They walked down to the dock in silence. Bradford’s hands hung at his sides. Charmaine itched to slip her own hand into his, but didn’t dare. Her heart thudded in her chest.
“Are you having a good week so far?” She almost cringed at her formality. Her words sounded hollow and empty in the beauty of the moment.
She wished she could see his eyes, but the darkness grew deeper as they moved closer to the shoreline. “It’s been good. Busy, but satisfying.”
“Work?” She asked.
He nodded. “It can get hectic at times. Which is positive, because it pays the bills.”
“What do you do?”
"I run a yacht rental business out of Airlie Beach. We do deep sea fishing as well.”
“That sounds like a great business to have in this area.”
“It is,” he replied. “And I love it. I get to be out on the water most days. Sometimes I’m stuck in the office doing paperwork, but I don’t mind that either as long as it’s not every day. How about you? How’s the wedding planning business?”
“I haven’t had any other weddings since your sister’s, but I work atBetsy’s Floralsfull time.”
“I didn’t realise that. Betsy’s a lovely lady—I’m sure she’ll take care of you.”
“She’s been amazing. She lets me live over the florist shop in exchange for me keeping an eye on the business, opening and closing each day—that kind of thing. Plus, she gave me a bike when I first arrived so I could get around the island. It was kind of her to think of me.” She was babbling, but also somewhat in shock at how much she was talking. And it didn’t feel awkward or scary. It felt natural and easy.
“You like to ride?” Bradford asked.
“I love it. I get to see the island close up, and it gives me some exercise. I’m kind of lazy, so if I had a car, I’d probably get very fat and never do anything active.” She laughed. “Well, maybe I’m exaggerating since I do love to swim and snorkel, but I’m not the kind of person who’d get up early to go for a run every morning or play a team sport.”
“I run every day,” Bradford said. “And I’m on a Saturday soccer team.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t a criticism.”
He laughed and reached for her hand, cradling it in his. “Relax—I was just teasing you. I do run and play soccer, though. That wasn’t a lie.”
Fireworks ran from her fingers up her arm and hid in a ball in her belly. He was holding her hand and didn’t seem to have any intention of letting it go. She bit down on her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Her nervousness often made her laugh at the most inappropriate times.
“So, I was thinking,” Bradford began. “We should go out sometime. Maybe have dinner. What do you think?”
“I’d love that.”
“Great, I’ll give you a call.”
“Okay.”
He let their hands drop but didn’t release his grip. His grasp was warm and gentle. His fingers linked with hers. They walked together around the dock and back again, talking quietly. He headed in the direction of her flat without mentioning it. Instead, he spoke about his work, his soccer team, the latest fishing trip. He asked about her life and family, questions she did her best to avoid answering directly. Then he stopped in front of the florist shop door.
“This is where you live. Right?”
He must’ve found out about her, she didn’t recall telling him her address.
“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker. I remember my sister saying something about it.”
“I didn’t think you were a stalker.”
“Good to know.” She couldn’t see his expression well in the dim lighting of the street lamps but his voice was light-hearted and soft.
He pulled their hands to his mouth and kissed the back of hers gently, then released it.
