Elena and I nod.
“This summer I’m taking her and Lou on a road trip, up the entire Pacific Coast Highway, over to Montana, Wyoming, and back down through Utah and Arizona before we return home. We’re going to try and hit every National Park in each of those states. I’ll propose at some point on the trip, whenever the timing feels right.”
Elena rests her face on her hands as she places her elbows on the table. “That sounds perfect. Does Lou know already?”
“Yeah, I asked her permission a while ago.” He smiles. “She helped me pick out the ring too.”
“You sure she’s going to be able to keep the secret that long?” I ask.
“She’s better at keeping secrets than you’d think.” His eyes flit to something behind me. “Oh, shit. Okay, everyone shut the fuck up.”
A second later, Dahlia appears beside me, bending down to press a kiss against Everett’s lips. “Hi,” she says as she straightens, stretching from side to side.
“Hi, Wildflower.” Everett smiles up at her adoringly. “Are you taking a break? Walk me over to the surf shop?”
“Sure.” She turns to Elena. “It’s slow today, and I’m caught up on orders, so if you wanted to go home you can, but I don’t mind if you wanted to stay?—”
“Say less.” Elena stands from her chair. “I’m never going to turn down a mid-day nap.”
I follow suit as we all clear our table and recycle our cups.
“Y no le hables en italiano a mamá sobre... ya sabes. Dal está aprendiendo italiano y es posible que entienda lo que estás diciendo,” Everett lowers his voice slightly.
“Entonces, ¿lo que estás diciendo es que deberíamos enseñarle italiano a Darby también, de esa manera podemos hablar mierda sobre Leo delante de él y volverlo loco?” Elena wiggles her eyebrows at him, smiling mischievously.
“Exactly.” He presses a kiss to the top of his sister’s head before walking toward the door with his hand in Dahlia’s. “Bye, Auggie. Have a good day.”
“You too!” I call, a small pang of guilt swirling in my stomach because I already know the best part of my day will be when I fuck his sister later.
We absolutely need to tell them what’s going on at some point, but I suppose Elena and I are still trying to navigate that ourselves, and it doesn’t make much sense attempting to explain it to someone else.
I turn, finding Elena leaning against the wall with a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to be walked to work, too, Augustus?”
“I’m never going to turn down something you’re offering me, baby.”
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the flush in her cheeks or the way she bites her lip. Elena pushes off the wall and follows me to the back door, stepping out into the late morning sunshine as I hold it open for her.
“I’ve got a few minutes if you want to take a walk down to the pier? My first appointment isn’t for another hour.”
She nods, and our arms brush as we make our way down the boardwalk and onto the pier. She links her pinkie in mine, eyes fixated on our surroundings as we stroll—though mine remain stuck on her.
The late-morning sun is just over our heads, shimmering down onto the whitecaps in a glittering display of brightness, but it holds no comparison to the way rays filter over Elena’s face. Her golden skin glows, accenting the smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose. It’s when her brown eyes catch the light and morph to liquid amber, her soft pink lips tilted up into the kind of blinding smile I know she doesn’t offer anyone else, that I find a beauty for which words do not exist.
I follow her gaze as she casts it over the horizon, fixating on the dozens of surfers that dot the waves. Fishermen line the pier, casting their poles into the tides below, and seagulls soar through the cloudless sky above us. Palm trees line the boardwalk, parallel to the shoreline, swaying in the salt breeze.
It’s a picturesque, perfect day. The kind that draws in visitors from all over the world to witness. Yet Pacific Shores holds no candle to the woman whose finger is linked with mine. Her beauty was always unforgettable to me, astonishing and impossible to comprehend, and as I stare at her now, I realizethat I’ve never savored it enough. I could look at her forever, appreciating every inch of skin on her body and ounce of sound that leaves her mouth, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
“How late are you working tonight?” she asks when we reach the end of the pier and circle around the amusement rides before strolling back down the other side.
I’ve worked late the last few nights. It’s been unseasonably busy, and I don’t have any guest artists until early next month, which left Maggie—who’s offered me the coldest of shoulders since I canceled her appointment and refused to rebook it, referring her to a different artist—and me to handle everything ourselves. We had drop-in after drop-in, and I stayed open hours after I typically do because I couldn’t turn down the business. By the time I made it home last night, Elena had fallen asleep in my bed, knowing she had an early morning at the bakery herself.
Though, I didn’t mind. In fact, I relished the vision of her sleeping in my bed—waiting for me.
Wanting me at all.
“I should be home earlier tonight. I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You deserve to be busy. You’re too talented not to be,” she says, and I lean over to kiss the top of her head. “I just was curious, if you’re home early enough, I might need your help with something.”
