Page 20 of Our Bay Will Come

"Hungry?" she asks finally, propping her chin on my chest to look at me.

I smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Starving."

"Good," she says, sitting up and stretching like a contented cat. "Because I know this amazing Thai place that delivers, and I have zero intention of putting on real clothes for the rest of the day."

"That sounds perfect," I say, watching as she slips out of bed and pulls on a robe.

"Plus," she adds, tossing me a wicked grin over her shoulder as she heads for the door, "we're going to need to refuel for round two."

As she disappears into the hallway, I fall back against the pillows, grinning like an idiot. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, or even what tonight will mean for us beyond the obvious pleasure. But for now, in this moment, I'm exactly where I want to be.

And maybe—just maybe—so is she.

CHAPTER SIX

PRUE

I've never seen a man look so engrossed by a ferry schedule. Fox studies the laminated timetable like it holds the secrets of the universe while I'm trying not to notice how his forearms flex when he grips the railing.

"We've got about four hours before we need to head back," he says, tucking the schedule into his back pocket. The morning sunlight catches in his dark hair, highlighting strands of copper I hadn't noticed before.

Bainbridge Island spreads before us like a postcard, all quaint shops and waterfront charm. We've spent the last hour wandering through the little downtown area, and our conversation flows easier than expected. Maybe it's being away from Seattle, away from my sister's knowing glances and the weight of my design deadlines. Here, I'm just a woman spending time with a man who keeps looking at me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve.

"You're quiet," Fox says as we wander down a path that winds along the shoreline. "Second thoughts about spending the day with me?"

"Just enjoying the view." I gesture toward the water, but his eyes don't follow my hand. They stay fixed on my face.

"It is pretty spectacular," he agrees, and the heat in his gaze makes me look away.

We find a bench overlooking the sound, watching boats cut white trails through the blue. Our shoulders almost touch, and I'm hyperaware of the inches between us.

"So," he says after a comfortable silence. "You mentioned your sister's been through a rough breakup. What about you?"

The question hits like a cold wave. "What makes you think I've been through one?"

Fox shrugs. "The way you flinch when I move too fast. How you keep this..." he gestures to the space between us, "careful distance. Like you're waiting for something to go wrong."

"Perceptive," I mutter, annoyed at being so transparent.

"Construction guy, remember? I notice details."

I take a deep breath, surprised to find myself wanting to tell him. "His name was Alan. We were engaged."

Fox doesn't push––he just waits while I gather my thoughts.

"I thought we were happy. Planning the wedding, looking at houses." I laugh, but it comes out brittle. "Turns out he was also planning weekends with his coworker. Six months of my life, planning a future with someone who couldn't even be honest about his present."

"Jesus," Fox breathes. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well. Life lesson learned. Trust your gut, not the person telling you how special you are while texting someone else under the table."

Fox's hand moves toward mine on the bench, then retreats. "Not everyone's like that."

"I know that. Logically." I watch a seagull dive into the water. "But logic doesn't always win against experience."

"Fair enough."

I glance at him, expecting to see pity, but there's only understanding in his eyes. It makes me brave enough to admit,"The worst part isn't even the cheating. It's that I didn't see it coming. I used to think I was good at reading people, and now..." I shrug. "Now I second-guess everything. Everyone. It's exhausting."

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