"So you live here rent-free, writing your webcomic. Talk about a charmed life."
"Can't complain."
Jack's gaze drifted to her drafting table. He was dying to get a peek at the work-in-progress of Tidal Lock. His sister would lose her mind if she knew he was talking to C.H. Winters. But he got the very real sensation that Clara wasn’t keen to share so he kept from wandering too close to her drafting table.
“You know I have to ask…how’d you get started with the webcomic? Have you always been an artist?”
“Um, I guess so. Mostly a doodler but somewhere along the way, I fell into drawing comics and it just resonated. I sold my first comic three years ago." She turned, leaning against the table, arms crossed. Defensive posture. Protecting the thing that mattered. “But the comic business is brutal. Even more so in today’s market.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
She shrugged. "I do my thing, keep my needs small, hope for the best."
"For a pragmatic person, you've got a lot of Zen statements ready."
"What makes you think I'm pragmatic?"
"Just a hunch. I'm good at reading people."
Clara studied him, green eyes sharp. "What do you do for a living? You're clearly not a boat captain."
"Carpenter. I travel around, pick up jobs, live life to the fullest wherever I go."
"That sounds unstable."
"It can be."
She blinked, surprised. "Most people would say 'it's an adventure' or 'I love the freedom.' You just admit it's unstable?"
"Why lie?"
"How long have you been doing the traveling thing?"
"Seven years, give or take."
"That's a long time to not have a home."
The question landed harder than she probably meant itto. Like a thumb finding a bruise — not hard, just accurate enough to ache.
He smiled past the discomfort. “I like the freedom of going wherever I choose, whenever I want.”
“So, you have Peter Pan syndrome.”
“What’s that?”
“Basically an adult who’s allergic to adulting.”
He chuckled, appreciating the fact that she’d just landed a zinger without a hint of apology. Most people danced around the need to be polite but not Clara. “Life's too short to be tied down,” he said. “Fresh starts, endless possibilities—that kind of freedom keeps me moving. Plus, I get to meet cool people, like a secret web comic writer who lives in an old lighthouse. That doesn’t happen everyday, you know.”
"That sounds like a nightmare." Clara actually shuddered. "Never having routine? Never knowing what each day looks like? Kill me now."
A tickle of amusement forced a deeper laugh. Couldn't help it. They were so completely different it was almost orchestrated by a higher power to mess with each other. And the way her brow crinkled at the supposed horrors of his lifestyle? Adorable. Although, he probably shouldn't findit adorable.
But staying in one spot for the rest of his life — even a lighthouse with a certain cool factor? That was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it always dropped.
They stood in silence, rain steady against the windows. “Awkward silence is fun.” he joked.
