Page 62 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
Finn tucks his shoe around the leg of Vivian’s chair and scoots her close so he can drop a kiss over her chestnut curls. “Perfectly explained, gorgeous.”
It’s hard to believe that Vivian was the quietest person in Wilks Beach mere months ago.
“This is like something from a novel.” Vivian beams at her boyfriend. “It’s all very exciting.”
“I’ll also be running coms,” Van adds. “I’d like you to have an earbud in while on the phone to let me know if something goes south. That way I can send Noah in if need be.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near this.” My lips press into a tight line. “I thought we agreed on that.”
Van takes my other foot between his large hands and begins massaging my arch. It’s a struggle to keep my expression even, to not let my eyelashes flutter with bliss.
“I’m not letting you do this alone.”
“Isn’t that what they’re for?” I sweep my arm toward the four people in my living room.
When Van simply shakes his head at me, that darned, confident smirk tracing his distracting lips, my hands fist at my sides. His strong fingers playfully pinch my Achilles, nearly drawing a gasp from my mouth. Warmth snakes up the backof my leg in curling tendrils as Van’s mesmerizing gray eyes hold mine. It’s not until Finn speaks up that I even remember everyone else is here, watching us.
“We should refresh our drinks in the kitchen,” he says before encouraging everyone else out of the room.
“Be honest with me.” Van’s words are so low I almost miss them, but it’s impossible to mistake his focused expression. All hints of flirtation are gone as he surveys my face. “Will you tell Vivian or Brynn or Noah if you’re in trouble? Or will you push through, trying to protect everyone without ever thinking about yourself?”
I swallow, wondering how a craggy boulder got lodged in my throat.
“We knew from the beginning that I would be the one to take the fall if it came to that.”
Van’s exhale is long and slow. “But if we work together, that won’t happen. If I’m the one on the phone, you’ll tell me. Won’t you?”
My mouth opens, closes, and opens again. The answer screams in my brain, but I can’t get it past my teeth. We’ve only known each other a short time, but if I needed help, Van would be the one I’d ask for.
“You can be on the phone here.”
He shakes his head. “I’d have to hang up to let Noah know he needs to go in, and you know I won’t do that.”
“You’re making this sound like it’s life and death.” I roll my eyes to avert his piercing gaze. “I’m taking a small ring from my deadbeat dad’s house. If the police show up, I’ll explain that it wasn’t his in the first place.”
A deep breath fills my lungs before I continue. “Noah got his confrontation. He got his moment to tell Henry what a jerk he’d been. I never did. I got…” I don’t sayleft behind. “I don’t just want to do this. Ineedto do this.”
“And I need to keep you safe,” Van tells me, holding my gaze.
“Fine.” I make a show of huffing, though something unlocks inside my bruised heart.
Van grins, his hands moving up my good leg and kneading my calf. “In the end, I think this could be a fun adventure for everyone. Even though it’s technically breaking and entering…and theft.”
“Justified theft,” I counter.
He bounces a shoulder. “Sure. And if you let us be there for you, this can be a victorious story we’ll tell for decades.”
I like the idea of that way too much. I want to tell this story again and again with Van at my side, offering hilarious commentary. I want my pesky brother and my newfound friends to reminisce with us too.
“We talked about it,” Vivian says, reentering the room. “And only you, Noah, Brynn, and Van need to be in the car. Finn and I will stay behind and make a celebratory dinner for us to enjoy afterward.”
“I feel like we should have a team name or something.” Finn rubs his beard scruff with one hand.
Everyone falls silent, thinking. I bite the inside of my cheek out of habit but then decide to let my instantaneous idea burst free.
“The Ring Leaders.”
Vivian chuckles first, followed by Brynn. Soon, everyone is laughing along, holding their stomachs as we spill into another fit of mirth. It’s wildly infectious. Each time one of us slows down, another person gets us started again. Van laughs so hard he ends up making these high-pitched squeaky sounds that should be unattractive but are adorably endearing.
