Page 74 of Forget Me Not

Sitting at the top of the stairs, looking out over the water and consequently, the beach where Reid and I just made out like horny high schoolers, sits none other than my grandfather.

Well, shit.

“He’s a nice boy,” Pap says, sipping from his coffee cup.

Figures he’d be up already.

“Hey, Pappap. What are you doing out here so early?”

Slowly, he pats the seat on the bench beside him and with a sinking feeling in my stomach, I join him.

For a moment, he’s quiet, watching the water and no doubt remembering all his own trips out on his boat. It’s heartbreaking that he can no longer do the things he loves to do. Boating, working at the inn, dancing with Gran . . . he’s lived a long life and I guess my only hope is that I can live a life like he has, full of love and family and true accomplishment.

“He’s a nice man,” Pap says quietly, almost as if correcting himself.

I suck in a deep breath, willing the dangerous thoughts of how Reid is probably the most perfect man I’ve ever met out of my head. Let’s not forget how big of an asshole he can be sometimes. A couple orgasms and a few hours of niceties doesn’t mean he’s not still the same person he was when he first arrived on the island.

But . . . the little voice in the back of my head chimes. Maybe he’s more than just the grumpy fisherman that he’d have everyone believe he is.

Unfortunately, that’s what scares me.

Thinking things like that is only setting myself up for failure and at the end of August, I’ll have to say goodbye. I’ll hate myself for getting too close to him, knowing he’s made his plans clear. He wants to fuck me. I want forever and that just isn’t going to happen.

“He is.”

Pap nods, reaching into the pocket on the front of his shirt and pulling out his old pipe. The smell of pipe tobacco has always been a sickly-sweet reminder of my grandpa and though I hate the smell, it brings a sense of nostalgia I wouldn’t trade for the world.

“He’s fixing the place up. Helping you out. How long is he staying here?”

My stomach sinks. I wasn’t aware Pap knew Reid was helping out around the inn.

“Until the end of August.”

“Shame,” he murmurs, letting out a large puff of smoke that hangs in the early morning air. “You like him?”

“Pap, I’m sorry for what you saw,” I start, but he waves me off.

“I was young once. How do you think you’re alive?”

“Okay,” I grimace, clenching my eyes against that horrid mental image. “I don’t need details.”

Pap chuckles and it’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh since I moved to Port Nova six months ago.

“Nova, you’ve always been a strong girl, but I worry about you. It hasn’t been that long since—”

“I know,” I grit, cutting him off. I just . . . can’t hear his name after I just spent the night in another man’s arms.

That guilt I said I didn’t feel earlier?

Yeah, it’s closing in now.

“I want you to have fun, but . . . I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Tears burn in my eyes, but I force them back. The last thing I want is Pap worried about me. He’s got so much else going on that to burden him feels like I’ve failed him as a granddaughter.

“Just . . . keep an eye out, kid. For your Gran’s sake. You know how she gets.”

I nod, struggling to find something to say, but I don’t need to. Pap slowly rises from his chair and grabs the cane beside him, leaving me alone with my thoughts when he goes back inside without another word.

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