We climbed back into the truck and drove home. Harbor lights twinkled in the rearview, the gala’s glossy advertisement lingering like a shadow in my mind.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rhett took the long way down Harbor Street. The chilly salt air swept through the cab as I stared out past the sidewalk, an ocean of calm water winking silver back at me. Seaglass Beach was almost completely empty, save for a few couples walking along the shoreline.
I cast him a sidelong glance, the motion whipping a loose curl across my face and reminding me of the moment I was trying to forget.
But that was the problem: Rhett Briggs was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. Not because of our run-ins or because he still had my dining set in his workshop. The more I was around him, the harder it was to lie to myself about the fact that I knew what I wanted.Hewas what I wanted.
And yet, finally admitting it to myself made the facts no less painful.
Turning away, I let my arm hang out the window, sleeve billowing in the wind. Anything to keep from looking at him.
The temperature dropped each day, the sun setting earlier and earlier. Normally, that change sent a thrill through me as the holidays crept closer. Autumn turned red and amber, the air sharp enough to make me cling tighter to a cup of cider.
No matter the weather, Christmas in Bluebell Cove always glowed a little brighter than any other time of year. The garland draped across Main Street and the eight-foot tree in the town plaza glittered with color—come rain, snow, or shine.
But this year, I couldn’t stop thinking about who wouldn’t be there. I could almost see it—Main Street shining, the plaza tree flickering gold. But the faces faded: Margot, Wes, Serena. Even Rhett. Ghosts of Christmases past, and of futures that never found their way.
As the truck pulled left onto Maple Street, I began counting the seconds until I’d be back home. Part of me resisted the week slipping by; after all, the town still had a festival to pull off. But the other half—the sensible one—knew that if I blinked and it was over, and he was gone, I’d finally be rid of this dread pressing on my shoulders.
Rhett pulled to a stop in front of my house, the lamp post outside shining an orange glow across the cab.
“Well, this is me,” I said stupidly, popping the door open.
He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, rested his forehead on it for a moment, and then swung the driver’s side door open. “Let me walk you to your door,” Rhett replied.
My pulse leapt so fast it felt like my throat couldn’t contain it. “You don’t have to.”
But he was already on my side of the truck, holding the door open so I could climb out. Our eyes met as my sneakers hit the curb. We quickly looked away. I snatched my backpack from the floorboard and tried not to trip on the cobblestones.
Rhett followed me through the gate, my weak excuse for a garden, and up the porch steps. Heat crawled up my neck as mykey scraped uselessly at the lock, unable to meet his insistent gaze while I shoved it in the lock and begged it to work the first time.
The unlatching click was music to my ears. I let out a ragged sigh and looked up at him with my best smile.
“Thank you,” I murmured, one palm on the handle. “For everything. Driving me to Port Camden, buying me food—which youdidn’thave to do, by the way.”
“You tell me that a lot,” he replied and crossed his arms.
“What?”
“That I don’thaveto do things.”
“Oh, I—” I cleared my throat and leaned my back against the door. “Well, you’ve done a lot for me… Everett.” His full name felt nice on my lips.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Because I wanted to. Do you know why?”
He stepped closer. Dipped his chin. My pulse thundered, traitorous and loud. I silently begged him not to say it. I wasn’t sure I could survive him leaving if he did.
“Because you’re nice?” I squeaked pathetically.
Rhett smiled. “No, because—”
Just then, as if he could hear my mental pleas, Easton began barking on the other side of the door. The invisible cord snapped, and Rhett took a step backward, dragging a hand through his hair as he sucked in a long breath.
“Guess he missed me,” I tried to joke, wincing as his bark turned into a howl. “Thank you, Rhett. Truly.”
He nodded, eyes on the porch as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Marigold’s will be ready for business the day after tomorrow.”
