He heard her gasp. “Nick. I’m sorry.”
“She was one of those stubborn, skeptical women who avoided doctors and hospitals, so by the time it was bad enough to get her in there, there wasn’t a lot they could do. But I couldn’t leave her and my brothers. And after she passed…well, here I am.”
Because the chairs were on grass, Nick didn’t realize Lucy had gotten up until she was standing next to him. He turned, intending to tell her it was fine and send her in for a platter, but she wrapped her arms around him and the words stuck in his throat.
She was the perfect height for hugging. Her arms went around his waist, and he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her close enough so his face was buried in the neck of the blue hoodie.
He knew he should keep it short, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. It was probably when he and his brothers had to line up after their mother’s funeral service and accept handshakes and hugs from what felt like the entire population of Wayward Harbor. He’d been numb, and the hugs had been awkward and rushed.
Not Lucy’s hug, though. She held him until his body relaxed. His heart rate slowed. Even his breathing slowed, until he felt more at peace than he’d felt for a long time.
Only then did she back away and give him a smile. “I’m going to start bringing out the stuff we need. Don’t let those potatoes burn.”
So along with the gorgeous hair and eyes, and looking damn good in his favorite sweatshirt, the fact she could offer comfort and then let him be went on the list of things hereallyliked about Lucy Macauley.
By the time the steak and potatoes were on the table, the mood had lightened, though the breeze was kicking up as the sun went down. The light next to the door and the solar light topping the deck posts gave the meal a nice ambience.
He laughed when the wind kept blowing her hair in her face as she tried to lift her fork to her mouth. With an exasperated sigh, she pulled the hood up and tucked the hair in.
“You should make a list,” he said between bites. “The steps you have to take to make the Miami thing happen.”
“I just have to drive there,” she said with a shrug. “I can figure out the rest when I get there.”
“Yeah, just driving to Maine with no plan worked out so well for you.”
She grinned at him across the table, and it took his breath away. “It hasn’t really worked out that bad, actually. And if I have to make a list of serious things I need to do, then you should make a fun list. Like a shenanigans list.”
“A shenanigans list?”
“Yeah, you know—a list of fun shenanigans you want to get up to.”
“I don’t getup toshenanigans.”
“And there’s your problem.”
“I don’t think we’ve established I actuallyhavea problem.”
“Haven’t we, though?” She flashed him another smile. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do for no other reason than it seems like a cool thing to do?”
“Sunrise on Cadillac Mountain,” he said without thinking.
“I don’t know what that means. Where is Cadillac Mountain?”
“About two hours up the coast, give or take. It’s in Acadia National Park, and because of the elevation, it’s the first place in the United States you see the sun rise.”
“Two hours?” She held up her hands. “Put it on your shenanigans list and we’ll do it.”
He chuckled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “To go during the season, you have to make a reservation. You can’t get near it on the weekends and holidays, but getting up and out of here at like two in the morning isn’t really feasible on a workday. It’s not worth the effort.”
“Something you’ve wanted to do for so long it was the first thing that came to mind when I asked you means it’s absolutely worth the effort.” She pointed her fork at him. “I’m putting it on the list.”
And sure enough, when he’d finished cleaning the grill and went in to help her with the kitchen cleanup, he saw a fresh sticky note on the fridge.
Under the heading ofOur Shenaniganswere two bullet point items. Sunrise at Cadillac Mountain. And going out in a boat.
Our. The word echoed through his mind and he smiled. He liked the sound of that.
Chapter Seven