Page 57 of Sea La Vie
“Forget my silly list. Forget everything but you and me, right here, right now. Please,” I say.
“How do I know you really love me? That you won’t leave again?” She asks in a small voice. I take her wrists and gently pull her closer. “I've already lost enough time with you. I don’t want to voluntarily put myself through that again.”
I lean in and tip her chin up with my finger. “Look at me, Lainey.” Lainey sets her mouth in a tight line, then finally looks up.
“I love you,” I say. “I love the freckles across your nose, the way you snort when you laugh, your bare feet, your tan lines, the rainbow of bracelets tied around your ankles, and your head of messy, beautiful waves. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”
Lainey blinks hard then swallows. “Okay,” she says shyly.
“Okay,” I echo. I lean in a fraction to close the space between our lips. Lainey is hesitant at first, then slowly, I feel her release the tension from her shoulders as she places one arm around my shoulder, then the other. When her hands find my neck, I deepen the kiss and I can feel her smiling again in the way I’ve only ever felt with Lainey. Slowly, I guide her backward to the closed door of the captain's quarters, my eyes never leaving hers and raise a hand above her head on the door. Lainey gasps, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. The wind blows a strand of hair across her face, and I wish I had a camera right now to take her picture. I never want to forget this version of Lainey—carefree, happy,wild and barefoot Lainey, who looks like she could cause only the best kind of mischief—the same Lainey I first met. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes are wild, and her lips…gosh those lips.
“What are you waiting for?” she whispers and grabs a fist full of my shirt to bring our lips together. I could get lost in her, in the way it feels to be with her. I could do this every moment of every day with her, and it still wouldn’t be enough. When we pull apart, she rests her forehead against mine.
“I love you, too,” she whispers.
I smile and let out a pent-up breath, relief washing over me. Lainey gets up and begins undoing everything she had done to take the boat out.
“Thank you for not going out there tonight,” I say.
“I’m not going out tonight because I caught and sold enough fish yesterday to get through until next week,” she says stubbornly. “I wish everyone would quit worrying about me. Come on,” she says. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”
I know she’s done talking about it, and I don’t want to press her, afraid of ruining a night that’s already almost gone south. So I clamp my mouth shut and store it away for another day. “I want to stay in the cottage tonight.”
Lainey’s eyes shoot up in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say. She reaches her hand out and I grab it. Her hand is so soft and warm, and I love the way it fits perfectly in mine. We walk down the bare sidewalks of Water Street until we reach the cottage.
Lainey gasps when she sees it all lit up. The landscapers finished this morning, and soft pink roses and blue hydrangeas surround the yellow house like a soft hug. When we get closer, Lainey scans the rest of the garden and gasps. “Poppies, daisies, lavender…wow.”
“I was hoping you’d like it,” I say.Because these are leftovers from your garden I’ve been working on.But tonight’s not the night to share that surprise.
“I love it,” she breathes. I follow her onto the front porch, and watch as her finger trails along the new rocking chairs.
“You could always come in,” I suggest. “I’ve already started moving my stuff from Lucille and Dave’s into here. I’m sure there’s a bottle of wine in there somewhere.”
“Okay,” Lainey agrees. “That sounds nice.” She smiles at me shyly, then follows me through the front door. Watching her look around the old cottage turned new is making my heart swell. I didn’t do much to the old cottage on my own, and I only needed to hire out a small portion of it to get her back in tip top shape. But what we did makes such a huge difference. Looking at her taking everything in with wide eyes makes me happy with my decision to leave as much of the original character in here as I could.
The carpet’s been ripped up, the hardwood underneath is polished and finished. Decades of paint have been scraped off all the doors, the hardware brought back to life and shiny again, and the ugly, blue walls have been painted a softer, pale blue that’s nearly white. I follow her into the kitchen, and she gasps when she sees the transformation in here. The doors to the cabinets she painted white have been hung back up, and the hardware has been replaced to something a little more modern. The farmhouse sink has been refinished, leaving it gleaming as if it was just put in. The old table and mismatched chairs in the corner have been sanded down and brought back to life.
“It looks like a dream,” she says. “When did you have time to do all this?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve actually slept,” I laugh. I grab a candle from the counter and light it, then lead her into the living room where a couch sits with a threadbare quilt that Ineed to return to Lucille before she notices. In the corner, a new television is propped up with the help of a couple sawhorses. I open the French doors that lead to the ocean and the sound of waves greets us like a lullaby, making Lainey yawn. She giggles then joins me, pressing her body against mine. When her hands wrap around my neck, I feel her sigh. “It feels like home,” she whispers.
“Youfeel like home,” I say.
24
Lainey
“Morning, sunshine.” Tate greets me on the back porch with a grin as he hands me a steaming mug of coffee. I accept it happily, my arm falling out of the quilt I’m wrapped up in. I mindlessly run my finger over the chip on the edge and stare out at the abnormally calm water.
Light is beginning to peek through the clouds, rays of pink stretching down to wake up the earth. Tate takes a seat on the swing beside me, pulling one leg under him to mirror my position. He’s wearing a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a well-worn, threadbare gray T-shirt. He’s also wearing those tortoiseshell glasses, one lock of hair falling perfectly into the middle of his forehead, and the stubble that seems to only grace his face when he’s wearing those glasses. GQ couldn’t perfect the look if they tried.
“Couldn’t hang through the entire movie, huh?” He nudges my arm with his elbow, and I laugh.
“I was so tired,” I say through another yawn. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Thanks for throwing this quilt over me last nightbefore heading to your room, though.” I had woken up this morning on Tate’s couch, perfectly bundled in the quilt I’m using now, to the smell of coffee filtering through from the kitchen. “You’ll have to tell me how the movie ended.”
Tate cocks an eyebrow. “You don’t know howYou’ve Got Mailends?”
