Page 45 of Harper

Her jaw drops, parting her perfect lips, and her blue eyes sparkle with excitement. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Holy cow! Dinner on a cruise ship?” A slow smile creeps across her face until she’s beaming back at me. Whether she realizes it or not, she reaches for her seat belt and buckles back in. “Joe!”

Harper loves gourmet food, and she loves cruise ships. Always has. Ever since we had our senior prom on board the Carnival Spirit.

I chuckle at her, delighted that she’s pleased, and relieved that the tension between us appears to be easing.

No more kissing until after dinner, I tell myself, shifting the car back into drive before she can ask to go home again.

“How’d you do it?” she asks. “How’d you get permission?”

“After you said you’d have dinner with me, I walked over to the port, introduced myself as the sheriff, asked to speak to the captain and…the rest is history.”

“Oh my god! I’m so excited!” she cries. But then she gasps. “Wait! No! We can’t go! I’m not dressed for it!”

“There’s a boutique on board the ship.”

“Joe! I can’t afford anything at a Silverseas boutique!”

“Harp,” I say, still heading for the port, “if you can’t, I can. Find something you like. Life is short.”

“You’re buying me a dress?”

I glance at her. “I may as well, since dinner’s on the house.”

“I’m not letting you buy me clothes,” she protests.

“Why not?”

“It’s too…intimate. It’s like you’re my sugar daddy or something.”

“If you ever wanted a sugar daddy, darlin’, I’d be the first in line.”

She laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re beautiful,” I tell her. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”

“Joe…” She looks worried for a second, then offers me a small smile. “You know this is a one-time thing, right? Doesn’t matter that we kissed. Doesn’t matter if we have a nice time. I’m going to go back to my life tomorrow, and you’re going to go back to yours.”

“If you say so,” I say, turning into the parking lot at the port.

Here’s what I don’t say:

I think you’re wrong, Harper. I think tonight’s just the beginning.

The second beginning of us.

***

In the end, she let me buy her a simple black dress and black heeled shoes that made her look like a supermodel, but she refused to let me get her anything else.

As we headed to the elevator, I took her hand, and when she didn’t pull it away, I held it from deck four to deck ten, only releasing it when the maitre d’ at The Marquee restaurant showed us to our table.

Over king crab and candlelight, she told me about the differences between working abroad and working for her family. And I told her about losing my uncles during the COVID-19 pandemic and how my aunt Hannah and cousin Sandra keep me honest. We really didn’t run out of things to say, but the couple of times we took a breath, we found the comfortable silence we’d always shared. By the time we finished our sorbet, the dining room was filling up with passengers who’d returned to the shipafter a day in Skagway, and it was time for me to take Harper home.

“I feel like I should give you this dress back,” she says as we walk back to the car.

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