Page 79 of Stranded

“How’d it go?” Kieran calls across the bar.

“Did you get that job you wanted?” That’s the new barista, Harley.

Marianne’s sitting in the corner with a glass of sherry. “Did you jam those suitcases right up their jacked-up little?—”

Laughter drowns out her next suggestion.

I slide my arm around Ronan’s shoulders, encouraging him into the middle of the room. “Best in his class,” I brag, since he’s still too tongue-tied. “And… tell them, sweetie.”

Ronan smiles dizzily around at everyone. “I—I got the work placement. And they got kicked out of the school.”

The room erupts into cheers and whistles again as people raise their glasses to him. They gradually return to their conversations, and Ronan turns to whisper in my ear.

“What was that all about? Did you tell them?”

I blink at him. “Tell them what?”

“About today?” Ronan nods like it’s obvious, and I chuckle and shake my head. “No, sweetie.Youdid.”

“Me? But I… I can’t have.” He scrunches up his nose. “I’ve been in my own head. You know that better than anyone. I haven’t been…here.”

I smile at him. “Yeah, you have. You know when you run into the coffee shop? You’re always nice to the staff. At the store, you ask how everyone’s day is going. You know the names of all Marianne’s chickens. On the ferry, you help people with their shopping bags.”

Ronan looks at me and squints. “I… I guess so? But… are you spying on me?”

“I don’t need to. Island life,” I grin. “Everything gets back to everyone. And those things you do are invisible to you, because they’re who you are. But they show everyone around you who you are, too.”

“Oh,” Ronan murmurs softly, and the wrinkles in his forehead smooth out. “I just… didn’t think they noticed.”

I smile as I lean in to press a kiss on his forehead. “People can’t help but notice you, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re finally letting them.”

Ronan blinks back tears as he wraps his arms around my waist, a sigh rushing from him. Then he pulls back and clears his throat. “What’s the next event on the calendar here? Downhill skiing in dishwashers?”

I crack up, turning us around to point at the posters in the doorway. “The winter festival, next week.”

“Can we go?” Ronan takes my hand, smiling shyly at me. “Now that people seem to know me… I’d like to get to know them, too.” He clears his throat. “After all… this is home.”

I’m flooded with warmth and excitement all of a sudden, grinning right back at him. “Yeah. Of course. I’d love that.”

Kieran coughs loudly, grabbing my attention. “Berty!” he claps our boss on the shoulder, interrupting him before he can make a beeline for me. “I’ve got a… stock question.” Then, he shoots me a wink.

That’s our cue to go.

As Ronan and I slip out into the night, I grab both suitcases and carry them up the ramp to the golf cart. I shove them into the back, and then I stand back. “So… I’m going to tell you what I want now.”

“Please,” Ronan whispers.

I step forward to scoop him right off the ground, safely into my arms. “I want to be home,” I tell Ronan, kissing him right on the lips.

“Yes, please!”

“And… I want to take you.”

“Oh, yes, please. Take me home—” Ronan breaks off, and then he giggles helplessly as he realizes exactly what I said. “Alph!”

“Mmhmm?” I grin wickedly. I lift him into the seat of the golf cart before striding around to the driver’s side.

“You’re getting good at this.”

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