I think about my apartment in Jamaica Plain. My work waiting at the museum. The life I built so carefully to prove I was more than Enzo Mancini's daughter.
Then I think about the man in my arms. The boat that became a sanctuary. The future I never knew I wanted until it was right in front of me.
"Yes." The word feels like flying. "I'll stay."
Ford's smile transforms his whole face. For the first time since I met him, he looks young. Happy. Free.
"I love you."
"I love you too." I pull him down for another kiss. "Now prove it again."
He laughs against my mouth and proceeds to do exactly that.
EPILOGUE
FORD
Six months later, and Second Watch still feels like the center of my world.
The difference is that now she's docked at Tidehaven Marina instead of running dark through the coastal channels. Now she's a pleasure craft instead of a safe house. Now the woman climbing aboard with coffee and a smile is here because she wants to be, not because her father made a deal with the devil.
Sera hands me a cup from Nettie's and settles onto the stern bench, tucking her bare feet beneath her. The morning sun catches the gold in her hair, the warmth in her green eyes.
"Captain Sunday says there's a storm coming in Thursday." She takes a sip of her own coffee. "Wants to know if we're still planning the overnight trip to the barrier islands."
"We can push it to the weekend. Weather should clear by Saturday."
"I told him you'd say that." She smiles, and something in my chest expands the way it does every time she looks at me likeI hung the moon. "He also mentioned that Admiral had kittens and wants to know if we're in the market for a boat cat."
"A boat cat."
"His words. Apparently every proper vessel needs one."
I pretend to consider this while watching her face. She's been talking about getting a pet for weeks now, approaching the subject sideways the way she does when she wants something but doesn't want to seem demanding.
"We could take a look." I lean against the helm, enjoying the way her expression lights up. "But you're responsible for litter box duty."
"Deal." She uncurls from the bench and moves toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Have I mentioned lately that I love this life?"
"Once or twice." I press a kiss to the top of her head. "Usually right after I bring you coffee."
"The coffee is a factor." She tilts her face up, and I kiss her properly. Slow. Thorough. The kind of kiss we have time for now that nobody's trying to kill us.
The last six months have been the best of my life.
Sera splits her time between Tidehaven and Boston, flying up every few weeks to consult on restoration projects while building her own clientele in the Southeast. The museum wasn't thrilled about losing her full-time, but they liked her too much to cut ties completely. Now she's in demand from Charleston to Savannah, authenticating pieces and directing conservation efforts for private collectors who pay three times what the museum ever did.
She keeps an apartment in Boston that she barely uses. Most of her clothes have migrated to my cabin on the bluffs. Her grandmother's ring hangs on its chain from the bathroom mirror alongside my dog tags.
I bought a ring of my own three weeks ago.
It's been burning a hole in my sock drawer ever since.
"What are you thinking about?" Sera pulls back, studying my face with that sharp attention that never misses anything.
"You."
"That's not specific."
