“No bag?”
“We’re in the middle of an environmental crisis.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nantucket’s going to be buried beneath the waves in several centuries.” I made a falsely apologetic moue as I delivered the tidbit, imparted to me by Jane alongside the cedar-shingle facts.
He looked annoyed. “You don’t need to lecturemeabout Nantucket.”
“Noah!” From the back room, Maggie emerged. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Hi, Ms. M.” He smiled, and I looked away. Rather unsportsmanlike of him to be incredibly wealthy, well-read,andstunningly good-looking.
“How are you? Did you just arrive?”
“Last week, yeah. How are you?”
“We’re great, ramping up for the season. Have you met Abigail? She’ll be here all summer.”
Now he turned the smile on me, but it sharpened. “We go way back. We’re about to head out, actually, if she’s done with her shift?”
“Oh, really?” Maggie looked at me curiously. “What are you two up to tonight?”
“Just some casual interrogation,” he said lightly.
Why did I feel hot and embarrassed all over? “I’ll go grab my bag.”
Once we were outside, he slipped his books into my purse. “Since you denied me a bag.”
“Hmph. You know Maggie?”
“It’s a small island. Cross here.”
We crossed Main and headed toward the harbor. “Where are we going?”
“We’re walking.”
“Anywhere in particular?”
“Nope. So what’s your deal?”
I swallowed. “Straight to it, huh.”
“You have me on pins and needles.”
“Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with the basics.” He fixed me with his gaze, and since he had at least a head on me, I had to crane my neck back to meet it. The sun cast a golden halo around his curls, as though the universe itself had decided to surround him with angelic light. “Why were you in my grandfather’s study?”
We’d reached the wooden wharves, and I looked out at the harbor. Nantucket Sound lay flat as glass today. Small skiffs bobbed gently above their reflections. The ocean looked tamed, pinned down by boats, hemmed in by docks and land. A lie. The ocean could never be tamed. “He knew my grandmother.”
“Okay...”
I shoved my hands in my dress’s pockets and met his eyes. “He wrote her love letters. I found them a couple of months ago.”
Surprise widened his eyes. “You think my grandfather’s writing your grandmother love letters?”
“No, not now, decades ago.”
