Page 60 of A Shore Fling
“You’re friendly and kind. You ask questions and notice things. This place can get a little stuck in its ways, and you’ve shaken it up a little.”
“Shaken it up how? I shipwrecked a boat, floated away on an inner tube, poisoned the town’s harbormaster, and fell off a bike in front of a church.”
“Poisoning me made you an instant legend with my brothers and friends at the very least.”
She laughs, brushing a stray hair off her cheek. The wind picks it right back up and drags it across her face. I want to reach over and tuck it behind her ear, but I don’t. I just watch her instead, like the awkward teenage boy I thought I left behind over twenty years ago.
She catches me looking and lifts a brow. “What?”
“Nothing.”
She doesn’t press, just turns her gaze back to the water.
We eat the rest of our lobster rolls in a comfortable silence. When we’re done, she leans back against the bench, one knee pulled up.
“I can see how this place burrows so deep inside you that you never want to leave.”
“Yeah, it has a way of doing that.”
“It’s not just the views or the lobster rolls—and let me just say that lobster roll was freaking fantastic. This place is calming. I feel like I can breathe deeper here.”
I nod, because that’s precisely what it is. And hearing her say it makes something in my chest stir. But then I remind myselfshe won’t be one of the people who stay here forever. Her life is waiting for her back in New York City. But I don’t want to think about that right now.
I open the container with our dessert. “Have you ever had a whoopie pie?”
“Nope.”
“Get ready to fall in love.” I hold up the small box, and she takes one of the chocolaty treats. “You’re going to need some napkins.” I hand her a small stack.
She eyes the round pie. “Should I be scared?”
“Only about how addictive they are.”
She raises it to her mouth, taking a tentative taste. Almost immediately she goes back in for a larger bite. “Oh my God.” She hums, her eyes briefly closing. “Where have you been all my life?”
I know what she means.I’m feeling the same, and it has nothing to do with dessert.
We finish the rest of the whoopie pies slowly, savoring them like we’re trying to make the moment last. She licks a smudge of chocolate from her thumb and then settles deeper into the bench, crossing her long legs at the ankles. I try not to ogle the expanse of skin that’s becoming more golden by the hour. Her fingers brush a crumb from her lap, and when she glances over at me, I can’t help noticing a streak of cream near the corner of her mouth.
“Hold still,” I say, leaning toward her. Her brows lift slightly, but she doesn’t move. I reach up and drag the pad of my thumb across the lower edge of her bottom lip, wiping the cream away. The moment stretches, the air between us thickening. Her eyes flick up to mine, and I swear my heart skips a beat.
She doesn’t pull away. Neither do I. There’s a flicker of curiosity in her expression. She’s watching me the same wayI’m watching her. Like we’re both balancing on the edge of something big, and waiting for the other to leap. So I do.
Leaning in slowly, I give her ample time to stop me. She doesn’t. There’s a slight hitch to her breath right before my lips softly brush hers. It’s more of a whisper than a kiss, but she instantly responds, tilting her head and parting her lips under mine. Taking it deeper, my tongue caresses hers while my hands move up to frame her face. Her hand slides up my chest and curves around the back of my neck.
The kiss lasts longer than it should. Long enough that the gulls circling above and the distant sound of kids down by the pier fade into background noise. When we finally break apart, her eyes remain closed for a second, like she’s savoring the moment. Then they flutter open slowly. “Wow. That was…”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, it was.”
Neither of us say anything more. We stay seated on the bench, our arms touching, watching the shifting colors of the sunset and the way they’re reflected on the water.
I don’t even scold myself for kissing her or think about how I shouldn’t have crossed the line. I’m done trying to talk myself out of wanting Nina. It’s too late to put the brakes on my feelings for her. It’s time to accept the inevitable and enjoy whatever time we can have together.
CHAPTER 17
NINA
I’m waiting on the front porch when Travis’ truck pulls into the driveway. I push myself up from the lobster trap chairs that are growing more comfortable the longer I’m here.
