Page 13 of A Shore Fling
“Sure it is.” I stretch my arms out. “I was raised here, and look how charming I turned out.”
She rakes her front teeth over her bottom lip, looking unsure, and it sends a brief twinge of guilt through me. I shouldn’t be such a sarcastic bastard to her. She made a bad decision and screwed up the end of my shift, but she’s not the first to do so. Won’t be the last either.
Grabbing her tote bag, I return to the patrol boat and hand it over.
“Thank you, Travis.”
“You’re welcome, Nina.”
We start back toward the harbor, the sky behind us fading to light orange and gold. “So, which city are you from?” I ask, trying to make small talk.
Her eyes widen. “It’s that obvious?”
“To me it is.”
“New York City.”
“I would’ve bet money on that.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not unless you beach a boat on your first day here.”
“Ha. Ha. If you weren’t the grumpiest person ever, you could’ve been a comedian.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You would,” she scoffs, but her lips twitch with humor.
“So what brings you to Havenport?” I’m genuinely curious why she would be here for the summer, especially by herself.
“I needed a break from the city and the daily grind.”
“Why Maine?”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, which isn’t like me at all. I made all the arrangements last night, and here I am.”
“You’re lucky you found an available rental.”
She nods. “I know. The agent told me she had a rental that a family had backed out of. I took it as a good sign.”
“What about getting shipwrecked? Are you taking that as a good sign?”
“Okay, Mr. Critical. Actually, I’m chalking that up to a poor choice, which is why I usually avoid making hasty decisions.”
“You know, when the boat got stuck, you could’ve just radioed for help.”
“David didn’t go over that part with me.”
David doesn’t do many of the things he should.
“We’re almost back to the harbor. Once Perkins Marine tows your boat in, there are a few local boat repairmen you can callto check it out. I’m recommending you not take her for a ride again.”
“I won’t be.”
I bless myself, making the sign of the cross across my chest. “Thank you, Jesus.”
She laughs, and it’s genuine. My lips start to curve in a smile, but I stop them.
