Page 55 of Every Beautiful Mile

Yes, our destination is the coast, but our stop in the mountains is because I’m just a little bit intrigued to find out who the man I’ve been emailing for four months is.

Maine’s most beautiful mountain village, the sign that welcomes us into the city limits, says.

Even though it’s the first day of July, the air mimics fall as it blows through the open windows.

Driving through the town is like stepping into a postcard. The colorful shops and restaurants line Main Street along with maple trees donning still new bright green leaves. The rolling hills of the White Mountains ripple in the background.

It’s idyllic.

I look at Marin and Finn as I pump gas.

“You two look like we walked here from Idaho.”

They are greasy, stained, and tired—a summary of our entire summer.

“Gee, Mom, sorry we couldn’t pull off that whole stuck-in-an-old-camper-with-no-AC-for-three-days-of-driving-across-this-hot-ass-country look better,” Finn says, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms over his ketchup-stained shirt.

“Let’s just get in there and get whatever food we need and then park this thing and not ever get in it again,” Marin adds as she swipes a line of ChapStick across her lips.

I put the gas pump back in its holder.

“You know what? Let’s not do this.” I’m just as miserable as they are. “I’m tired, and I’d kill for a shower and a bed I can sit up in without getting a concussion. There’s an inn.” I point diagonally down the street. “If they have rooms, let’s stay there. We can go to Bar Harbor tomorrow.”

“Yes!” Finn drops his head back with a relieved groan. “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He’s already walking down the street.

“Finn! We can drive!” I call toward his retreating back.

“I don’t want to get back in that thing ever again,” he shouts over his shoulder.

Two hours later, we’re showered, dressed, and each sprawled out on our own king-sized beds. We could have shared one room, but after the month we’ve spent crammed together, separation is a luxury we can’t pass up.

I throw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt from the O.K. Corral with a picture of a horse wearing a cowboy hat, and an unbuttoned red flannel shirt. My hair isn’t as cute as it was the day I’d gotten it cut, but the layers have a casually messy look. Or maybe it’s just messy.

I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. I’m casual. Laid back. I want to appear as though I just accidentally wandered into his restaurant after a day of… what? Casually driving across the country to eat dinner at his restaurant?

From every angle, I hate this idea. No matter how many ways I spin it, I look completely crazy. And desperate.

No.

This is research.

For my dad.

Basically, a business trip.

Ethan could be married. Or in a relationship.

No.

People who are married don’t tell strange women they sleep naked.

Not that I care how he sleeps. Or if he’s in a relationship.

This is an email business friendship situation.

“So, listen.” I lean my hip against the doorway to Finn’s room. “I’ve been talking with the owner of a restaurant here in town, and I want us to go there for dinner tonight. Grandpa wants to add some local ingredients to the menu, and apparently, this guy knows how to do it.”

---