‘What does this mean for you?’
‘Are you asking me whether I’m moving back to L.A. too?’
I nodded, wiped, checked, continued. Held my breath.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not. I have no desire to go back there.’
I exhaled again. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. It’s just not me. Never was. I didn’t realize that though, until I moved here. This place makes me feel, I don’t know. More optimistic about the state of the world, I guess.’
‘Careful, you’re venturing into Hallmark territory again.’
‘Is that so bad?’
‘I suppose not.’ I sat up, wiped for the final time. ‘There. All done.’
He sat up and flexed his arm in the mirror. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘I’m glad you’re happy with it.’ I pulled off my gloves.
‘I am. I love it.’ He made eye contact with my reflection. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ I dipped my finger into a tub of Aquaphor, then reached out and gently touched his skin where he now wore my design permanently with him. I rubbed it gently. ‘You’ll need to wash it with mild soap at least twice daily until it heals, and apply this afterwards. I’ll give you a small pot, so you can do it at home. I’m going to cover it, and you’ll need to keep it covered for a few days.’
‘I think I can manage that.’
‘I’ll be watching.’
‘Is that a promise?’ His eyes bored into mine intensely, his tone still jovial but with an undercurrent of seriousness.
I started to pull my hand away but he reached out and caught it in his own, his fingers curling around my wrist. His touch was light, but his skin may as well have been electric. I wondered if I would always feel that way when he touched me. He leaned towards me, his eyes asking permission. I nodded imperceptibly, and emboldened, he closed the rest of the distance between us, his lips touching mine.
This kiss was different to our kisses at the cabin. We had been swept up in our passion then, a physical attraction, a desperate need for each other. This was soft and gentle, lingering.
36
JACK
It was the final night of the festival. A festival that, according to local gossip, had been a huge success. Visitor numbers had been reported to be the highest they’d ever been, and although it was too early to talk about money, rumors swirled around town that a predicted tidy profit meant that next year’s festival might not even require external funding at all, something Celia would no doubt be thrilled about.
The Cozy Catch food stand had done extremely well. We’d even had to order in more supplies out of our normal ordering schedule to keep up with demand, on top of the extra stock we’d already ordered in preparation for the festival. More than the money made, though, I considered the festival to be a success because of how many more townsfolk I’d met. Every day, new faces. New stories. New friends.
I finished packing up the last few traces of my stall, helped a few neighboring stalls pull down their gear too, then wandered over to the green where there was a picnic going on. A band was playing on the stage. People were eating, drinking and dancing. There was a bittersweet atmosphere around the square, now that the festival was coming to a close. The smell of kettle corn and cotton candy hung in the air. Children with faces painted on – lions, unicorns and superheroes – ran around chasing each other and squealing, having the time of their lives. I watched them, smiling. You didn’t see this back in L.A. At least, I never had.
I’d always wanted a family. Assumed, and hoped, that it would be on the cards for me one day, but it wasn’t something I’d actively chased. I figured it’d happen when it happened. But it was why I knew I couldn’t go back to being a cop. Not after what had happened to Alex. I couldn’t put a family through that, even though they were just a wishful thought still.
Someone nudged my hip. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’
I smiled down at Taylor. She looked a little tired and sticky from the heat and a busy three days tattooing half the population of Pine Harbor, but, to me, she’d never looked more beautiful. Her skin glowed in the fading light of the sun and the lanterns that hung all around the square from poles and trees.
I nudged her back. ‘All packed up?’
She nodded. ‘If by packed up, you mean all thrown into a box to be sorted out and returned to their rightful positions in my mom’s house so that hopefully she doesn’t notice when she returns that I raided her most prized possessions, then yes. I am all packed up.’
‘You’re telling me those adorable little lobster fairy lights that you had draped around the top of the mirror aren’t yours?’
‘Sadly, no. But I’ll make sure to go on www.cheapcrap.com to get some of my own.’
