* * *
When Sunny openedthe front door, the sight of her in a red sundress with her hair spilling over her shoulders had me bracing myself on the doorframe. I scowled at that dress while mentally debating whether I could throw out this whole date night plan and lock her in the bedroom until sunrise. Or longer.
“What’s that face all about? What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
I shook my head and flailed to grasp at words. “I’m just—I guess I’m wondering whether you’re ready to go.” I reached out, skimmed my knuckles down the front of her dress. I tugged it down far enough to catch sight of the mark I’d sucked into the side of her breast yesterday. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Oh, is that what you have planned for tonight?”
She smiled and it was like seeing the sun for the very first time. Like everything I thought I knew about warmth and brightness was a half-truth, a delusional fragment of the radiance in front of me. I gripped the doorframe harder. “Yes, but not until later,” I said.
“Hmm.” She eyed my jeans and untucked button-down shirt. Her gaze lingered on the button-fly. “This is cute. I approve.”
“One less thing to worry about.” I leaned in closer. “Do you have a sweater or a jacket?”
She blinked at me. “It’s still in the high eighties. I don’t think I’ll need a jacket.”
“You will where we’re going,” I said.
She laughed. “Which is where?”
I took a step back and then another. Distance would prevent me from doing something ridiculous. “Get that jacket and you’ll find out.”
* * *
Sunny leaned forwardin the passenger seat, peered out the windshield, and then swiveled to face me. “I thought we weren’t going to a place where either of us knows what the inside of the walk-in looks like.”
“We’re not going to SPOC,” I said, tracing a finger over the thin strap of her dress. Too damn tempting.
“Then why are we here?”
I nodded toward the dock. “We’re taking one of the boats.”
Her cheeks rounded as she grinned. “Where are we going?”
“A little place down the bay. It’s small and very under the radar, but I called today and they have vegan and vegetarian items on the menu for you. If you don’t like any of that, they’ve promised they can make something to order,” I said. “If we leave now, we’ll catch the sunset on our way there.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips and leaned back in the seat. A high, giggly squeal sounded in her throat. “This date involves sailing? At sunset? To a restaurant that’s confirmed its plant-based options? My goodness, Beckett Loew. What the hell does a second date with you look like?”
It was as though she’d reached in and closed her fingers around my heart, squeezing along with each beat. It was as terrifying as it was exhilarating because I knew then that she really could rip that heart right out. She could end me and she wouldn’t even have to try that hard.
I exhaled against the pressure in my chest. “You’ll just have to wait and find out.”
We sailed out of the cove and down the bay as the sky turned a bright, endless orange. I tucked Sunny in front of me at the controls and I swallowed a groan every time she leaned into me. Though she’d tied her hair into a bun before casting off, the wind blew some fine tendrils loose and they teased at my jaw and lips. I told her it was like having a jellyfish in my face but we both knew I didn’t mind at all.
When we pulled up to the dock beside this no-name café with only four or five tables and questionable legality, Sunny asked, “Is this a real place or just someone’s backyard?”
Rather than answering that, I said, “I think you’re going to love it.”
“I think I already do,” she said, laughing.
We sat at a wrought iron table that was small enough that I could lean in and count the tiny cinnamon dust freckles on the bridge of her nose. She reached over and straightened my collar. I patted my thigh and motioned for her to rest her feet there. Her smile came gradually, and a little lopsided. The hand around my heart gave a ruthless twist.
I closed one hand around her crossed ankles and gestured to the deskjet-printed menu with the other. “See something you like?”
Nodding, she said, “I think so, yeah.” She took in the courtyard with its hedge of beach rose and sea grasses, the string lights overhead and hand-painted directional sign listing the distances to Block Island, Nantucket, Prince Edward Island, Key West. “How did you find this place?”
“We supply their oysters,” I said. “When my family first moved here and took over the oyster company from my great-uncle Buckthorne, he taught me to sail so I could do the delivery runs. He wanted my dad to do it, but he kept falling off the boat or getting seasick. And my mom loves being on a boat though refuses to learn anything about operating one.”
