He cupped her face with his warm, strong hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek again. “That’s all I can ask. Let’s do this, friend. Let’s go kick some troubled ass.”
His touch felt like a promise to keep her safe during this trouble intervention.
As they walked to his car, doubt crept in. She tried to push it aside. Stop being so hard on yourself and just enjoy the evening. Like when we were in Romance. Her body warmed, and she reminded herself to also be cautious. There will be no sunflower kissing tonight.
He opened the door of his car for her, smiling like she’d given him the best gift ever by agreeing to go out with him. “Your chariot awaits.”
Maybe just one kiss…
AS THEY DROVE into the town of Brewster, butterflies took flight in Harper’s stomach. She fidgeted with her sweatshirt and asked, “Where are we going?”
“My place.” He glanced at her and said, “For a lesson in confidence building.”
Her nerves flamed at what that might mean. “I am confident, and for your information, we are not ending up in your bed, either.”
“For a girl who doesn’t generally do hookups, you’re pretty focused on sex.”
“I’m only like that with you, because you…” Make me want to do things I shouldn’t. She could not say that. “Give off a sexual vibe, and it gets my brain going in that direction.”
He laughed as he turned off the main road. “Do I?”
“Don’t act surprised. You know what you’re doing.” She remembered what Chloe had said about him not showing any interest in her. Those butterflies swarmed again as she added, “At least with me.”
He turned down a wooded lane. A minute later a sly smile worked its way across his tempting lips as he turned down another tree-lined street. “Seems to me you’re pretty good at picking up cues from men.”
“It’s easy to pick up on sexy cues. It’s the hidden ones, the ones guys don’t want me to know, that cause me trouble. Like with the guy who was engaged. I should have realized there was a reason he took off by ten o’clock every night and why he’d cancel our dates with excuses of work a little too often. But I wasn’t raised to distrust people. I wasn’t looking for hints of a hidden life. But that doesn’t mean I’m not confident. I just know where my weaknesses lie.”
He pulled down a long driveway. Cape Cod towns blurred together to outsiders, but Harper had grown up on the Cape, and she knew the differences. Much of the property in Wellfleet and Truro was within the boundaries of the Cape Cod National Seashore and off-limits to development, which meant there were fewer homes, less commercialization, and higher real estate prices than in Eastham and Brewster. She found it interesting that Gavin had chosen to live in a less expensive area after his comment about making a lot of money.
He parked in front of a cute, though unremarkable, cedar-sided rambler with a wide front porch that ran between a bump out on either side. Mature trees shaded a good part of the property, and long grasses sprouted up, unkempt and sparse as a balding man’s bedhead. There was no defined parking area, just a smattering of grass and sandy dirt, which was common on the Cape. But Gavin beautified spaces for a living. Harper was surprised his lawn wasn’t manicured with overflowing gardens, although the natural beauty of the land brought an unexpected sense of serenity.
Gavin opened her door and took her hand as she stepped from the car, leading her down a stone path toward the side of the house. “Listen, Harp, I didn’t mean you weren’t a confident person. Your confidence is one of the things that I was—I am—very attracted to. You’re the wordsmith. I’m obviously better with interior design than words. What I meant was that you let a few bad experiences undermine your confidence about your abilities to read people, and tonight I hope to help you let that go.”
“That’s true, I guess. But good luck. I’ve tried to let it go,” she said as one of the large kettle ponds the Cape was known for came into view. Moonlight danced along the surface. At the end of the stone path, which forked off and ran along the back of the house, was a wooden dock with a ladder at the end and a rowboat tied to a piling.
“Wow, Gavin. This is gorgeous.”
“Thanks. I wanted a place that reminded me of home. I grew up fishing with my dad and my brother, Beckett, and having parties at the creek with our friends. Kind of like the bonfires we have here, only with about five times as many people. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being around the water until I left Boston.”
“Like when I was in California. I don’t think there’s any place quite like home. Where in Virginia are you from?”
“Oak Falls. I know it’s stupid, but I’m glad you didn’t forget where I was from.”
“I remember everything about that night,” she said softly.
“Me too,” he said, holding her gaze.
The air between them heated despite the cool breeze. Harper struggled against the desire to move closer, to be closer. Close enough to kiss when the feeling hit.
In the next breath, Gavin cleared his throat and looked out over the water, as if he was struggling with the same raw emotions.
“You probably know Des and Emery grew up there, too.” Emery Andrews was Desiree’s best friend. A year after Desiree moved to the Cape, Emery followed and began teaching yoga at the inn. She’d fallen in love with Dean Masters, and they’d eloped last winter. “Violet lived there for a few years when she was little, though I didn’t know her then. I had heard that Des and Emery moved to the Cape, but I didn’t know where. It was a nice surprise to see everyone again.”
“Were you guys good friends?”
“Oak Falls is really small. You pretty much hang out with everyone who’s close to your age.”
“It’s crazy that you guys grew up together and all ended up here.”
“I think it’s fate. You know, six degrees of separation and all that.”
“Maybe,” she said absently. “I’ve been gone for so long, I feel out of touch. I missed engagements, weddings, and from what Chloe and Serena told me last night, Violet introduced them to a whole new group of friends who hang out at a coffee shop in Harwich.”
“Common Grounds. Justin and I hang out there, too. I’ll take you there sometime.” He took her hand and headed down the dock.
“I like to write in coffee shops and cafés, and sometimes at the Wellfleet Pier.”
“Really? I think you’ll like the atmosphere at Common Grounds. It’s very eclectic, and the people who hang out there are interesting, from all walks of life. It might give you inspiration for your writing, which by the way, I want to hear all about.”
She looked out over the water, listening to the sounds of the rowboat tapping the dock and the leaves rustling in the breeze, and said, “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell these days.”
“We’ll see about that.” He motioned toward the rowboat. “Ready for Regaining Confidence 101? I hope you like to fish.”
“I’ve always been more of a sit-in-the-grass-and-make-flower-crowns type of girl.” She glanced in the boat and saw life jackets, blankets, a tackle box, and fishing rods. He either kept his boat ready, or he’d gone to some trouble for her. That thought made her feel good all over.