Faith couldn’t be happier. She knew Scott well enough to understand what he was saying. He trusted that Casey was going to follow through. He believed she’d be better. It was a huge gesture, given the fact that he’d almost gone through with a divorce, and it showed how much he wanted it to all work out. Scott clearly loved Casey, and Faith knew, after spending time with Casey this week, that her sister loved Scott just as much.
Nan put her hand to her heart and looked down at Isabella. She was thinking the same thing that had just entered Faith’s mind: Isabella had her daddy back. As Isabella colored, making small talk with Nan, wriggling around on her knees and sipping her milk, she didn’t realize the magnitude of what Scott had just said. Isabella would never again awaken in the night and not have her father.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Casey said, holding up her drink. “To family. May we have many more days like this one in our future.”
“Hear, hear!” Nan said, holding up her water. She motioned for Isabella to put her cup of milk into the air. Isabella was more than happy to follow her lead. She raised her drink—a paper cup with a plastic lid and a red and white striped straw. Nan touched hers to Isabella’s. “Cheers, my dear,” she said with a smile. They all followed, and then settled into the kind of chatter that only families have. It was great to have everyone together, but, to her surprise, it made Faith think about Jake. If only he could be there with them. She wished he were.
TWENTY-ONE
Faith was giddy with excitement but a little apprehensive at the same time. Today was her date with Jake. He’d asked her out, and that made her so happy that her hands were shaking. But she kept thinking about how things could change in a second whenever they brought up the elephant in the room. She really didn’t know how they were going to get over that hurdle, but she knew she wanted to give it another shot. She touched her lips, remembering what it felt like to kiss him. Even though they’d only been apart a day, she missed him. With her handbag on her shoulder, she waved to her mom and Nan on her way out of the cottage and tried to focus on the thrill of seeing him.
She waited outside, this time standing so she wouldn’t soil her linen trousers. The sun was so bright in the cloudless sky that she slipped her sunglasses on to avoid squinting. She didn’t have to wait long. Jake was soon pulling up in the Mercedes. He got out, the engine still running, walked around the car, and opened her door for her.
“Good morning,” he said with a grin as she slid inside.
“Good morning,” she returned, pulling her feet in. He shut the door and went around to his side of the car.
They drove down Beach Road, the sand blowing across it, the ocean hidden behind the dunes on Jake’s side of the car. She pretended to be waiting for a break to get a glimpse of the morning tide, but really, she was sneaking glances at Jake. He was clean-shaven today, his dark hair showing golden strands from days in the sun. She could see the crease on his cheek from smiling, and it warmed her. He smiled all the time.
“I know you like understated places, and you’re not up for a lot of glitz and glamor. But today, since it’s adate, I wanted to take you to a different beach—one of my favorites. It’s a little fancier than what you’re used to though. Tell me you’ll humor me.”
“Okay. Is it far from here?” She was very curious.
“Not terribly.”
He turned on to an exit leaving the Outer Banks and headed across the bridge toward the nearby town of Manteo.
“Are you hungry?”
“I’ve had breakfast.”
“Great. Me too.” He looked over at her, his eyes wanting to take her all in like they had that day on the boat—she could tell—but he quickly turned back to the road.
“What beach is it?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“It’s a surprise,” he smiled, and her stomach did a flip. Faith loved surprises. She just hoped it wouldn’t be a disaster like the Tides. She knew him a little better now, though, and she’d be able to talk to him if she felt uncomfortable.
As they drove, they were getting farther away from the coast, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where he was going, but then they snaked back around, and, after quite a few minutes’ drive, she realized she was at Dare County Municipal Airport. Jake turned the silver Mercedes into a parking spot and cut off the engine. On the runway was a small, white private jet, the steps lowered, awaiting passengers.
“We aren’t driving to this beach,” he said.
Jake greeted the pilot as they stepped up to the plane. They were talking a bit about the flight path, but Faith didn’t hear them. She was too busy looking at the gorgeous aircraft in front of her. She’d never been flown anywhere on a date before, let alone traveled on a private jet.
The pilot gestured for them to head inside, and he followed, taking his seat behind a door at the front. Faith couldn’t decide what to look at first—the beaded lighting behind a ledge outlining the top of the plane, the tan leather interior, the wood-grain tables with brass cup holders, the thinly carpeted floors in matching beige, or the televisions throughout. A silver bucket filled with ice sat on one of the tables, the neck of a bottle protruding from its center. Two crystal glasses sat beside it.
“Is this your plane?” she asked as they took a seat on either side of the table and belted themselves.
“No. I rented it, but I’ve flown with the pilot many times. I always make sure to get Thomas when I fly. I trust him.” The pilot came over the speaker and greeted them. He then said the skies were clear without a lot of turbulence, and he’d get them to their destination as quickly as possible. “You may want to hold on to your glass just until we’re in the air. It’s fine, but I’d rather not spill anything on you.”
Jake looked so relaxed as if this was totally normal, and she wondered if he was really comfortable with all of this. He had so much money that he could rent a jet whenever he pleased, drink champagne first thing in the morning, and fly wherever he wanted to go. Yet he chose to have his primary residence on the rural coast of North Carolina where he’d grown up. He was so down-to-earth that when he did show his wealth, it was startling.
When they got into the air, he pulled the champagne from the ice and wiped it with a towel. “We should be there in about two hours,” he said, the cork making a loud, hollowpopas he pulled it from the bottle. “That gives us a lot of time to talk.” He reached out for her glass, and she handed it to him.
As he filled her glass, the bubbles nearly jumping out of the top of it and dissipating in the air above, she got a good look at Jake Buchanan. In this setting, pouring champagne, wearing his Lacoste shirt and pressed shorts, his hair perfectly imperfect, his wealth was apparent. This was certainly a far cry from his paint-splattered overalls and tool-filled work truck. Which was more him: that work truck or this plane? She was willing to bet it was the work truck.
Even though she knew he probably didn’t care, she was glad she’d worn her most expensive outfit.
She took a sip from her glass, the bubbles fizzing up against her top lip, to try and calm her own nerves. Then, she decided to ask him. “What do you enjoy more: working on cottages and driving your work truck around town or flying to exotic destinations like we are now?”
