Page 92 of Rebel Summer

I stood stunned in both shock and pleasure as his arm settled over me. I knew I should fight it, or at least pretend to fight it, for my own dignity. But like a glutton for punishment, I leaned into him more, wrapping both arms around his waist. He fit perfectly against me.

“What’s her name? She doesn’t look like she knows how to take care of a man!”

“Her name is Caroline Brooks. And I’ve been teaching her how to take care of a man. Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Brooks?! The girl who crashed into your shop?”

“And my heart,” Dax lied cheerfully, ignoring my jabs to his stomach.

“You can have him, Virginia!” I called out. “I’m just using him for his boat!”

She cackled a loud laugh before waving us on our way. “Don’t come back without a kiss that would make me blush!”

“Will do!” Dax said, happily pulling me along as we strolled along the dock, the wood rocking gently below our feet.

Dax held my hand and motioned me into a white boat with a green stripe around the perimeter. It looked exactly like the kind of boat I would imagine Dax Miller to have–built for speed, but also the kind of boat where he could sit quietly and take in the world around him. His hand gently let mine go as he moved to sit at the steering wheel. I sat on the white plastic bench seat lining the back of the boat. He fired up the engine, and soon we were backing out of the marina.

Bright fireworks of red, white, and blue burst in the sky above as Dax turned us around and drove quietly out of the marina and away from the glowing lights of Sunset Harbor.

I rubbed at my shoulders as we picked up speed, wishing I had been wearing pants. My goosebumps doubled as Dax slowed the boat to a stop and cut the engine.

“This is as far as we go.”

“Why?”

“Because the ocean is freaking scary at night.”

I laughed. “That’s so true. Nobody talks about that.”

Looking around, I gathered my bearings. He hadn’t taken us too far from the marina, but the view of the fireworks and the lighthouse on the southern end of the island would be spectacular.

Dax stood up, dug underneath a seat, and pulled out a blanket. “I’ve only got one blanket.” His gaze held a question.

My entire body warmed at the possibilities his unspoken question evoked. Even as I wondered why I was doing this to myself when I was leaving so soon, I patted the spot next to me. He settled in, both of us sliding down in our seats as far as we could go without falling off. Our legs sprawled out in front of us, and our heads leaned against the backrest, finding the perfect vantage point for fireworks.

He flung the blanket out over the top of both our bodies. The pop of the fireworks, the gentle motion of the water, and his arm pressed against mine lulled me into a contemplative haze.

I hadn’t been back for many July Fourths since I’d left the island. My parents had always played a big part in the town breakfast, serving pancakes and bacon with friendly smiles. They drove around in a golf cart with a sign hanging from the roof that said ‘Senator Brooks’ on it, waving enthusiastically at the crowds. Clayton Brooks ate up the Fourth of July, which was why my best memories from the holiday were with my friends.

“Do you do this every year?” I asked, suddenly curious about his family and why he wasn’t with them.

Dax paused before he answered, “My family used to. I haven’t done this for about fifteen years or so.”

“Really? What do you do instead?”

“Work.”

I looked at him, surprised by how close our heads were. “What does your family do?”

“Not sure.”

“Why’d you stop?”

He adjusted his position under the blanket, nudging me with his arm. “You’re kind of nosy, you know that?”

“Just give me something. I thought we were frien?—“

The sentence got lost on my tongue. My unspoken word hung in the air between us. A word that seemed to say so much and so little at the same time.

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