She stood and swung her coat on. “I told you to go home.”
“Well, maybe I will.”
I didn’t want to stay here and talk about Ryder any more, and I was pretty sure that was all Jean would want to do.
“What about me?” Jean asked.
“You get to stay and cover Roy’s shift just like you wanted to,” I said.
“Fine. But the donuts stay.”
Chapter 33
MY HOUSE was north of the station. I drove that way through the neighborhoods instead of the main street, weaving between yards peppered with tiny bungalows, rough-hewn cabins, and shiny new condominiums.
It would be easy to go home. It would be easy to rest, to take a few days off.
I had certainly earned it.
But I soon found myself driving out of town, north, just north, the road twisting against hills and fields, the ocean rolling deep and endless to my left. Towns even smaller than Ordinary huddled along the edges of the road, frequent and then fewer as more and more road stretched between them.
I found solace in the road, in the drive, the sound of the engine, the light and shadow of sunlight through trees soothing all my raw edges, inside and out. I tried not to think of Ryder.
All I thought about was Ryder.
Soon buildings were replaced by signs that pointed to rivers, trailheads, and campgrounds.
When the sign to Netarts came into view, I turned left toward the tiny community pressed up against the bay.
Curly’s was a chocolate-colored cedar shake one-story beach house with frothy white trim that perched at the highest end of a wide parking lot ending on a narrow beach and a couple boat ramps. The ice cream store had expanded by adding a barbecue smoker on the side porch, and the painted wooden sign declared desserts, espressos, and sandwiches were now served.
I smiled and got out of the Jeep. It was almost noon, and the day looked like it was going to warm up nicely.
Perfect day for ice cream.
I walked up the wooden stairs and across the covered porch. I stepped into the shop and the cheerful server, a young woman who didn’t know me, my job, my town, or my crazy life, guided me over to a table by the window.
I took the chair that put my back to the door and let me stare out over the bay and the ocean and blue sky beyond.
I ordered ice cream first because life is unpredictable. After that, I settled in for a sandwich. Since the shop wasn’t too busy, I ordered a coffee and let time drift as I stared out at the sand and sky and ocean and didn’t think about Ryder.
Much.
“Mind if I join you?”
I hadn’t expected anyone to find me here. My heart tumbled hard against my ribs, pumping out a flood of feelings too tangled to name.
“Ryder,” I said, my voice almost a whisper. “I don’t think I can do this here.”
“Do what?” he asked quietly. “Have dessert with me?”
I looked up at him. He wore a soft T-shirt and worn jeans, his work boots traded in for a pair of running shoes. His dark hair was mussed from the wind, hazel eyes almost gold in this light. He stood with his weight on one foot, as if uncertain that I would tell him to stay or to go.
He held a caramel sundae in one hand, his other hand tucked in his back pocket, leaving his elbow out at an awkward angle. He used to stand that way in high school when he had to read in front of the class.
“Did you follow me?”
“No. I just thought…” He glanced out the window, and something like sadness passed over his features. “I just thought you might be here. You told me you missed it. Missed this. I saw you leave town. So maybe. Maybe yes, I followed you. I almost didn’t, but then… Maybe I should go.”
