Page 15 of Sea La Vie
“Open your eyes and breathe, Tate. It’s not suctioned to your arm…yet. Is that a tear?” Lainey giggles as she pries off the slimy parasite and throws it over the edge into the water. It swims away, and I manage to take a breath before I open my eyes.
“No,” I mumble, wiping away what I’m sure is actually a tear. “It’s seawater. But even if it was, that thing was trying to strangle me.” I peer over the edge with a shudder, making sure it’s gone for good.
Lainey’s eyes glimmer mischievously, and she bites her lip to refrain from bursting out in laughter again. Her lips are red and chapped from the wind, but still perfectly beautiful. Why I'm paying attention to these things when she nearly let an octopus kill me is beyond me.
“Did we even get the fish?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
“Yep. I threw it on ice while you were squealing. Are you ready to head back or do you want to stay out a little longer? Your call.”
What I really wanted to do was take a hot shower and wash the slime out of my hair, crack open the new book I bought at Eden’s shop yesterday, and maybe even indulge in a glass of wine or two. It’s early afternoon but I deserve a little day drinking after that. But am I about to tell Lainey that? Absolutely not.
I really want to prove to Lainey I’m more than an entitled, sports car driving, yuppy man from the city. I want to show her that I’m still the same Tate from years ago, ready to have fun, and be a little spontaneous…or that Icanbe. If I let myself.
“Nope. I'm actually having the time of my life. You couldn’t pay me to go in. I'm ready toseasthe day.” I grin at my own joke. “Get it? Because—,” I wave my hand around gesturing toward the ocean.
Lainey shakes her head in disbelief. “Let’s get you out of here,” she says. And immediately, relief courses through my body at the thought of all those little luxuries being within reach.
6
Lainey
“Come on, Midge,” I holler over my shoulder as I walk out onto the front porch of my little cottage on Bay Street that runs adjacent to the water. The sound of little claws clicking against the ancient hardwood fills the early summer morning. She bounds through the open door, and we walk to the road, not bothering to lock the door or slip on her leash.
The sun is beating down hard, despite it only being ten in the morning. Sounds of a neighbor’s lawn mower fills the air and diminishes the farther away we move. We pass several cottages similar to mine, built in the 1800s when this town was known primarily for fishing and pirates. All have been painstakingly restored, little details of the past carefully kept in the wavy windows and brass doorknobs. Flowers spill out of every flower box along the fencing, and I’m reminded again of what a treasure Widow’s Wharf really is.
Midge and I round the corner into town, and without warning, she takes off. I feel my heart start to beat erratically before Irealize what—orwho—she ran to. My pulse finally slows down when I see who has bent down and scooped her up. I jog up to them where Midge is rolled over in his arms, happily receiving a belly rub.
“Well, good morning,” I say, raising an eyebrow first at Midge, then Tate. “Sorry about her. Normally she stays by my side.”
“Normally, handsome men aren’t roaming the streets of a charming town on a Saturday morning either, I’m willing to bet,” Tate says with a wink. He looks around then lowers his voice. “Although I will say, this place is pretty deserted. She didn’t really have many options.”
I feel the corner of my mouth tug up. “Touché.”
“So you admit I’m handsome?” Tate asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and hands Midge over to me. She tries to wiggle free to crawl back in Tate’s arms, I’m sure.
“I’ll admit, this town is deserted on a Saturday morning,” I tease and sit her back on the ground. She happily leaps back over to Tate’s feet and dances around him on her hind legs. “Where are you headed?” I ask, scanning the stores along Water Street. Every single one is closed.
“Well,” Tate starts with a scratch on his chin. “I woke up sometime around five because of Lucille’s snores, so I wandered down into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. Then, I immediately poured it all into the sink after realizing the beans expired probably around the year I was here last.”
My hand flies to my mouth. “You’re kidding.”
“So then, I read on the front porch until I thought Mugs and Memos would be open, which felt so wrong without coffee I might add, but when I made it, I realized she was closed. So now I’m headed to the diner,” He says and shoves his hands into the pocket of his khaki shorts. He rocks back onto his heels, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes.
“How much coffee do you normally drink?” I ask with a shake of my head.
“You really don’t want to know,” he says with a sheepish look.
“I hate to break it to you,” I say, “But the diner is closed, too.”
Tate grimaces and lets out a small whimper that is way cuter than it should be. “Lainey, Ineedcoffee.” The way his voice sounds so desperate right now, gravely and not quite awake, makes something stir in the pit of my belly.
“Follow me,” I say with a wave of my hand, unsure of what I’m doing. No one has joined our family’s Saturday morning breakfast since Eden became pregnant. But, the way Tate’s face lights up when he realizes he has a chance of getting his much needed caffeine fix, makes me tamp down my concerns and lead him to my dad’s like the lost puppy he is.
“Lainey! Lainey, could you help me for a minute?” I turn around and find Annabelle waving to me from the porch of the general store. “I’ve got a freezer out, and I can’t figure out what’s going on.”
I glance at my watch and bite my lip, knowing I’ll be late if I say yes but also…the word ‘no’ isn’t something I’ve learned how to say. If you look it up in the dictionary, I think it is actually defined as “a word Lainey Adams is incapable of using for fear of disappointment, shame, or the harboring of ill feelings.”
I glance at Tate. “Can you give me twenty minutes?”
