Chapter 29
Fredrik
“You have a date with Ralph?” I tried not to raise my voice, but it came out loud regardless. “Ralph Peabody?”
“Larry the Lobstah, actually.” Noelle picked up another clementine slice and popped it into her mouth. “It’s just a fake date to boost his social standing.”
It was Saturday morning, and she’d asked me to meet her for breakfast at the closed Christmas store since, as she put it, it’d be on “her turf.”
I couldn’t say I totally understood, but anywhere she wanted to meet was fine with me. She’d been so busy I’d barely seen her for the past couple of days and was starting to spiral. I worried she was keeping something from me, and I hoped to God it wasn’t about her next cruise assignment.
Now I wasn’t sure this Ralph news was any better.
“But, why?” I asked, trying to find a more comfortable sitting position.
Noelle had managed to fit a picnic blanket on the floor between two shelves, and the racks of Christmas crap dug into my back.
“I’m just dating him to throw everyone off the scent about us, okay? It’s all fake.”
“Does he know that? He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Or the junkyard.”
“He knows,” she insisted. “He promised to stay quiet about us, and he’s kept his word all week. There was nothing in The Almanac. I checked! And now I have to keep my word.” She took a sip of her coffee.
“He’s blackmailing you?” Now I was definitely shouting. “That is not okay!”
“We made a deal.” She gave me a stern look. “It’ll take twenty minutes. We’ll meet at The Shore Thing after he’s done with the lobster gig. We have one drink, he walks out, I pout for five minutes, then leave. It’s no big deal.”
“Why do you have to pout?”
She side-eyed me like I was a bit slow. “Because I’m sad I lost my chance with the town mascot.”
“That’s what he’s asking?”
What kind of sick game was that halfwit playing?
I tried to calm down. I had no right to act this jealous or possessive.
She’d set up this beautiful breakfast for me.
She was hanging out with me. The air smelled of citrus, baked goods, and plastic.
Noelle had bought every fruit and yogurt the Hideaway Grocer stocked and picked up fresh croissants from the bakery.
I’d brought the coffees, lovingly made by Eileen. According to Noelle, she knew about us but had been sworn to secrecy. Watching her try to act normal was quite entertaining, like watching those aliens in Men in Black.
Noelle cast me a beseeching look. “Please don’t make a big deal about this. We’re friends, remember?”
I couldn’t match the lightness of her tone. “If it’s not a big deal, why didn’t you tell me about it earlier? And how does he know about us in the first place?”
She bit her lip, her gaze flicking about like she was searching for words. “He was at the crochet club. Did I not mention that?”
“I don’t think you did.”
Why did she look so guilty? What was Ralph really getting out of this? A dry hump? A muscle in my jaw ticked, and my hand tightened into a fist.
“Oh yeah. He popped in with this business idea but then changed his mind. He seems… special. Felicity said he was tested, and he’s not on the spectrum. But maybe he’s on the far end of another spectrum that hasn’t been discovered yet?”
“Like the IQ spectrum?”
“Don’t be mean! He’s just looking for his place in the world.”
I sighed. “Aren’t we all?”
She smiled her gorgeous smile, the one that always turned my insides into jelly. “Thanks for understanding. I just want to keep our secret safe.”
I wasn’t jealous of Ralph or afraid she’d run away with him. I was angry with myself. Why had I agreed to this? It should have been me going out for drinks with her. Holding hands with her. Pulling her into a kiss and holding her close, in private and in public.
But just like her and Ralph, we’d made a deal.
We were hiding for a reason. I couldn’t ask her to go public with me, especially at an event that was documented for the town social channels, The Almanac, and possibly other news media.
Hideaway Harbor was the go-to destination for feel-good filler stories, and the Harbor Tree Lighting was one of their annual favorites.
Like the dropping of the ball in New York, only tiny and cute and lobster-themed.
The chance of her getting photographed was pretty high.
“It’s later today, isn’t it?” I glanced at my watch.
“Yeah. But you don’t have to go, don’t worry!”
“My sister is going with Kailee. And I think Jackson will be there.”
That was another odd thing. Jackson hanging out in Hideaway on the weekend, with no date. He’d asked me to meet him there, and I’d told him he had a better chance of inviting Felicity, who we all knew hated his guts.
Noelle finished her coffee and started cleaning up. “Trust me. I know how you feel about these things. Nobody is expecting you.”
“I think I’ll go,” I said. “I don’t want to miss Santa. Or Larry the Lobstah.”
Or Ralph on a date with my woman, my brain added, and that ticking in my jaw intensified.
“Are you serious?” She cast me a suspicious once-over.
“We’re friends, right? Friends hang out together in public. No hand holding. Just… hanging out. You, me, Felicity, Kailee, Jackson.”
And the rest of the town.
Noelle was still looking at me, eyes narrowed, but I could see the excitement shining through, like sun peeking behind clouds. She loved this shit. Silly small-town events. Christmas lights. For a moment, it didn’t matter how I felt about any of it. It only mattered that she was happy.
Later that day, we were driving to the harbor, her head resting against my wheel-holding arm, so deep asleep that she bounced around like a rag doll every time I made a turn.
She’d slept poorly again. She didn’t talk about it, but I could tell. And I didn’t want to wake her. I didn’t want to break contact. Ever. Not even in public.
This was going to be hard.
I snatched the last available parking spot along Main Street, and she missed my perfect parallel parking.
“Where are we?” she asked, blinking her sleepy eyes.
We’d spent the day on the road. I’d driven her up to the mountains, to the historic lookout with expansive views over the town.
We’d wandered around Locke Estate, visiting the museum.
We’d even made it to the lighthouse to learn the history of the late lighthouse keeper’s dog, Skippy.
Noelle had a soft spot for the joint town pet and kept taking photos on her phone.
It made me nervous. She was acting like a tourist, and tourists always left.
Still, I felt compelled to show her everything.
If she found enough to love in this town, maybe she’d stay.
“It’s a short stroll to the harbor,” I said. “Do you feel up for it?”
She rubbed her eyes. “Yes! All good now. Thanks for the snooze.”
I discreetly brushed her drool off my sleeve. “No problem.”
We got out of the car, wrapping ourselves in woolly hats, scarves, and mittens, ready for the icy wind. It was already getting dark.
“Do we need to feed the meter?” she asked, gesturing at the ancient machine.
I shook my head. “Only if you’re a tourist.”
“What? They know everyone’s cars or something?”
I joined her on the sidewalk and nearly grabbed her waist, then remembered our deal. We’d been alone all day, and I’d touched her whenever I felt like it, which seemed to be every two seconds. “The parking lots aren’t monitored. We only collect the coins tourists put in.”
She chuckled. “I love that.”
On the way to the harbor, we passed the post office, and Noelle lingered at the small red mailbox by the door.
“Letters to Santa!” she exclaimed, her eyes glowing with excitement.
“I love it. I love the post office, too. I went in the other day to send something to Grace, and I met this lady who owns the yoga retreat, The Haven…”
“Wren?”
“Yes! She was so lovely. I really want to try one of her classes. And I got to know Lumi, the postmistress. She said someone crashed into the town sign the night of the snowstorm. You remember the night you went out for drinks with Jackson and the weather turned really wild? They nearly hit Skippy.”
Of course, I remembered that night. I’d fought my way across the stormy town square late that night, a little drunk, and curled up next to her on the single bed, holding her so tight.
She’d assured me friends with benefits could crash with each other.
That it was okay to spoon all night, especially as I was in no condition to drive home.
And in the morning, I’d slid my hand between her legs…
“Skippy is fine,” she said, cutting off my sexy highlight reel. “I heard he got attacked by a cat at the other tree lighting, but this lawyer who’s helping Audrey from Making Whoopie took him to the vet for a full check-up.”
How did she know all this? She’d been here for a couple of weeks and knew more about what was going on in Hideaway than I did.
We joined the steady stream of people headed for the harbor. The Christmas lights glowed against the pink evening sky. The freezing ocean mirrored the pinks with deeper shades of purple, and gentle snowflakes floated over the scenery. I heard Noelle’s sharp intake of breath as she took in the view.
“How is this place like a postcard?”
“With good timing.” I couldn’t downplay it, though. Hideaway was beautiful, and every time she noticed it, I received a new dose of hope.
We wandered along the pier, weaving through excited tourists, looking for Felicity and Kailee.
Just when I was about to take out my phone and try my luck, I noticed my sister.
She’d already found Jackson, and I could see daggers flying between them.
Or were they sparks? I had never considered the possibility, but now it seemed like the obvious answer. How blind had I been?
“I don’t want you speaking in the vicinity of my daughter!” Felicity hissed. “Not a word about your overnight trips or what you did on top of… whom, or what. You hear me?”