Page 132 of Here & There

Mac glares at me. “I never said anything about running.”

“I think we could work on him a bit more,” I whisper to Angus.

He cackles for a second time in as many minutes. “I like this one, son. She’s a keeper.”

When we get home, all I want to do is spend the last of our couple of hours relaxing with Mac—I’ve been going non-stop since Vancouver. Then, when Nate gets home, we’ll tell him about us over dinner.

Nerves skitter in my stomach over that, but I don’t think he’ll be too concerned. Kids are sharp, Deanie reminded me when I saw her. She’s got a boatload of younger brothers thanks to her father’s second marriage. The oldest is only a few years younger than us, but the youngest is in kindergarten.

She’s right. Nate might already have an idea of what’s happening.

When we reach the door, Mac picks up a pile of mail on the stoop. He frowns at a big manila envelope at the top of the stack. “It’s addressed to you,” he says.

I frown. “Who do I know who has this address?”

“Probably someone local. It was hand delivered.”

As I take the envelope—which is recycled—there’s a piece of masking tape over the old address, with my name written in sharpie on top. Suddenly my stomach flips, excitement bubbling in my chest.

“Oh my God,” I say, pulling out the papers inside. It’s a thick stack, and even though I’m pretty sure I know what it is, I’m still on pins and needles until I pull it out.

On top is a painting of an older woman, her hair in soft gray curls, a sweet smile on her face.

“Hey, that’s Mrs. Green,” Mac says.

He meets my eyes in a flash, understanding dawning. “Wait, was this?—”

“Stu!” I shriek. I flip through the rest. There are a few more of Marie, plus some other portraits, including one of Fred on the boardwalk, eating her favorite grilled cheese sandwich.

I explain my plan to Mac, and I swear to God the look that man gives me is one of wonder.

“You’re really going to kick my ass with this opening, aren’t you?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we head inside.

“Why would you ever doubt me?” I laugh, leaning in on the man I love.

Chapter 32

Shelby

The party hasn’t even started, and the Rusty Dinghy is exploding with people, music, and balloons.

I’ve just finished what feels like my hundredth conversation and need a breather, so I stroll to the standing bar on the patio to look out on the beach. It’s a gorgeous sunny afternoon, and the early summer weather is supposed to continue all weekend. The beach is covered with sunbathers of all ages and configurations, and the happy cries of children intermingle with the music of the bar, but also all the tents and food trucks parked along the boardwalk.

Mac wasn’t kidding that this is the biggest weekend of the year for the business. Stu and Nate are working the door and have had to turn several people away due to fire code limits. Stu wanted to avoid the event altogether, but when Cal got called away overseas for one of his clients last week, he reluctantly agreed. Turns out he makes a great bouncer. He loves telling people to get lost.

We told Nate about us last week. He shrugged, but I saw the little twitch of a smile on his face as he turned away.

Over the past week, I’ve started migrating to Mac’s room upstairs, and he’s taken that in stride too, though he makesa point of showing us he’s putting on his noise-canceling headphones every night, which is slightly awkward.

A broad hand spreads across my back now, and I look up to find Mac looking like an absolute snack in his crisp white T-shirt and matching ball cap, both of which are printed with the new Rusty Dinghy logo.

“Hey!” I exclaim, all the exhaustion I let settle in as I walked out here vanishing at the sight of him.

“Hey, Ponytail,” Mac says, leaning in and kissing me on the temple.

“I thought we were moving on from that nickname,” I say, laughing.

“I can’t help it when you wear one,” he says. “So fuckin’ sexy.”

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