Page 84 of Sergeant O'
“So,” I finally said, twisting the napkin I’d carried all the way home, “what now?”
Brian leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, studying me like the answer was written somewhere on my face. “We could pack up, head back to Haven Springs, and deal with things head-on.”
The thought made my stomach flip. Back to the whispers, the stares, Rachel’s smug smile when she realized she’d stirred up trouble, just like she wanted. “Or,” I said carefully, “we could stay. Finish our time here. Pretend none of this exists outside of here.”
One side of his mouth lifted, but it wasn’t the cocky grin he gave everyone else. It was smaller, softer—like he liked the idea, too.
“I like that idea,” he said. “The world will still be waiting when we get back.”
And just like that, the knot in my stomach loosened a little. It wasn’t a fix, but it was enough.
****
Brian
“I like that idea,” I said. “The world will still be waiting when we get back.”
The cautious look she gave me from where she sat at the little kitchen table suggested she didn’t know if I was serious.
“You sure?” she asked.
I crossed the room and pulled the napkin out of her hands before she shredded it to pieces. “I’m sure.”
That earned me the smallest smile, but it was enough to lift the weight off my chest. I wanted to tell her I didn’t give a damn what Rachel or the whole internet thought, that I’d already decided she was mine. But I didn’t. Not after her reaction at the ice cream parlor when I’d asked to keep seeing her in Haven Springs.
She wanted this to be temporary. Only while we were at the Cape. So, hell yes I was sure I didn’t want to leave.
Maybe ever.
I brushed my thumb over the back of her hand and asked, “So, how do you want to spend tomorrow? Beach again?”
She let out a breath like she hadn’t realized she’d been holding it. “Yeah. Beach sounds good.”
And just like that, we decided to cling to our slice of heaven a little while longer. The other shit could wait.
~~~~
We ended up on the back patio with a bottle of white wine we’d picked up when we’d gone to the grocery store. She was curled up beside me on the cushioned bench, legs tucked under her. The summer night was warm and humid, and a steady breeze coming off the water made a strand of her hair brush against her face.
I tucked it behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her lips.
We didn’t talk about the article. We didn’t talk about what waited for us back in Haven Springs. Instead, we traded stories—her worst day in the ER, my dumbest mistake as a rookie. My most bizarre call, her craziest shift. Our career aspirations. Our laughter came easy, although the wine may have helped.
We were careful, however, to steer clear of the subject of love and kids.
Every time she laughed, I felt it in my chest. And when her eyes softened on me, I knew damn well I was in deeper than I had any business being.
At some point, I slid my hand over hers. She didn’t pull back. She just laced our fingers together, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
When she leaned her head on my shoulder, I turned and kissed the top of her hair.
“Ready to go in?” I asked.
She nodded, and I stood, tugging her up with me. She picked up the empty glasses, and I grabbed the wine bottle, and we headed inside.
She moved toward the kitchen sink, but I put my hand on her arm, motioned toward the counter where she should set them, and said, “Let’s just leave those until tomorrow.”
With a single nod, she did what I suggested, and I grabbed her hand to lead her into the bedroom.
