We stroll down the footpath together, hand in hand, the light posts casting a soft glow across the road, while the faint sound of people at the harbor bar filters through the quiet night air.
It’s disappointing to think that Cape Meril’s townspeople would rather pass judgment than help one another out. That’s not usually what you get with a small town.
And what made Renley and Kitty town enemy number one?
They don’t seem to welcome any drama…well, Renley doesn’t. Kitty, on the other hand, does add a bit of spice to the equation.
“Do you see the store on the corner right there?” Renley asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“The candle store?”
“Yeah, it used to be a toy store. I loved going into it because there were unique toys inside that you wouldn’t find anywhere else. And there was this whole section in the back that was made for imaginative play. I’d spend hours back there, just playing with the toys, building with their tool set. I got to play with toys that my dad couldn’t afford. It was magical, but when I was ten, the owners decided to move and the shop went up for auction to the town. There were bids placed and ideas proposed, and the candle store won out.”
“Seems boring compared to a toy store.”
“It is, but they selected it because it was something they knew tourists would buy into. When you think of a souvenir from a rich town, an expensive three-wick candle is high on that list.”
“I know my mum has brought home a candle or two from her holidays.”
“See?” Her shoulders slouch in disappointment. “They completely gutted the store; there isn’t an ounce of what it used to be. I refuse to go in there.”
“Consider the store dead to me as well. Candles, pffft, how lame.”
“The lamest.”
“Try being creative. If we were closer, I’d spit on its front step.”
“I believe you would.”
“Because that’s what true loyalty is. Spitting on things for the people you care about.”
“Care about?” she asks, leaning back to look at me. “Would you say you care about me?”
“Yeah, I would,” I answer without skipping a beat. “I’ve gotten to know you a little over the past week or so, so I’d say there’s a general care there, and not because of everything on the back end, you know, the proposal, et cetera.”
“You’re saying it’s just…meyou care about?” She looks up at me through her long, dark lashes, and for a slice of time, I allow myself to truly take her in. Her heart-shaped face, the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and under her cheeks. Her bottom lip that’s fuller than her upper lip, almost as if someone has been allowed to tug on it. Her stunning eyes that glitter under the moonlight, and the slight swoop in her upturned nose that gives her this almost innocent quality.
She’s beautiful.
Pair that with her willingness to joke around, her tenacity, and her hard work…well, it makes her quite the catch.
Incredibly appealing.
Like someone I’d consider asking out.
I clear my throat and look her in the eyes. “Yeah, it’s you that I care about.”
The air around us grows thick as she stares up at me, the corner of her lips slightly tilting up, offering me a hint of her stunning smile.
Fuck, I feel this pull between us, and it might be the wine or the fantasy that I’ve built up in my head, but it feels like there’s something brewing, like there really could be somethingbringing us together, something more than the proposal, more than the rules.
Actual…attraction.
“Well, I guess that’s good,” she says, breaking eye contact. “You’d want to care about the person you want to marry.”
“Yeah, that’s what I hear. Then again, my parents didn’t really set an example for that.”
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I’m surprised you’re even interested in the idea of marriage. Most people who have a shitty example of marriage don’t want to have anything to do with it. Although, you don’t seem to treat it as the coveted sanctity that it is.”
