Page 79 of Reel Love

“A little, but he’s more muscular and built like a brick house, why?”

“I’m just indulging in a little fantasy. Give me a minute.”

He laughs. “Not your type. I assure you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I think you’d be better suited with a … I don’t know … a nerdy marine biologist who knows his way around the local kelp beds.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mm hmm.”

We both laugh. And then I remember. “Wait! Your brother. The one leaving the island. Only I didn’t know it was an island at the time. He’s moving away and … I’m sorry. It’s all piecing together now.”

“That’s the one. You really helped me that night. I was blindsided. But you’re right. I can visit him, and he’ll be back for visits here too.”

“It’s not the same as living on the same island, for sure. So, you actually have family suppers?”

“Once a week. And I do go to Mitzi’s Tacos weekly too.”

“Isn’t this weird?” I look into Stevens’ deep brown eyes. “Every time I remember a piece of a conversation we had, or the night you showed up at Summer’s barbecue ... the boat rides … you in the cove when Brigitte was visiting. I have to lay it down in the puzzle so it attaches to the rest of who you are to me. You’ve been more than one person in my mind for so long. I’m trying to stitch them all together.”

“Yes. It’s unusual. But, not … unfortunate.”

“Not at all,” I agree. “More like Christmas morning, whenyou thought you’d opened all the gifts, but then you find that last one hidden under the tree.”

He smiles at me. “And that one turns out to be the very thing you wanted all along.”

“Smooth, Stevens. Really smooth.”

“Trust me.” He smiles that half smile where the dimples form these nearly-edible lines on one side of his face. “I’m not smooth. I’m pretty … unsmooth, actually.”

“I don’t know. You’ve come up with some snappy one-liners over the time I’ve known you.”

“Online. I don’t do that in person.”

“Not even with me?”

“Maybe with you, now? But I’ll reluctantly remind you of the day we met on Joel’s boat.”

I laugh lightly. “You had your moment.”

“Not smooth.” His eyebrows lift and drop. It’s sexier than it should be.

Our salads arrive and we eat. Stevens asks me about my other interviews with the two Jimmies as Brigitte has dubbed them. I ask him about his work—my motive in asking now is so different than it had been. Before, I was curious. Now, I’m interested.

He looks at me over our plates of pasta, about halfway through the meal. “I’ve got a project I’ve been working on. It’s sort of a secret.”

“Ooooh. I love secrets.”

“I’ll have to show you sometime.”

“Is this like where a guy asks a girl to his flat to see his sketches?”

He chuckles. “Something like that. Only, you’ll be snorkeling—or diving.”

“I’d love that.”

---