Page 12 of Nights at Seaside
“Don’t be sorry for feeling something. That’s the world’s great separator—those who feel and react to their feelings and those who cower from them.”
“Sawyer…” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, but everything he said touched her profoundly, as if he’d climbed into her head and taken notes about the way she saw things.
“Sorry. I know I have a strange view on things.” He set his hand on her leg and shifted his eyes to the brook.
She reached for his hand. “If it’s strange, then I’m strange, too, because it’s exactly how I see things. I just worried that I was overwhelming you. You know…” She smiled and shrugged. “TMI and all that.”
“After dealing with my father’s illness, I’ve learned that there isn’t much that can overwhelm me.” He held her gaze. “And certainly not anything having to do with emotions.”
She sighed with relief. “I’ve dated a few guys who didn’t really get me.” She fidgeted with the edge of her shirt. “From my choice of clothing to the way I live my life.”
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Kind of like your father’s ‘Race of the Pebble’ poem, I guess.Fluid beauty rushing, rippling. Needful and overflowing.Not the beauty part, but feeling like I’m moving through life and accepting it as it comes, just sort of soaking it all in. I don’t stress over what could be or over making a ten-year plan. I live life for now, and if I’m happy with what I’m doing and the people I’m spending my time with, then life is good. If I’m not,thenI’ll reevaluate.”
He touched her cheek and said, “I know exactly what you mean,includingthe beauty part.”
He gazed at her for a long moment, and she felt the warmth of him flowing through her veins—and ached for another kiss.
When he gazed back at the brook, he said, “You know how the herring are thick when they run upstream and they churn the brook as they jump the concrete steps toward the pond?”
There was something so soothing about his voice that it quieted Sky’s desire for that kiss, filling another part of her—a part she couldn’t pinpoint and hadn’t realized was also longing to be touched.
“When my father was penning that poem, he said to me,Son—he always calls me that, never calls me by name—see more than others see. Be more than others are. You’re too interesting to be single layered. Too many people go through life seeing only what they expect. They view life waiting to be heard, rather than listening and seeing what others do not.” Sawyer’s eyes warmed as he turned toward Sky.
“He taught me how to accept everything, from my range of emotions to differing lifestyles and opinions. He looked beyond the miraculous way the herring managed to make their way upstream and saw the pebbles below that were being tossed and turned from the herring’s movements. And he spoke of the pebbles as if they were alive. I think he taught me to think of everything that way—as if it were alive.”
He gazed up at the star-studded sky, and she saw his Adam’s apple jump as he swallowed whatever memories made him grow silent.
“I promised you dinner. We should probably go.” He pulled her in close again.
He was more than a head taller than her, and with the moonlight at his back, he looked even more handsome than he had when she’d first seen him at Governor Bradford’s. Sky knew it was because he’d shared so much of himself with her that his looks moved to the background and his emotions filled the space between them. She’d never met a man who opened up so easily. She’d thought that she and Blue were as close as two friends could get, but it had taken a few weeks until they shared these types of intimate conversations—and even then they felt like they rode the surface compared to her conversation with Sawyer. She was a little overwhelmed by the sense of feeling like she knew him so well after just a few hours.
“Thank you,” he said, as he tipped her chin up and gazed into her eyes.
“For?”
“For reminding me of some of the best moments in my life. I hadn’t forgotten them, but I hadn’t revisited them in so long that I had almost forgotten how special they were.”
He drew her close again and held her. His heart beat against her cheek, and despite wanting to kiss him again and again and again, she reveled in this moment of closeness.
Chapter Four
SAWYER AND SKY ordered lobster rolls at a walk-up restaurant on the Provincetown pier and ate while sitting on the beach. The sand was cool and the breeze coming off the water was brisk, but when Sawyer touched Sky’s hand, her skin was warm. They talked for a long while, and he realized that they both enjoyed similar styles of music—ranging from Top 40 to country and jazz, and they both hated sauerkraut, mustard, and mullets, which they shared a laugh over as they lay back on the beach, their sides touching, and gazed up at the stars.
“Do you ever wonder how different your life might be if just one element had been altered?” Sky asked.
“Like if I hadn’t gone into boxing?”
She turned to face him, her eyes wide. “You’re aboxer?”
“I didn’t mention that?” Sawyer wasn’t surprised that she didn’t recognize him. Not just because she probably didn’t follow boxing, but because he’d never accepted any offers for sponsorships. The idea of having his face plastered over a billboard selling boxing equipment or pushing certain clothing lines or energy drinks had always turned him off. Sponsorships were for guys whose egos needed stroking. The only stroking Sawyer’s ego required was done by his own competitive nature to be the best. Winning his boxing matches was all the notoriety he needed—and if it had come without a belt, he wouldn’t have cared. He’d have trained just as hard, fought just as tough, to know in his own head that he was the best fighter in his division. And it was that determination that would secure his father’s financial future.
“No,” Sky said. “I would have definitely rememberedthat.”
The distaste in her tone surprised him. Usually women went crazy over his career.
“I’m sorry if I didn’t mention it.” He pushed up on one elbow so he could look into her beautiful, though wary, eyes.
