Page 54 of The Rookie

“Let’s split one too,” Jules says to Rider.

We put in our order and Jules stares out at the ocean. “I really can’t wait to come back here.”

“You’re always welcome,” I say.

She frowns. “But it won’t be the same if you’re not here.”

My gaze goes to Wes, but he’s checking something on his phone. What, does he have a hot date later? Soon our dessert comes, and as I dig into the fresh strawberries, I try not to think about the tightness in my chest, making breathing a little more difficult. Wes shifts restlessly beside me, and I turn to him.

“Everything okay?” I ask, aware of the new nervous energy about him as our meal comes to an end.

He smiles. “Yeah, I just need to talk to you about something later, okay?”

I nod and try to keep a smile on my face, even though there’s a storm going on inside me. I have a bad feeling, and I’m not sure why. Or maybe I do.

After we finish our dessert and coffee, Wes insists on paying, and we all stroll the boardwalk, our bellies so full it’s hard to walk. I notice the way Wes keeps looking at me, but I’m guessing he wants me alone before he tells me what’s on his mind.

Off in the distance, I spot a guy around our age staring at Wes, and of course a lot of people are whispering and pointing. The man comes toward us, a huge smile on his face. Wes goes still.

“Owen?”

“Wes, I thought that was you.” He throws his arms out and they hug. I glance at Jules and Rider and they shrug as lost as I am. Wes and Owen laugh, and pat each other on the back, that masculine way guys do.

Wes turns to us. “Owen and I were at hockey camp together many years ago.”

“I’m so happy you made the NHL, bud,” Owen says, and his eyes get big when he sees Rider. “Rider Lewis. Wow, so nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan.” He shakes Rider’s hand and glances at Jules.

“Jules, this is Owen. Owen, this is Jules, Rider’s wife. They’re visiting from Seattle.” Wes explains and then puts his arm around my back. “This is Charlotte, she’s from Nova Scotia. We both grew up in Digby.”

Charlotte?

Did he just call me Charlotte, or is my hearing going?

“Nice to meet you, Charlotte,” Owen says. “I’m here visiting with my wife and daughter.” He glances around. “They’re off getting ice cream, and I’d better go find them before mine melts.”

The guys give another shake goodbye and promise to keep in touch, and we all head to the car. Once inside, I try to loosen the knot in my stomach—which has nothing to do with eating too much. Why didn’t he introduce me as Charlie? Does he not like my name, or maybe he finds it too masculine, and Charlotte is more fitting for a girl in a dress? Is he changing me into what he wants? First the dress and now the name.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he says on the drive home.

I force a smile. “Just tired.”

“Do you think we’ll be back in time for the fireworks?” Rider asks.

Wes glances at him in the rearview mirror, and I take in his handsome profile, the smoothness in his shaved face. I resist the urge to touch him, as a part of me fears I’ll never get to touch him again. “If I speed.”

He steps on the gas and a yawn pulls at me. While I want to call it a night, I also don’t. Wes wants to talk to me, and I want to hear what he has to say. I do worry, tonight might be his goodbye to me, but there is a part of me that hopes he’s asking for more. I want that, even though a relationship seems impossible, with both of us going our separate ways. I don’t see how a future could work, yet it’s not stopping me from wanting one.

We finally make it back to town, and with the streets crowded, it takes time to find parking. The vendors are all packing up for the night and the beer garden is hopping as locals and visitors wait for the fireworks to begin.

Jules grabs my arm and gives a little tug. “Let’s grab a drink.”

“We’ll get them,” Rider says, and bends to give Jules a loving kiss on the forehead, and my heart misses a beat. I want what they have. “Why don’t you girls try to find us a table.”

I nod, and glance around. That’s when I spot Sam Gilmore, a loud crowd around him. For a second I wonder if Breton might try to get him back, now that he’s home. “That’s Sam,” I say to Jules. “Are you a football fan?”

She shakes her head. “Not really.”

“Do you mind if I go say hello?” I’d spotted him earlier, before the shucking contest, but never had a chance to see how he’s doing.

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