Page 81 of Second Tide's the Charm
I nod. “Knew you wouldn’t want to share.”
“Smart man.” She shakes out the hoodie with one hand, letting it catch the breeze, and lays it on the sand. She flops down with another don’t-even-think-about-it look at the gull, who cocks its head, beady eye trained on her, but doesn’t budge.
I settle in next to her on the wedge of fabric that she left open for me, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her bare legs, glistening with sweat in the rising heat. I take a bite of muffin to steer my mind toward public-beach-appropriate thoughts.
“Don’t want to wait to eat yours later?” Her eyes are playful. “Might get some sand in your teeth.”
“I think that ship has sailed.”
Her mouth drops open. “Did Adrian Hollis-Parker just utter a nautical pun?” She puts the back of her wrist to her forehead. “Be still my heart, I may just swoon.” And she does, collapsing backward onto the sand, her bare stomach bouncing with laughter.
“A man tries to loosen up and this is what he gets?” I pretend to glare out at the waves, but a smile tugs at my cheeks. Her fingers close around my wrist and she pulls me backward, onto my elbows.
“I like you earnest.”
I gaze down at her. “You do?”
Smiling, she traces her fingertip along my forearm. “I like how you’re stoic in the face of joviality while inside your soul is smiling.”
“You can see into my soul?” I tease, but she nods solemnly.
“I can, and I love what I see.” She goes still and so do I. For a moment, I can’t breathe. She gulps, her trachea bobbing beneath her delicate skin. Then the shadow of a cloud passes overhead and she sits up, rubbing her hands across her arms.
A moment lost. Or maybe it was never there, the imagined glimmer of a fish underwater, an angler’s hope. Was it wishful thinking to believe she was about to say the words I long to hear? She turns to me, lip caught in her teeth, and her eyes have lost their spark. “I have to tell you something.”
My mouth goes dry, the crumb topping gritty in my teeth. I don’t trust my voice, so I merely raise my brows, hoping I look encouraging and not desperately in need of confirmation she’s not having second thoughts.
“I got an interview,” she says. “At the lab in Santa Barbara.”
“With Dr. Oswald? I didn’t even know you’d applied.” I shouldn’t be surprised she hadn’t told me; we only just stopped tiptoeing around each other a few weeks ago.
“I haven’t told anyone but Zuri. And at the time, we weren’t together...” She’s picking at the muffin wrapper, and I hate that she’s nervous to tell me this.
“That’s awesome news.” I reach out to squeeze her knee in reassurance. “When’s the interview?”
She looks over. “You’re okay with it?”
We’re just starting over, and California is far away, but I’ve never asked her not to consider an opportunity for my sake, and I never will. “Of course. I’m thrilled for you.”
She’s still tense, squinting out at the water. “If I get it, the job won’t start until late August. But now that we’re together—” there’s a slight hesitation in her words, like she’s uncertain of us “—I didn’t mean to blindside you with this. Just forgot all about it with all the storm cleanup, and well, you know...” Her smirk tells me I haven’t been the only one fighting to keep my thoughts in check. “But I think it will be a good stepping-stone, and it buys me some more time to figure out where I’ll end up long-term.”
That’s a minefield, and I dodge it with a kiss to her cheek. “I bet you’ll get it.”
“That’s just what you have to say as a boyfriend.”
My lips curve into a smile. “A boyfriend?” I tap my chin. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Oh my gosh, stop.” She huffs out a laugh, then leans against my shoulder. “She is lucky though.”
Sensing she’s let her guard down, the seagull hops closer, and Hope sits bolt upright, on alert. For someone who teases me about my dislike of birds too large for physics, she sure has a thing against seagulls.
She pinches off another piece of muffin. “We can make it work, right? California is far.”
“Do you still want to make it work?” I hold my breath, wondering if this is too much, too soon, for our new relationship.
“With all my heart,” she assures me. “But I’m just worried.” She folds the muffin wrapper in on itself once. Twice. “What if I love it there and end up staying?” I know what she’s asking. Before, we planned to find a place together after we finished our studies. But now I’m established. And if she settles on the other side of the country...
I take her hands in mine, crumbs, sand and all. “Right now, let’s focus on us. Here and now. And when that time comes, we’ll give each other the space to work through it together.” My cautious side is begging me to tread lightly, but I’m done listening. Risking the present for the sake of the future cost me Hope, and that’s not a price I’m willing to pay.
