Page 23 of As a Last Resort
“The one and only!”he responded.My eyes stayed glued to the deck, untying and tying the same rope for the fifth time.“Let me grab this here monstrosity for you and help you right along on board.”He grabbed her suitcase, which really should have been considered cargo freight, and hoisted it onto the boat.
“Those heels there might kill you getting in.No sense in breaking an ankle.”Before I knew what was happening, Patrick picked her up like a baby and hoisted her aboard.
Her breath caught and I couldn’t help but laugh.Oh, he was going to get it.
Once her heels touched the fiberglass of the boat deck, she turned around and glared at him, eyes narrowed as if she could pierce straight through him with her gaze.
“I’ll have you know,Patrick,” she stepped toward him, jabbing his name tag to his chest, “I’m perfectly capable of getting on and off this boat by myself.”
At the same moment, a rogue wave from a Sea-Doo splashed against the side of the boat, rocking it just a bit, tipping her barely off balance and backward.Right into my arms.
“Okay, yeah, sure.”His eyes twinkled.“Maybe getting on and off, just notstandingon the boat.”
“Whoa there.”I hoisted her back on two feet carefully.She smelled like expensive shampoo.“You might want to take them off just for the ride.It can get a little bumpy.”
She looked straight into my eyes and I watched her eyes soften, blink slowly, then narrow.“Austin?”
“Long time no see, Scuttle.”
7
SAMANTHA
The boat pulled in just after sunset with still enough light to make out the familiar shoreline I’d grown up with.Luckily, my first work meeting had been pushed to the next morning so I had the night to settle in and relive all my high school nightmares in private.
It was exactly as I had remembered it.
The Starfish Hotel faced Main Street, its brightly colored bungalows seen from any boat ferrying in.Charley’s Lobster Shack cheerily greeted you from the dock, while its white awnings and picnic tables waved at you from the shore, all basked in the warm glow of the sunset.A small crowd buzzed with their mouths full, chatting over clear plastic cups of cold beer and baskets of fried food.Rosy cheeks, flip-flops and Nantucket Reds, aviators and windswept hair.Shell-paved roads lined the island closest to the water and palm trees were evenly spaced along the sidewalks.
It was charming and quaint.
And gave me a sweeping sense of nausea.
Where people saw a cute mom-and-pop pharmacy, I saw the building I would drag my mom out of when they wouldn’t give her pills.Where people saw a perfect plucked-out-of-a-film-set ice cream store, I saw the metal bench she normally passed out on.This townwas full of memories everywhere, and it dawned on me I hadn’t brought any Xanax.
“Here, let me grab that for you.”Austin reached for my luggage.His arm brushed against mine and the small dusting of blond hair tickled my skin and gave me chills.
“No, it’s okay, I got it.”I struggled to get the rolling suitcase, carry-on, and purse to balance as I walked along the ramp.
I shook my head, scattering the memories that were trying to pour in through the cracks of the fortified dam I had built over the years.Of course, the first person to welcome me to town was Austin.
Austin Marcs.
I had more than a few dedicated pages in my diary pairing my first name with his last—Samantha Marcs—written in pink glitter pen with hearts doodled around it.I’m pretty sure my mom kept the scrapbook I made for our future wedding, chock-full of red roses, puffy silk sleeves, and tulle.
Not that I would ever admit something like that to anyone.I was a lovestruck eight-year-old with a crush on my best friend’s older brother, which happens, like,all the timeso it absolutely officially belongs in the not-a-big-deal-let’s-move-on column.
I made a mental note to burn the diary if I found it while I was here.
But Austin’s baby face looked different, with a five-o’clock shadow that had darkened into something more rugged—closer to a seven-o’clock.His eyes crinkled at the edges and he was sotan.I didn’t know skin cancer could be such a positive thing.He smelled like salt water, too.
I mean, we were on a dock.The water probably smelled like salt water.
Whatever.
“You’re seriously going to break your ankle.”His eyes narrowed.“Drop it.”
I glared back at him and relented.
