Page 35 of By the Book

Heat spreads through my center as his words sink in. My mouth parts, a softohescaping. His eyes darken further still at the sound of my hitched breathing.

“Why?”

“To see that adorable look you make when you get a box, I’d travel even further.”

“I—” Surprise clouds my brain, the right words out of reach. Instead, I lift my hands to cup his face and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Slow, savoring.

He trails the back of his fingers gently up my arm and brings his hand around to clasp the back of my neck.

“I didn’t come to interrupt your night. You should go inside before…” he trails off, strain in his voice.

“I’m glad you were here tonight,” I say.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I follow his instruction and climb out into the night. When I reach the front door, I turn back to look at him. He has his phone out but is watching me intently. My own phone vibrates, and I open it to find a message from him.

Tripp

You in that skirt tonight. My god.

Heat pulses through me, a smile teasing at my lips. The way this night has ended… my god, indeed.

Chapter 15

Tripp

The Foxport Harbor is protected by a natural, hooked peninsula that juts out into the sea before curling back around and in. It creates a large enough bay to be the hub for watercraft in town.

Fishermen come straight into the harbor to sell their haul and dock at one place. At the base of the peninsula sits Rusty’s, an unassuming seafood restaurant that serves the freshest fish in town because of this set up. Unlike the Lobster Shack, it is a local’s only dive. And our best kept secret.

I nod hello to Rusty himself as I pass by. Out on his patio overseeing the arrival of his second shift crew, he raises a chipped coffee mug to me in return. Continuing along the walkway, I reach the harbor gate. Confirming my suspicion, I withdraw the perpetrator’s keys from my pocket and try the lock on the man gate. It’s a match, and I step into the restricted area.

Just inside the fence is a hut that houses the harbor office. I step through into the red building and am greeted by the attendant.

“Morning, Sheriff. What can I do for you?” Barney mumbles around the toothpick between his teeth.

The office is dimly lit, with wooden shiplap walls and a gallery of fishing photos lined up behind the service counter. It only takes me two steps to cross the room and reach him at the desk.

“Hey Barney, I’m just looking to see if any missing keys have been reported to you. Checking around a few places in town, trying to get ahead of things.”

“Good idea, Sheriff. A lot of damage could be done at a place like this. But no sir. Last key I issued was a few months ago,” he says, pulling a file out from the cabinet behind the desk. Withdrawing a transfer sheet from it, Barney holds the form up in confirmation. “It was for a new key, not a replacement.”

“Alright, could you give me a call if anyone comes looking for a replacement key?”

“Sure will,” he agrees.

I head back outside, turning for the docks instead of the parking lot. From here, I can see the saltwater fishing boat I inherited from Pops. I made this walk a thousand times growing up, helping him carry the gear as the sun rose above us.

We’d spend all day out on the water while he regaled me with war stories from his days in the service and told me all about my grandmother. She’d passed before I’d come to live with him, but I still felt like I knew her from those stories.

Pops would describe her as a strong woman with a soft heart, he always assured me it was the best combination a man could find in a soulmate. That’s what he would call her, his soulmate. He’d told me that if I found a woman that was tender yet strong-willed enough to challenge me, I should hold on for dear life.

For the gruff fisherman type, Pops had a sentimental heart. Losing my grandmother had destroyed it. And then my father’s choices had stomped on it for good measure. Pops would tell me that getting to raise me had brought him back to life.

It’s always a baffling feeling being out here. Calming and painful at the same time. That’s the thing about losing someone, even the sweetest memories develop a sharp edge.

I’m rounding the corner to come back to the harbor office when I hear a polite, airy ‘thank you’ from within. I recognize the voice immediately.

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