin and dabs at her mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No.” My mouth curves slightly. “Just thinking how tragic it’s going to be when you move back to the city and never get sushi this fresh again.”
I gather our plates while she trails behind me carrying the wine glasses.
“Any luck on the job hunt?” I ask casually, rinsing dishes.
“Nothing serious yet,” she admits. “But I know the right job is out there. I’m not settling for the first fish that bites this time.”
“Good.” I glance over my shoulder at her. “You’re too smart for that.”
Her expression softens.
“How would you know?” she murmurs. “You’ve only known me a few weeks.”
Not nearly long enough.
Long enough to know I wait for excuses to see you. Long enough to know the house will feel empty when you leave. Long enough to know I’m already in trouble.
I dry my hands on a dish towel and shrug instead.
“I just know these things.”
Her eyes linger on me a second too long before I clear my throat.
“Time to change.” I nod toward the hallway. “Guest bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”
I turn and head toward my bedroom before she can argue or back out.
Catherine wraps her arms around her torso as she stares down at me from the pool deck, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
The string lights around my porch flicker on one by one as the sun sinks behind the house, bathing her in warm golden light.
Between the ocean breeze tugging at her loose violet hair and the nervousness in her eyes, she looks like something pulled from a dream.
Or a temptation specifically designed to test my self-control.
“Come on in. I promise the water’s warm.
” I swim to the edge of the infinity pool and brace my forearms on the ledge, peering up at her while my feet kick lazily behind me.
I twist, gesturing toward the horizon. From where I’m floating, the pool spills seamlessly into the ocean beyond, the water glowing deep blue beneath the fading sunset.
“I can’t swim.” She shifts, eyes darting from me to the infinity edge behind me like she’s calculating how quickly she could drown.
I blink.
“What do you mean you can’t swim?”
“Exactly what I said. I can’t swim. Not in the ocean. Not in lakes. Not even in a pool. I could never figure it out.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “Everyone can learn to swim.”
“Nope. Nope nope nope.” She shakes her head vehemently, backing a half step away from the water.
I bite back a grin. “You’re a water witch who grew up by the ocean and never learned to swim? No one ever taught you?”
“I played in the shallows,” she says defensively. “But I never went deep enough to need to swim. I haven’t been in water deeper than a bathtub since I was a kid.”
Her gaze flicks toward the bubbling spa spilling over into the pool.
“Not even hot tubs?” I ask.
“Especially not hot tubs. Do you know how many people drown in hot tubs every year?”
I bark out a laugh and hold my hand out toward her. “Do you trust me?”
She eyes my hand like it’s a trap.
“Do I trust the random stranger who keeps wandering around my family’s property at night—”
“Technically,” I interrupt, “we were past your property line, and I was rescuing you from the ocean.”
Her lips twitch.
“Plus,” I continue, unable to hide my smug grin, “I thought we moved past that. Aren’t we neighbors now? Fake-dating neighbors, even.”
One eyebrow arches sharply. “Who said we were fake dating?”