She blushes. “It might.”
I lean against the railing beside him and try to act like I’m not panting. “Probably won’t. My wishes never come true.”
River’s grin widens. “I don’t know. I have a feeling about this one.”
Ugh. I feel like jumping off the lighthouse so I don’t have to hear River and Cricket flirting anymore. It’s. So. Cheesy.
After we look out at the ocean for what feels like an eternity with River and Cricket making googly eyes at each other, I start down the steps, and thankfully, Cricket follows.
“Where should we go next?” River asks from behind Cricket.
I clear my throat. “Well, there’s the marina a couple of blocks away. Good views, local fishing boats. Very authentic Willow Shade experience.”
“That sounds perfect,” River says.
As we walk toward the marina, River gestures around at the quaint island streets. “This place has such character.”
“Where are you staying?” Cricket asks.
“The Seaside Inn downtown. Nice old place. I love the architecture.”
I look over my shoulder at him. “There’s a ghost there, you know.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “A ghost?”
Cricket’s eyes light up. I know she loves this story. “Oh, that’s Mrs. Weatherby! She lived in the penthouse suite for like thirty years. She died there. The locals say she only wants to make sure guests are comfortable. If your television turns on in the middle of the night, that’s her.”
“Right,” River says, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced. “Just what everyone needs—a helpful ghost messing with the television.”
“They say you can hear her walking around at night.” Cricket’s face is dead serious. She totally believes in ghosts.
“All right. I’ll listen for her then.” River chuckles, and I wait for Cricket to blast him for not really believing, but she doesn’t say anything.
I turn around and gape at her. She’s smiling at him? Whyisn’t she fighting with him like she does when I tell her the sounds are just the old structure settling?
We reach the marina, and I spot some small stones scattered along the water’s edge, perfect for skipping. Because of the breakwaters, the water in the marina is still enough to skip stones. Levi was the master at it, and I begged him to teach me as a kid. I’ve always envied his talent for it. I’ve practiced a lot, and once I got a rock to skip, like, four times.
“Hey, want to see something cool?” I say, bending down to select a smooth, flat stone. I hope I can repeat my four-skip as I walk to the edge of the water. “Watch me skip this stone.”
Cricket steps closer to me. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
I position myself in relation to the water, pointing. “See, it’s all about the angle and the spin. You want to throw it parallel to the water surface, with a good flick of the wrist.” I demonstrate the motion without releasing the stone. “The physics are actually pretty interesting,” I continue. “It’s about hydrodynamics and surface tension.” At least, that’s what Levi told me.
River nods politely. “Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”
Cricket slaps my back. “Micah’s good at everything.”
That makes me smile. Does she really think that? I draw my arm back and release the stone with what I think is perfect form. It hits the water and immediately plunks straight down with a pathetic splash.
“Huh,” I say, staring at the spot where my stone disappeared. “That was… weird. Must have been a bad stone.”
River chuckles. “Mind if I try?” He casually picks up a stone without even examining it closely.
“Sure,” I say, confident that an actor from the city won’t know the first thing about stone skipping.
River seems to barely aim before flicking his wrist. The stone sails across the water, skipping six times before finally disappearing in the distance.
“Nice one,” Cricket says, clearly impressed.
