Unease tapped against Sage’s rib cage like the pitter-patter of raindrops on the water, rippling through her body. Her fingers and toes tingled. Her breath wobbled.
What if Flynn wasn’t there?
Tentatively, she stepped onto the dock. The weathered planks creaked beneath her feet, and waves gurgled and swished below. Boats of various sizes and shapes—from cabin cruisers to fishing trawlers—filled the slips on both sides, obstructing what lay ahead.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, she made her way toward the last slip. Her legs felt heavy, as if weighed down by driftwood. When she passed a hulking catamaran previously blocking her view, her heartbeat faltered.
Flynn and Cap stood at the end of the dock, framed by Mira and the sparkling sea beyond.
At the soul-quenching sight—Flynn smiling and Cap wagging his tail—tears welled in her eyes and the heavy weight lifted, vanishing into the crisp, briny air above her.
Her pace quickened, her feet slapping against the wooden slats as she broke into a run. Wind rushed past her, soft and cool against her face, ruffling her hair. Tears—first one, then two—escaped the corners of her eyes, sliding past her temples, warm against her skin.
Happy tears. Cleansing tears. Freeing, in a way she’d never felt before.
He’d waited for her, exactly as he’d promised.
Overcome with joy, all-consuming and intense, she launched herself into Flynn’s arms, laughing as she cried, “You came!” She kissed him before he had a chance to respond.
He answered by pulling her close, lingering in the feel of her lips against his, familiar and sweet. He tasted like forever, like a future filled with hope.
When they finally broke apart, she couldn’t stop smiling, as if her heart commanded total control of her countenance. “You’re here. You actually showed up this time.”
“I plan to do a whole lot more of that. Showing up for you, that is.” He held her gaze, his eyes peering so deeply into hers, she momentarily lost herself in the depths of amber gold. She believed every word he said.
Cap barked, as if he didn’t want to be left out.
Laughing, Sage bent to scratch behind his ears. That’s when she noticed the sandwich board decorated with blue and silver balloons.
Written in white chalk were the words, Welcome to The Unbound Bookshop: Where Stories Set Sail.
She glanced at Flynn, barely able to believe her eyes.
“You can change the name if you don’t like it.” He ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous, endearing gesture. “And I have other ideas for the tagline, too. Like, Where stories meet the open seas. Or Where ocean waves meet the page. Or Let your imagination set sail. You get the idea.”
Moved beyond words, she still couldn’t speak. Her bookshop had a name. A wonderful, creative, perfect name. Suddenly, for the first time, her childhood dream felt real and tangible. It actually came true.
“You hate it? I went too far, didn’t I?” Flynn asked, misreading her silence.
With fresh tears filling her eyes, she found her voice. “I love it. It’s absolutely perfect. Thank you, thank you.” She kissed him again, taking her time, savoring his scent, the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips.
Her bookshop wasn’t the only dream coming true.
When their lips parted for the second time, he didn’t let go. Holding her in his arms as if she were the most precious treasure on the planet, he tucked a wayward, windswept curl behind her ear. His gentle touch against the tender spot behind her earlobe made her shiver.
“I never stopped loving you, Sage Harper.” His confession caressed the top of her head in a tone as thick and syrupy as raw honey. “Only now, my love has grown. It’s rooted in the knowledge that whatever wave or storm or gale comes our way, we’re stronger together.” He cracked a playful smile. “I was going to use a metaphor like two sails are better than one, but then I realized that would lead to muddy waters, because, sometimes, three or more sails are even better, and accidentally extolling polygamy isn’t the vibe I’m going for.”
At his unexpected comment, laughter spilled to the surface, light, airy, and wonderful. She’d missed his goofy sense of humor, the way he made her feel special and cherished, as if he lived to make her smile. “I love you, too. Even when your comedic timing is terrible,” she teased, so happy she might burst.
“I’ll work on it.” He coiled one of her curls around his finger, his knuckles gently grazing her cheek. Her heartbeat stilled at the intimacy of the gesture.
Tucked in the shade of Mira’s mast, surrounded by the sea and sky, she longed to stay in that moment forever. The five hours she’d stood there alone suddenly seemed so brief in light of the bigger picture, the grander story. Their story. And it wasn’t over yet. Not even close.
A flash of blue and white around his wrist caught her eye. The friendship bracelet. “You still have it?” She tenderly touched the woven strands.
“Of course. I put it back on yesterday. And I don’t plan to take it off again.”
She hadn’t noticed it last night, either distracted by the glitz of the gala or his suit jacket had kept it hidden. She smiled softly, wondering whatever happened to the one she’d made for Kevin. “It looks good on you.”
“There’s something I need to tell you. About this bracelet. About the night Kevin died.” His voice strained, and sadness glinted in his eyes.
“What is it?” Is it what he’d wanted to tell her last night before their argument?
“First, how about we take Mira out for a spin?”
“Is she seaworthy?”
“Yep. I checked with Mackensie and did a thorough inspection myself.” He held out his hand. “So, what d’ya say? Will you be my first mate?”
Cap wiggled by his side, eager to climb aboard.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Sage slid her hand in Flynn’s. His firm, assured grasp closed over hers.
With Flynn, she’d willingly go wherever the wind took them. But she couldn’t quiet a faint whisper of restless curiosity.
What did he need to tell her?