Sully Bay used to be a serious fishing village, a lot like Bar Harbor. Its trade in lobsters, crabs, and fish practically built the town.
Over the past fifty years, it’s pivoted toward tourism as Acadia started drawing bigger crowds, becoming a bucket for the spillover summer crowds.
We turn a corner, coming up to a large wooden rowboat hung on hooks—and come face-to-face with Lee What’s-His-Face.
The ceramics guy from the market.
He breaks into a lazy smile when he sees us.
“Oh, hello,” he says, holding up his hand casually. “Nice to see some familiar faces.”
“Lee, right?” Margot beams right back at him, oblivious to the way I’ve tensed.
Stupid animal jealousy.
After last night, his chances of bedding her are nil, if they ever existed at all.
I know I shouldn’t even let the thought invade my mind.
We’re having a family outing in an old fishing museum, for fuck’s sake, not dancing in a bar.
“That’s right. Good memory.” Lee gives her a nod that makes me bristle. “Are you enjoying my products?”
“Oh, yes, they’re stunning. We’re using the mugs already, aren’t we, Kane?”
“Yeah.” Now I wish I’d left them wrapped up. I don’t take my eyes off the guy, though my voice is friendly. “They’re great for coffee and hot cider. Very sturdy.”
“Are you big into fishing or history?” Margot asks.
“This place? Yes, I suppose.” Lee rubs the back of his neck. “Honestly, I like to come here for the sea glass more than anything. There’s a lot of inspiration there, especially when you don’t see glasswork like it anymore. Bit of a history buff, too, I guess.”
“I wish that was me,” Margot says with a sigh. “But after a little while, it just goes in one ear and out the other. I like having the big picture more than the nitty-gritty. And yes, the sea glass is lovely. I can see why this place would make any artist happy.”
“We find our muse where we can, Miss Blackthorn. There’s so much beauty everywhere, if people would just open their eyes and look, instead of getting it from screens.” His voice sharpens, even if his smile remains pleasant enough.
Huh.
And he keeps looking at me while he talks to her, like he’s expecting me to say something profound.
I don’t get it.
The weirdness only deepens the urge to pull Margot forward and leave him to his day.
Must just be the testosterone still whipping around my veins from last night. Hormones will make a man hallucinate, jumping at threats that aren’t really there.
I always had a possessive streak, yeah, but not like this.
Always figured Daria desensitized me with her shit. I mean, how jealous can you get once you’ve been with a woman who isn’t faithful?
Turns out, it’s plenty, if the molten heat in my blood’s any indication.
“We’re here for the kids. The school year just started and they need to learn something on this trip for homework,” I say, nodding at where Dan and Sophie are pressed up against a glass case with shells and preserved sea animals.
“Ah, good.” Lee draws the word out. “There’s plenty of that around here. But if it’s history you’re after, there’s an old fort just a few miles up the road. Goes back to the War of 1812, I believe. Really impressive cannons. Your boy will love it. You shouldn’t miss it.”
“Cannons?” Dan immediately turns and runs up to us. “Did you say a fort, mister? Can we check it out, Dad? Please?”
Sophie drifts back toward us when she hears her brother pleading.
