Page 12 of Tides That Bind

“No.”

“Liar.”

Nate turns on the wipers and looks in his mirror before backing out of the driveway.

“She didn’t want you going out tonight.”

Nate nods and motions out the window. “Yeah. Because it’s raining. But she’s totally exhausted. She’ll be out like a light—”

“After she’s done vacuuming Tides.”

Nate laughs.

“What’s she so tired from? Doesn’t she teach Yoga?”

“And run a business. And take care of our kid. And me.” Nate presses his lips together, stifling a laugh. “And you. Heard you left your laundry in the dryeragain.”

I wave Nate off as he slows, pulling into a parking lot. “This place is open until ten.”

“Yeah,” I tell him. “For all the husbands needing to buy flowers because they stayed out late having a drink with their friends.”

Nate shakes his head. “They’re not apology flowers.”

He knows I know this. I wait impatiently as he dashes into the florist and runs out two minutes later, handing me a bouquet.

“They’re beautiful. You shouldn’t have.”

Nate tsks as he puts his seatbelt back on and prepares to drive us out of the parking lot. “Shut it.”

Instead of continuing straight Nate stops at a traffic light, turning on his signal.

“You want to take the bridge? It isn’t raining hard enough for mudslides.” The bridge will take us twice as long to get down to the Boulevard.

“I don’t like risking it.”

I frown as I lean my head against the glass of the window, hearing the ocean raging outside. “Storm came in too quick and too late,” I groan. “It’s going to rage all night and tomorrow will be calm as a clam. Boring day at the office.”

“Yeah, well, how long are you thinking to keep The Surf Shack your office now that you’re a licensed attorney?”

I ignore the question. “Do you ever run a stop sign just because you can?”

Nate slowly accelerates when the road is clear. “Not in this weather.”

“Good cop,” I say. “I guess it would be more entertaining if you were a dirty cop.” The idea is so ridiculous I laugh.

“We’d make a good team if you put that law degree to use.”

I throw my head against the seat. “I thought we’re supposed to be celebrating tonight, not scheming.”

“Scheming?”

“Yes,” I say. “Scheming. Can we hold off on thewhat now, Rileykind of talk for a bit?”

Nate looks at me. “How long is a bit?”

Forever, I want to say, because that sounds like a plan.

“I didn’t take the Bar to be a lawyer. I already have a job,” I remind him.

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