He’d stayed and had lunch with her and Tank the next day, and she’d seemed happy when he and Tank had decided to keep in touch. He was glad she was comfortable with her two worlds coming together and that she’d continued opening up to him ever since, although all that opening up wasn’t easy. A few days after she’d come back to the island, she’d told him that she felt like a fraud for not opening up to their friends there but that she just wasn’t ready to. He’d reassured her that she didn’t need to share anything about her past with anyone that she didn’t want to and that their friends loved and accepted her for who she was. But he could tell she was still struggling with it, despite the fact that she hadn’t brought it up again.
The rumble of his grandfather’s truck pulled him from his thoughts, and he spotted the old red Chevy heading across the parking lot.
“Hey, Paps!” Brant hollered as he climbed down off the boat. His grandfather waved him over, and Brant jogged to the truck. “On your way out?”
“Nope. On my way back.” He motioned to a pink box from the Sweet Barista on the seat beside him. “Thought I’d surprise your grandmother with her favorite treat, one of Keira’s blueberry scones.”
“Uh-oh. Did she find out about the cameras you bought or the old sea skiff you bid on?” His grandfather was always taking on new projects—some he completed, but others ended up in their shed, which his grandmother called the project graveyard.
His grandfather chuckled. “Neither. You know what I taught you—the day you stop treating your lady like she deserves the sun itself is the day her petals wilt. But for what it’s worth, I told her about the cameras the day I brought them home.”
“And the bid on the boat?”
“Let’s see if I win it first.” His grandfather winked and motioned toward the Chris Craft. “She looks like a diamond in the rough. What’s her story?”
“She’d been passed from one neglectful owner to another before finally finding a home with a worthy owner. She’s in pretty bad shape, but as you know, beneath all the rotten wood and ruined upholstery is a gorgeous gal awaiting her second chance.”
“Well, she couldn’t be in better hands,” his grandfather said with a nod. “You’ve always had great vision, like your old man. I knew when you were just a tyke that you had the vision it took to bring out the best in everything and everyone around you.”
“Thanks, Paps. I wouldn’t be where I am today without your help.”
“Sure you would have. When there’s a will, there’s a way, and you, son, have got a will of steel and the patience of a saint. How’s Cait?”
“She’s great. She’s at the town hall meeting with Mayor Osten and the rejuvenation committee about the mural. She’s been so nervous these last few days, she spent hours researching the history of the island, looking at dozens of pictures of murals in different small towns, and sketching ideas.”
“She’ll do great. I really like her, Brant, and I like the way she looks at you, like she knows how special you are. But you know what I like even more?”
“What?”
“That gal brings out the best in you. You’ve always been a happy guy, but there’s a different light in your eyes these days. Try not to screw it up.”
Brant laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Someone’s gotta give the good one some tough love. I’d better go. Why don’t you and Cait swing by for a late dinner tonight? Your grandmother is making lasagna.”
“Sounds great. I’ll run it by Cait and let you know. She loves you guys. I’m sure she’ll want to go.” He patted his shoulder and said, “Love you, Paps. Have a great day.”
After his grandfather drove away, Brant loved up Scrappy for a few minutes, then headed up the ladder to get back to work. He wondered how Cait’s meeting was going, and chuckled to himself, thinking about that morning when he’d offered to make her a peanut butter and lemon sandwich, which had earned him a dramatic eyeroll. When she’d gone back to the Cape last week, she’d called him and they’d talked until the wee hours of the morning like lovesick teenagers. They hadn’t talked about anything of vital importance, but he’d loved learning little things about her, like her favorite junk food—french fries—and that she hated asparagus but loved lemons and peanut butter. Apparently she hadn’t meant that she liked to eat lemons and peanut butter together. But he had learned that her favorite color was green because she loved the outdoors and that she’d always wished she were more athletic.
She’d gotten her wish when she’d mastered freestyle in the cove this past weekend, and he’d made her a Top Athlete medal out of tinfoil.
They’d been spending every night together, and the closer they got, the harder it was to be apart when she was at the Cape. He was taking her there tomorrow night, and he was already planning to stay. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was losing it.
But he knew better.
He’d watched Rowan and his buddies Jock and Grant fall head over heels in love with their significant others. He knew he was tumbling down that very same hill, and he had no intention of stopping.
He pulled off another piece of decking, and when he turned to toss it on the pile, he saw Cait approaching in a sexy-as-sin yellow sundress that showed off her long legs and strappy sandals, with her backpack over her shoulder. She’d worked in the morning and had gone home to get ready before her meeting. He’d seen her in a dress only once before, at the restaurant competition. She’d looked incredible then, but she looked delectable now.
He whistled.
She lowered her eyes bashfully. But she quickly met his eyes again, as if unable to resist their connection, which ran hotter than fire and deeper than the sea.
Scrappy ran to the end of his leash, barking and going up on his hind legs. Cait set down her backpack and scooped him up as Brant climbed down from the boat.
“It should be against the law for you to walk around looking that good.” He leaned in and kissed her as she set Scrappy down. “How’d it go? Wait. Before you tell me, let me get one more look at you.” He took her hand and stood back. “If you don’t have more dresses at home, we’re going shopping tonight.”
She blushed, laughing. “Would you stop?”
“I can’t stop.” He kissed the back of her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t hate me because you’re beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t falter. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She kissed the center of his chest. “Mm. Your skin is hot.”
“You should feel the rest of me.”
“It’s impossible not to feel the rest of you.” She looked down at their bodies pressed together, and when she met his gaze, her eyes held a spark of desire. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Good, because I’ve made arrangements for us to be like this forever. They’re going to sew us up the middle.”
“You’re such a goof.” She laughed. “How will I paint the mural if I’m stuck to you like glue?”
“You accepted the project?” Excitement rocketed through him.