"They wanted to make it legal," I said. "I married them again. This time, I did it in the middle of mykitchen."
"Knowing how you react when people show up at your house uninvited," Cole mused, "you must really likeweddings."
"Only certain weddings," I replied. "I only marry people I can see staying together for the long haul. I've passed on officiating for folks who didn't seem right for each other, or ready for the commitment. The ones who just want a party. The ones who need something to do. The ones who think it's the next milestone they should check off in their life. I don't want to be associated with any marriages that end, youknow?"
"Does that mean you believe everyone has alobster?"
"Awhat?" Iasked.
"You know, a lobster," Cole said, laughing. "From that episode ofFriends. Lobsters mate for life, and they walk around holdingclaws—"
"Lobsters do not mate for life," I argued. "Female lobsters take turns with the dominant male in a givenarea."
"Huh. That's a very different type of relationship than the one I'd imagined," he said, his brow wrinkling. "That pokes some holes in mytheory."
"Setting aside biology for a minute, I do believe it," I said. "Everyone has a lobster, but you have to haul up a lot of empty traps before you findit."
"Isn't that half the fun?" Cole asked with asmirk.
"If you had to estimate," I started, reaching for my beer, "how many broken hearts did you leave back inCalifornia?"
Cole rocked back with laughter. "I don't need to estimate," he said. "It'szero."
"Oh, great. You're one of those assholes who doesn't even realize he's beaten the shit out of someone's heart," I replied. "That doesn't bode well forme."
"I am not one ofthoseassholes," he said, still laughing. "I'm an entirely different breed of asshole. The kind who works too much and never has time for relationships. After a while, not having time for relationships turns into forgetting how to be in relationships. Then that turns into forgetting how to speak to people who don't work for you. Not long after reaching that point, your virginity grows back and you start researching the monastic approach tolife."
"Or sailing to Maine?" Iasked.
"Well, yes," Cole replied with hesitance. "But I took to the water because I needed time away from my business. Things weren't going well. No, that's not accurate. The business is strong, reallystrong—"
"I've seen your boat, babe," I replied, my tone right on the edge of salty and surly. "You also offered me thirty grand to stay in my nine-by-nine guest room. You don't have to pull out your earningsstatement."
"All fair points." He nodded to himself before continuing, "But now you have me wondering. How many broken hearts do you have to yourname?"
"I don't do hearts," I lied. "My history is of the no-stringsvariety."
Cole stared at me for a long beat, his gaze inscrutable. "I'm not sure I believe that," he said. "You bring fish to nursing homes. You drive yourself crazy with budgets and regulatory guidance for the town council. You ask after Fitzy's son when everyone else avoids the topic. You marry the innkeepers because they don't have any family. You take in lost sailors even when they fuck up your nights." He shook his head. "You're all heart, Bartlett. Allstrings."
"Maybe," I conceded. "But I haven't broken anyone's heart. I'm certain ofit."
"Not yet," Cole replied. "You seem like the kind of guy who would have a dog. You're the grumpiest motherfucker I've ever met but that crusty shell only hides a sweet, gooey center. Like crème brûlée. So, tell me. Why don't you have adog?"
"I did," I said softly, glancing down with an aching sigh. "I did, and she was the best dog in the world. Sheilagh. She was the bestgirl."
"Oh," he murmured. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought itup."
"It's okay." I shook my head and looked away. "She lived a long life, and she really was the best girl. Before the arthritis took her legs, she loved coming on the boat with me every day. She loved the water. She'd run up and down the deck, barking at the seagulls. I knew…I knew when it was time. I just didn't have the strength to put herdown."
"I'm sure." Cole reached across the table and took my hand. "That must have been a difficulttime."
I shrugged. "She loved catching rays at the lighthouse. She'd lie down in front every afternoon, when the sun was rightoverhead."
He regarded me for several moments, his hand warm over mine and his eyes crinkled with concern. "It's a nice spot," hesaid.
"I left her at the house when I went out on the water one day," I continued, "and when I got home, I couldn't find her. Then I knew. I knew she went to the lighthouse, and—and she was gone." I gulped down a knot of emotion. "She didn't want to be a bother to anyone. She wanted to nestle into her favorite spot on a sunny day and close hereyes."
Cole's hand retreated, and he scooted out of his side of the booth. He came around the table, settled beside me, and brought his arm around my shoulders. "Owen," he whispered. "I'm sosorry."
