She was a millisecond away from searching for a rock or a sharp stick, something to defend herself with, when the man stepped out of the tree line.
Air rushed back into her lungs. “Ethan! What the hell? I thought you were some ax murderer.”
He crossed the water and stopped beside her, bag in hand. “You shouldn’t be out here alone, Mags.”
“I know. I didn’t really give much thought to what I was doing. One second I was at home, the next I was here.”
A small growl rippled from his chest. He pulled a towel from the bag and handed it to her. “For your legs.”
“Thanks.” She’d just grabbed it when she noticed his sweater. One that was almost identical to her own. “You’re wearing your Christmas sweater.”
“So are you.”
Yep. A red knitted reindeer sweater.
“You remembered,” she whispered, as she looked back at him, emotion clogging her throat.
“I remember every year. It was your mother’s favorite holiday.” He took out a bag of huckleberry taffy, and she could have cried. Because that had been their tradition. Christmas sweaters and taffy—not only because it had been her mother’s favorite, it was hers too. “Thank you.”
He dipped his head.
Once Ethan had slotted another towel beneath them, they lay down, and he pulled a blanket over them. There was something about sharing a blanket with a man that felt so intimate.
“When did you become so organized?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
“I’ve always been the organized one between the two of us.”
God, he was right. She was the one who lost to-do lists, bought new pens every month, and owned six phone chargers but could rarely find a single one.
For a while, they simply lay there in silence. It felt nice. Comfortable. She and Ethan never ran out of things to talk about, but they also knew how to sit in silence together.
Eventually, she turned her head. “Can I tell you something?”
His eyes were soft as they took her in. “Anything.”
“My mother’s death never made sense to me. Yes, she was young and liked to have a drink or two at Trap, but to get so intoxicated that she came out to the river and drowned? She wasn’t that stupid or reckless.”
Her motherhadbeen young, but she’d also been a great mom. Maggie had always been a priority. Plus, her mother had lived in Deep River her entire life. She knew the waters surrounding this town almost better than anyone. How could she have made such a careless mistake?
Ethan’s brows flickered. “Have you ever asked for the official report relating to her death?”
“A few years ago, I emailed the sheriff’s office. Ward told me to fill out a request form. I did, then I never heard back.”
Ethan scowled. “Lazy asshole.”
“I can try again.” She swallowed, eyes still on him. “How have you been?”
“You haven’t been responding to many of my texts.”
Of course not. Because every time he messaged her, her heart gave this it’s-more-than-friendship kick.
“Sorry, it’s been a busy week.” What a load of baloney. She’d been on the laptop, making blog and social media posts, reconnecting with her following before she, hopefully, opened up a travel business.
They lay there for almost an hour, watching as the sun went down and stars began to fill the sky. They ate taffy and talked about everything and anything. She felt more at peace than she had in the last eleven years.
When a shiver rolled down her spine, Ethan sat up. “Come on. Time to go. It’s getting cold. How’d you get here?”
“I walked.” It was only a thirty-minute walk from Polly’s. Perks of being in a small town.
