Page 41 of Wild Tides
Maybe I should have resented that possessiveness. Except I claimed him right back. The world shifted, settling on its new axis. Where Lee and I were a unit.
And just like that, the air lightened, no longer tight with tension. Lee looked down at me, the corner of his mouth tugging up.
“I’m glad you chose that dress for tonight. It’s absolutely stunning on you. I can’t wait to see what you chose for the Sweetheart’s Dance. If you don’t want to tell me, I need you to call Joe so he can match your corsage.”
Lee was so quiet most of the time, keeping his feelings contained. But he’d gone all out, making a public spectacle of himself to make me happy. The wall I’d erected over the years, as boy after boy and man after man disappointed me, crumbled.
I’d underestimated Lee. I’d thought he was so tied up in his own world, with his make-believe characters, that he was unaware of me most of the time. More interested in fiction than a live woman. But he’d been paying attention. And he had a writer’s ability to plot and plan. I still couldn’t quite believe that he’d set most of this in motion before I stole his laptop.
Had he been as secretly obsessed with me as I’d been with him? I didn’t want to contemplate how much time we’d wasted, if that was the case. I’d felt so alone. And he’d seemed so standoffish, even if I was closer to him than most. Had I missed his cues?
Suddenly, I was eager to get to dinner and have him tell me everything.
Chapter 20 – Lee
Violet’s brown hair fell in waves that caressed her shoulders, creating intriguing shadows I wanted to explore. Candlelight from the restaurant hostess stand caught in the glossy strands, making her look like something I could never deserve. She’d stood at the ferry landing like a glamorous siren, her long gown and generous curves sparkling in the waning light. I’d been rusty as hell on the ukelele, but that hadn’t mattered to her. If making a fool of myself earned her forgiveness, I’d do it again and again until the day I died. Instincts for privacy be damned.
Vi deserved to feel special. Loved. Because everyone around her loved her. She was loyal to a fault. The one you could always call on. She was part of the bedrock of Friday Harbor. Of the Fenwick clan. It’d taken me too damn long to realize that she was also the foundation of my happiness. I’d skated on the outskirts of her life for long enough, enjoying her warmth and friendship. Ignoring my darker impulses.
At first, she’d been too young. Too naïve. Too protected by her brothers. Then she’d seemed just out of reach. Too alive, too friendly and open for the stodgy cynic I’d become.
It had come as a shock that she wanted me. Considered me a worthy playmate. There was no higher honor in her family. Maybe I’d been blind not to see it earlier – her teasing, the way she lingered longer than she had to when helping me. I’d written it off as friendship. Fool that I was.
“What are you plotting behind those pretty blue eyes?” Vi’s expression was indulgent, as if she was used to being something other than the center of my attention.
If only she knew.
I’d almost missed every clue. Sorry thriller writer skills I had there. So observant of everything around me, but I’d forgotten to interrogate the most important suspect: myself.
The hostess seated us at a small table near the window. Vi shivered, and I shrugged out of my jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. My fingers brushed bare skin, the contact scalding, making it difficult to focus on my seat across from her.
Vi’s cheeks flushed a tantalizing pink. She hid her face behind her menu, forcing me to focus on my own.
We placed our order, and the server delivered our drinks, a white wine for Violet and a negroni for me. Sipping the herbaceous cocktail, I savored the roll of licorice across my tongue.
The ghost of our earlier kiss lingered between us. Vi licked her bottom lip, considering me across the table, her expression a mix of wonder and confusion. “Who are you, and what have you done with the Lee Murphy I grew up with?”
“I’m glad I can still surprise you.”
She blinked. “I blew past surprise forty minutes ago. Is Lee Murphy, thriller writer, secretly a romantic?”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Something like pleasure flickered in her chocolate eyes, making me want to trigger that emotion again. Over and over. Preferably while naked.
My ankle twinged, the shadow of pain a reminder that I wasn’t at my best. And Vi deserved my everything. My follow-up with Dr. Underwood might get me out of the boot, but I still had to wait another day for my appointment.
It was difficult to focus on food when Vi sat across from me, all curves and mysterious smiles. I’d wanted this for so long, but now that it was mine, fear prickled sharp under the hunger. What if I screwed this up? What if I proved every one of her brothers right – that I wasn’t good enough for her?
Courses came and went, and I ate mechanically, more aware of Violet than anything else.
By the time dessert arrived, all I wanted was to get her home. Our server set down two mason jars topped with frothy topping. Never really a chocolate person, I dipped my spoon, swirling it around in the whipped cream and cinnamon.
Vi slammed her palm on the table, rattling the silverware. My head shot up, heart pounding. I expected to see revulsion. I braced for disgust or outrage, the kind of reaction you’d expect after smashing some unfortunate insect trying to trespass on her dessert. Instead, bliss softened her eyes. She inhaled, slowly expelling her breath, lips gently parted.
Everything in me tightened.
“Oh. My. God…” Her exclamation was breathy.
