Page 43 of Chasing Sunsets

She reaches in her bag for her wallet, but I stop her.

“No. I’ll bring it to the party. My gift,” I say.

“Are you sure? I wanted to pay you for it,” she insists.

“Positive,” I assure her as I wrap Avie’s purchase in brown craft paper and hand it to her.

“Okay. We’ll see you on Friday. Don’t forget the swimsuit!”

Anson

Margie: Your offer was accepted. I’ll call you later to discuss the details when I have a closing date. Congratulations!

I read the message one more time before shoving my phone back into my pocket. After visiting one last property this week, I finally decided to make an offer—full asking price—on the heritage cottage. I had gone back and forth on my decision, but ultimately concluded that in the long run, I preferred a place with a dock so I could purchase a boat of my own one day.

“What has you smiling so big?” Parker asks as he comes down the hallway.

“My offer was accepted,” I say.

He stops and looks at me. “Well, damn, congratulations,” he says.

I chuckle. “That sounded sincere.”

He frowns. “I mean it. It’s just … it’s weird, thinking of you living across the island instead of across the hall.”

“Ah, are you going to miss me?” I tease.

He tosses me a look. “Yeah, because working on a boat with you ten hours a day isn’t nearly enough together time.”

I clasp his shoulder as we walk out of the door together. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Audrey will be able to distract you from the pain.”

He just shakes his head. “You want to ride over together?” he asks as we descend the steps to our driveway.

“Nah, I gotta pick Tabby up,” I say.

He cuts his eyes to me, and his lips curl. “Okay. See you there.”

I pull up to the campground and wave to Pete and Freda, who are sitting on their front porch, as I ease the truck over to Tabby’s RV. I haven’t seen her in four days.

And that’s too damn long.

Between work, helping Mom at the jewelry store, doing paperwork for Margie, and everything else that kept me running from one place to the next, the only thing that kept me sane was knowing I’d see her today. That, and the handful of late-night texts we’d been trading back and forth. Flirty, teasing messages that had me gripping my phone tighter than I’d like to admit.

But now, finally, I’m here, idling outside her place, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as I wait.

The front door opens, and there she is.

Damn.

She’s wearing this little sundress that clings in all the right places, her hair tumbling in loose waves around her shoulders. She’s got a wrapped canvas tucked under her arm—the gift for Eden and Wade—but all I can focus on is the sway of her hips.

She pulls open the truck door, sliding in beside me, and before she can even get settled, I reach for her. One hand cups her jaw, and the other rests on her thigh as I pull her in, catching her lips with mine.

She makes a small sound—surprised at first—but then she melts into it, her fingers curling around my wrist. Her lips are soft, warm, and I swear I could get lost in this, in her.

When I finally pull back, I rest my forehead against hers, exhaling slowly.

“Missed you,” I murmur, my thumb stroking her cheek.

---