Page 72 of Nights at Seaside
“Hi, Dad. Guess where I am?” The silence stretched so long that Sawyer wondered if his father had heard him. He was used to long stretches of silence, but this one felt interminable—he realized that it probably felt that way because he was bursting at the seams to get his thoughts out.
“The…gym?” his father finally answered.
“No, Dad. The skycap. The ramp is done. It’s beautiful, and I can’t wait to bring you up here to look out over the water. I was thinking about the times you brought me up here and told me about the walks you took with your father and grandfather.”
“Good…times.”
Sawyer smiled. “Yes, they were.” His throat swelled with the reality that one day these phone calls might be impossible, too. “Dad, I’m sitting here looking out over the bay, and I’m thinking about the future—and the past. I want to do something with you, Dad. Something of our own.”
“Anything…son.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the tears that threatened. “Thank you, Dad.” His voice was so thick with emotion he didn’t recognize it. He cleared his throat to try to regain control of his emotions and said, “I want to write with you, Dad. I know you haven’t written in years, and I know you don’t want to write and that I’m not as good with words as you are. But, Dad, I want to bring our voices together in a poem, or a song, or both. Whatever you’re willing to do, I want to do this together. I want something that we can have forever, that I can share with my children, and…” He realized he was rambling and paused again to regain control. “Dad, it would mean the world to me if you would consider doing this with me.Forme.”
His father was quiet for so long he wondered if he’d pissed him off. A full minute or two later he heard the speakerphone click off, and his mother’s emotional voice came on the line.
“Honey?”
“Mom, did I push him too hard? Is he upset with me?”
“No, honey. He’s just too overcome with emotion to talk.”
Sawyer closed his eyes against new tears vying for release.
“Sawyer?”
“Yes, Mom?”
She lowered her voice and said, “Thank you. Thank you so very much.”
Chapter Twenty
AS THE SUN kissed the horizon, the last of its warm peach rays rippling across the dark sea, Sky wrapped her arms around Sawyer’s waist and leaned her head on his chest. The brisk evening air whipped against her legs as they sailed toward Monomoy Island.
“Two whole days alone, Sawyer. No customers, no painting, no building ramps, no tattoo guns, no sparring.” They decided to anchor at Monomoy for the night so they wouldn’t have to worry about other boat traffic.
He tipped up her chin and the wind whipped her hair across her cheek. They both laughed as he pressed his lips to hers right through the whipping strands. “No flashing vibrators, no sneaking out to go chunky-dunking.”
“Who needs vibrators when I have you?” She zipped up her hoodie.
“Just what I wanted to hear.” He kissed her again, moaning a little in pleasure as he tugged her in closer. “I still can’t believe I have you all to myself for two days. Whatever will I do with you?”
She raised her brows in quick succession. “Considering that nothing is going to come between me and my man, I’d say anything you want.” Sky liked the waymy manfelt as it slid from her tongue. He was the man she thought about when she woke up in the morning and the man she fantasized about when they were apart. He was the man who had shared her bed every night for days on end and the only man she hoped to wake up to from that day forward.
Sawyer’s eyes warmed. “I like the sound of that.”
She watched him steer the boat closer to the island. His movements were graceful and determined at once, swift and virile. His biceps flexed deliciously as he set the anchor and brought down the sails. The boat rocked with the current, a gentle, comforting motion that produced soothing sounds of water slapping against the sides of the boat as the rim of the sun dipped beneath the horizon, giving way to the hazy glow of night.
“I always forget how dark it gets at sea,” Sky said as her eyes adjusted.
“Not to worry, sweetheart. The moonlight will be enough.” He sat on the cushioned bench and pulled Sky down onto his lap. As he tucked her hair behind her ear, his eyes rolled over her face with a tender gaze.
“I can’t believe you’re really going to write with your dad. I’m so excited to see what my favorite poet and my favorite person come up with.”
“Your favorite person?” A serious look hovered in his eyes.
“Yes, of course.” She pressed her lips to his, and he smiled. “I thought you didn’t want to do anything more with your songs than use them as a hobby and that your father was done writing. What changed your mind? What changed his?”
“Sky, I haven’t slowed down much over the years to think about anything other than fighting. My life has been a circle oftrain, fight, win.” He paused and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “And then came you.”
