Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I was expecting to see a lot of familiar faces get off the ferry this week. But Louise Wade’s wasn’t one of them. Now I can’t look away, no matter how hard I try.
This is ridiculous. I forced myself to move on years ago.
Look. The fuck. Away.
I glance at Tuck, who purses his lips and gives me a thumbs up. You good?
I’m not. But I nod anyway. All this weird shit, it’ll pass once Lu is gone. Out of sight, out of mind.
“We’ll manage just fine, thank you.” Mrs. Wade offers me a smile. “Good to see you, Riley. Please tell your mother we said hello.”
“Yes ma’am,” I say. “Great to see y’all. Enjoy your time on the island.”
“Will do. Take care.”
Mrs. Wade links her arm through Lu’s. They head for the line of waiting golf carts and trams lined up dockside. I watch them go, sweat rolling down my face and back.
Aunt Lady, a nickname for Lillian, is waiting for them in a beat-up six-seater. Jesus, they still have Old Winny. I shake my head. The richest folks on this island have the most ridiculous homes but the shittiest golf carts. It’s like slumming it on the roads is a point of pride.
I should help the boys unload luggage. Help people find their trams. Instead, I watch Lu and Mrs. Wade greet Aunt Lady, her shock of curly grey hair flying all over the place as she pulls her sister and niece in for nice, long hugs.
My stomach twists. They look happy. Can’t help but notice, though, how Lu keeps her sunglasses on. She hiding something? What’s her story these days?
Stop. I can’t do this again. Lu has her life, and I have mine. If it were meant to be—well, I’d be the one taking her home right now, wouldn’t I?
I lost any right to her when I broke things off. Once upon a time I had grand plans of winning her back. Of finally telling her the truth. But by the time I was able to, she’d moved on. New job. New guy.
It was the end of our story. Broke my heart all over again, but I survived.
Barely.
Forcing myself to look away, I turn back to my crew, doing my best to ignore the tearing sensation inside my torso.
Yeah, I’d kill for a chance to make things right.
I’d kill for a chance to make her mine. For good this time.
But that ship has sailed.
Later that night, Tuck crosses his massive, tattooed arms. “Don’t.”
The lighter makes a small, satisfying click as I light my cigarette and take a deep, thirsty pull on the filter. Letting out a stream of smoke, I look away from the large white house that’s just visible across Harbour Village. Meet eyes with my CFO on the dock below.
“Don’t what?”
Even in the darkness, I can see the judgement on my friend’s face clear as day. “Be an ass.”
“Fuck you. And by that, I mean I love you, but please leave me alone.” The nicotine buzz is going straight to my head. Good. Maybe then I’ll be able to stop thinking about—
“Why’d you lose your shit when you saw Lu Wade today?”
I take another long pull on the cigarette, the sore muscles in my back and arms screaming as I lean my elbows on Dolly’s railing. Been a minute since I worked the ferry dock. I love me some manual labor, but damn does it make me feel old.
Still better than coming home to an empty house. Boat. Whatever.
As if reminding me Dolly is not, indeed, empty, my eighty-pound golden retriever Tom thumps his tail beside me.
“I’m not answering that,” I say, both to Tuck and Tom.
Tuck grew up in nearby South Port. But he spent a lot of time on Bald Head working at the marina with me. Now he lives on the island, moving here with his daughter, Katie, after we closed our first major deal. He knows all the locals.
What he doesn’t know is that I was in love with Lu. No one does, with one notable exception.
“The fuck you aren’t.” Dolly sways as Tuck boards her. Can’t help but feel a swell of pride that she no longer groans the way she did when I first bought her five years ago. I spent a not-so-small fortune restoring the hundred-foot classic to her original glory, but it was worth every penny. “I’ve never seen you freeze up. Ever. Hey, Tom.” He ruffles the dog’s ears. “I know, I know, it’s going to tear you up when your dad dies an entirely preventable death from lung cancer. I may have to re-adopt you. Or would it be un-adopt?”
Tuck’s ex-wife got Tom when he was just a puppy. Not long after, she split, leaving Tuck with a one-year-old daughter and a three-month-old dog. Understandably overwhelmed, Tuck didn’t love letting Tom go. But my friend was grateful I volunteered to take the excitable pup who refused to be house-trained.