I glance at her and think she’s never looked more beautiful. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun and her face is makeup-free. The smile she wears is content as she sips her coffee.
“This is magical,” she murmurs. “The best.”
We listen to the waves crashing, side by side, and watch the horizon, her leaning into me. I’m sneaking glances her way. She’s happy, her eyes bright. She traces a heart in the sand and picks up a shell, tucking it into her pocket.
I realize that I can’t stop watching her. She’s magical to me. Not the damn sunrise.
On the way back to the house, she’s quiet. We walk leisurely, waving to people, her hand in mine as if it’s already a habit. I squeeze hers, and she squeezes back. Silvie is just as affectionate as I am.
We rinse our feet in the outdoor shower in the back and towel off. We move around the kitchen together, bumping into each other as she pours us juice and I crack eggs into a cast-iron pan. Music hums low from the old radio under the counter, there for decades.
I grin at her and lift her easily onto the counter so I can get a bowl behind her, leaning in between her legs. She squeals and laughs.
“Manhandling me already?” she teases.
“I think touching you is my love language,” I say.
She watches me, amused. “I appreciate your love language.”
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I counter.
Her eyes drop to my mouth, and I take it as permission and lean in to kiss her. There’s no one watching. No one to put on a show for. And yet, this is natural and feels really, really good.
The phone rings, interrupting us. I silently curse whoever is calling right now.
She reaches over and glances at the screen. Her shoulders tense and her smile disappears. “It’s my dad.” She hesitates, then presses accept. “Hello.”
I can hear him from next to her. He’s loud and sounds furious.
“This is not funny, Silverlyn,” he shouts. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Silvie stiffens. “And just what have I done, Dad?”
“You married a goddamn bartender! You know what you did! Why would you do that?” he shouts.
She glances at me, embarrassment flashing across her face.
“I’ve got lawyers calling me,” he snaps. “Board members asking questions. They’re investigating this. You think you can just run off and get married without consequence?”
“Actually, yeah. I do,” she says, voice tight but controlled.
“This is not a joke!” he roars.
“I didn’t say it was,” she argues. “And I didn’t run off. I’ve been here for weeks, Dad.”
He sounds even angrier, which I’m not sure how is possible. “You always make things harder. You could have done things differently!”
I step closer, without thinking, resting my hand on her back.
“You know what, I gotta go, Dad. I’ll call you later when you’ve calmed down.” She ends the call, and lowers the phone.
“So,” she says with a nervous laugh. “That’s my dad.”
I exhale slowly. “He sounds intense.”
“Yep. I’ll give him this one pass. But the next time I talk to him, he’d better have it together, or I’m putting him in his place.”
Holy shit.
