He laughed, shaking his head. “Toughest crowd ever. How’s the sketch coming along?”
“I’m almost done, but you can’t see it yet.”
It had been almost two weeks since she’d had her meeting with the mayor and the rejuvenation committee about the mural, and she’d been sketching every free minute. Or at least, when she and Brant weren’t busy with friends or getting down and dirty. Sometimes she even sketched naked when she woke up early, but that never lasted long. One look at her and Brant was all hands and mouth and delicious temptation. She also loved sketching at the marina, where she could watch him work. He was an artist in his own right, and she’d caught herself mesmerized by him many times, her sketchbook forgotten. He was as passionate about his work as he was about them and his family.
Scrappy walked past her and out the door. They’d finally housebroken him. Brant was so patient and loving, it was easy to imagine him with children underfoot, teaching them about boats, megaphones, and chocolate chip pancakes. She was falling hard for him, and sometimes she even daydreamed about a future together. Not that she could say all the words she felt. Many were still tethered to fears from her past. But she was getting there.
“You’re looking at me that way again, Caity.”
“Hm?” She blinked away her thoughts and realized she’d zoned out. She did that a lot when she thought about him. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “I’d give anything to know what you were just thinking about.”
“I’ll tell you, if you tell me where we’re going this morning.” It was Tuesday, and she wasn’t scheduled to work until the afternoon. Brant had taken the morning off and told her he had a surprise for her.
“No can do, angel face. And if you keep sitting there wearing nothing but my T-shirt and those pink panties, we’re not going anywhere.” He turned off the stove, and as he transferred the pancakes to plates, “Adore You” by Harry Styles came on. Brant spun around and pointed the spatula at Cait, singing about walking in paradise and getting lost in her eyes.
He was so freaking cute, she could barely stand it. “What is with you and boy bands?”
“It’s all in the words, baby,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
Scrappy trotted in from outdoors as Brant swept Cait into his arms, singing about walking through fire and letting him adore her. Scrappy sat at the entrance to the kitchen watching Cait try to fall into step with Brant. She’d gotten better at dancing because of mornings like this, but she was still a little off and sometimes stepped on his toes by accident.
He spun her around as he had last week at the Salty Hog, when she’d gone to the Cape and he’d stayed for the first night. She hadn’t made a decision about her winter schedule, but she still had time. They’d gone out with her friends to celebrate the mural and had spent the evening dancing, laughing, and kissing. It had been wonderful to replace a difficult memory with a special one. Brant was good at that. He made her bad memories feel like they’d happened in another lifetime. Most of the time, anyway. If only she could carry him around with her all the time.
When the song came to an end, he dipped her over his arm and kissed her slowly and sensually. As their lips parted, he whispered the lyrics to the unfamiliar song that was playing. It was a girl singing about being afraid to let her boyfriend know how she felt about him and a boyfriend who wouldn’t give up on her.
“That’s your song, baby,” he said softly. “‘Fight or Flight’ by Cait Fairbanks. You don’t need to say a word. Just never let me go, either.” He kissed her again and swatted her butt. “Let’s eat.”
She was still stuck on him knowing that telling him her true feelings was hard for her.
After a delicious pancake breakfast, and an even more delectable dirty shower, they leashed Scrappy and drove into town. Cait lifted Scrappy and looked into his adorable eyes. “Where do you think Boatman is taking us, Scrap?”
Scrappy cocked his head.
“Attaboy.” Brant ruffled the pup’s fur. “He’s been sworn to secrecy.”
“Are we going to the Bistro?” she asked as he turned down the street that led to the restaurant.
“Nope.” He pulled up to the curb just beyond the Sweet Barista.
“Keira’s? We just ate.”
“We sure did. Breakfast and dessert.” He waggled his brows and stepped out of the truck.
He was such a flirty, dirty guy, and she loved it. She watched him strut around the truck wearing his bright blue baseball hat and a navy T-shirt stretched tight over his chest and biceps, and she didn’t open the door. He gave her so much, she could give him that. He glanced over, flashing a deep-dimpled grin, and her heart beat a little faster.
Oh yes, this dream I’m living is plenty big enough. Some days she needed to pinch herself to believe she could be this happy.
He opened the door, and Brant took Scrappy. Then he reached for her hand, kissing her as she stepped onto the sidewalk. It was those little romantic touches that always made her breath catch. What more could she need?
As he led her down the street, the front door of the Daily News stand lifted, just like a garage door, as she’d imagined, and a tall brunette wearing a pretty blue wrap dress walked out.
“Are they reopening?” Cait asked with a pang of disappointment. “I want to peek in as we walk by.” Ever since Brant had seen her drawing of the shop, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not that she could figure out how to fit anything more into her schedule, but she liked entertaining the idea of owning her own shop.
All week Brant had been bursting at the seams to share this surprise. “We’re going to do better than that, babe. You can look it over for as long as you’d like.”
“That would be rude,” Cait whispered as they neared the building.
Charmaine Luxe, the Realtor he’d asked to show them the space, extended her hand. “Nice to see you again, Brant.”
Cait looked at him curiously as he shook Charmaine’s hand. “You too, Charmaine. This is my girlfriend, Cait Weatherby.”
“Hi, Cait,” Charmaine said. “Brant has told me wonderful things about you. I’m glad you could come out this morning.”
“Thanks.” Cait looked at him again, perplexed.
“I’m going to grab a coffee while you two talk,” Charmaine said, giving Brant a knowing glance as she headed to the Sweet Barista.
“Thanks, Charmaine.” He drew Cait into his arms.
“What is going on?”
“Now that you’re thinking about spending more time here, I thought you might want to check this place out and see if your sketches fit.”
“My sketches?” Her brows knitted, but the light in her eyes told him she was doing a happy dance inside. “I told you I was just messing around!”
“Yeah, I didn’t really buy that. I see the way you look at this place every time we drive past.”
“I like it, and I’m intrigued by how different it is and how the windows catch the late-afternoon sun, but, Brant. One big decision at a time, remember?” Her gaze moved to the newsstand, and she drew in a deep breath. “I don’t even know what I’m doing for the winter yet.”