Page 39
Story: Hidden Harbor
“Maybe.”
As each course arrived, Anya relaxed more, letting me see the woman behind the relentless positivity. The beauty of Nautilus’s one-seating format was that we weren’t in a hurry. We talked about everything and nothing, from what it was like growing up on a tiny island to how she got into yoga.
I was careful not to ask too many questions about her life before San Juan Island. Every time I skirted a topic that hinted at her past, she tensed, a shadow falling across her features. She clearly wasn’t ready to talk about what really brought her to our island. And I chose not to push.
She shook her head ruefully, sipping on an after-dinner cappuccino. “I still can’t believe Gran helped you paper mâché a shark fin so you could swim Eagle Cove and scare away all the tourists.”
“Honey, she didn’t just help. She planned the whole damn thing. We wanted the beach to ourselves for once. We werepretty easy to convince. Cole filmed and posted it.” I winced, face contorting into an exaggerated grimace. “Of course, then we learned she wanted everyone gone so she could go skinny-dipping and not get arrested. I’d pay to erase some of my family memories.”
Anya’s shoulders shook with laughter, her eyes streaming with tears. “Every time I feel like I’ve got a handle on you and your family, I realize I’ve underestimated you all.”
I grinned, unrepentant. “We’re a rowdy bunch, but we grow on you.”
She toyed with the rim of her cup, her lashes sweeping down to hide her eyes from me, her lips pursing in a secretive smile. “Yeah, you do.” She smirked. “So… haveyouever gone skinny-dipping?” Her gaze dropped to my chest, dragging down my body. Like she was most definitely imagining me naked.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tease her that I wasn’t a piece of meat. But her admiring glance was enough to stop me. I shifted in my chair, spreading my legs, brushing her knee under the table. Something fired in her blue eyes, a flicker of heat. I nudged her thigh gently again, turning it into a slow stroke, pleased when her thigh tilted closer to maintain contact.
“Have you?”
I blinked. What was her question?
“Gone naked?” she prompted.
“You bet.” My voice sounded like I’d scraped it from the bottom of a well. Trust Anya to reduce me to near incoherence with a simple question. I grabbed for my water, downing half the glass in a single swallow.
Her foot started a slow slide around my ankle. I slugged down more water. Walking out of the restaurant with a visible erection was sure to come up in the family group chat.
“You’ll have to show me where you go sometime.” Her grin was playful, soft color flowing into her cheeks. “It’s always been on my fucket list.”
I choked, coughing, as water cascaded down my windpipe. Hacking and struggling to breathe, I hunched over the table.
“Are you okay?” She stood to rub my back as I continued to fight for my life. And to my claim that I could be the tortoise. Anya at her most playful was deadly to my self-restraint.
I finally caught my breath, and she sat down.
“Sorry about that.” I scraped my hand over my head, pushing back my hair. “Tell me more about this fucket list.”
She trailed a delicate fingertip down the condensation on her glass, avoiding my gaze. Watching her finger slip through the moisture, sending droplets cascading to the table as inevitably as rain threatened to rekindle my group chat problem.
“It’s silly.”
“No, it’s not. I really want to know.”
She arched one brow. “Because it involves me getting naked?”
“I mean, I’m not mad about that part, but I’m curious about the rest. Skinny-dipping and…”
“Ride in a hot air balloon. Move to a new city. Go kayaking on a bioluminescent night. Own a business.”
“Pretty sure you’ve already completed a few of those, but if you’re interested in a partner, I’m game. We could absolutely knock off the rest together.”
Her grin turned mischievous. “You just want to see me naked.”
“Absolutely.” I pointed a finger at her. “But don’t deny you were just imagining me shirtless before I did my impression of a faulty water fountain. I’m not the only hornball at this table.”
Anya’s lips twisted in the tiniest smile. “Guilty.”
When we were mellow and almost too full to move, I paid our check and extended my hand. “Want to walk a bit before I take you home?”
As each course arrived, Anya relaxed more, letting me see the woman behind the relentless positivity. The beauty of Nautilus’s one-seating format was that we weren’t in a hurry. We talked about everything and nothing, from what it was like growing up on a tiny island to how she got into yoga.
I was careful not to ask too many questions about her life before San Juan Island. Every time I skirted a topic that hinted at her past, she tensed, a shadow falling across her features. She clearly wasn’t ready to talk about what really brought her to our island. And I chose not to push.
She shook her head ruefully, sipping on an after-dinner cappuccino. “I still can’t believe Gran helped you paper mâché a shark fin so you could swim Eagle Cove and scare away all the tourists.”
“Honey, she didn’t just help. She planned the whole damn thing. We wanted the beach to ourselves for once. We werepretty easy to convince. Cole filmed and posted it.” I winced, face contorting into an exaggerated grimace. “Of course, then we learned she wanted everyone gone so she could go skinny-dipping and not get arrested. I’d pay to erase some of my family memories.”
Anya’s shoulders shook with laughter, her eyes streaming with tears. “Every time I feel like I’ve got a handle on you and your family, I realize I’ve underestimated you all.”
I grinned, unrepentant. “We’re a rowdy bunch, but we grow on you.”
She toyed with the rim of her cup, her lashes sweeping down to hide her eyes from me, her lips pursing in a secretive smile. “Yeah, you do.” She smirked. “So… haveyouever gone skinny-dipping?” Her gaze dropped to my chest, dragging down my body. Like she was most definitely imagining me naked.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tease her that I wasn’t a piece of meat. But her admiring glance was enough to stop me. I shifted in my chair, spreading my legs, brushing her knee under the table. Something fired in her blue eyes, a flicker of heat. I nudged her thigh gently again, turning it into a slow stroke, pleased when her thigh tilted closer to maintain contact.
“Have you?”
I blinked. What was her question?
“Gone naked?” she prompted.
“You bet.” My voice sounded like I’d scraped it from the bottom of a well. Trust Anya to reduce me to near incoherence with a simple question. I grabbed for my water, downing half the glass in a single swallow.
Her foot started a slow slide around my ankle. I slugged down more water. Walking out of the restaurant with a visible erection was sure to come up in the family group chat.
“You’ll have to show me where you go sometime.” Her grin was playful, soft color flowing into her cheeks. “It’s always been on my fucket list.”
I choked, coughing, as water cascaded down my windpipe. Hacking and struggling to breathe, I hunched over the table.
“Are you okay?” She stood to rub my back as I continued to fight for my life. And to my claim that I could be the tortoise. Anya at her most playful was deadly to my self-restraint.
I finally caught my breath, and she sat down.
“Sorry about that.” I scraped my hand over my head, pushing back my hair. “Tell me more about this fucket list.”
She trailed a delicate fingertip down the condensation on her glass, avoiding my gaze. Watching her finger slip through the moisture, sending droplets cascading to the table as inevitably as rain threatened to rekindle my group chat problem.
“It’s silly.”
“No, it’s not. I really want to know.”
She arched one brow. “Because it involves me getting naked?”
“I mean, I’m not mad about that part, but I’m curious about the rest. Skinny-dipping and…”
“Ride in a hot air balloon. Move to a new city. Go kayaking on a bioluminescent night. Own a business.”
“Pretty sure you’ve already completed a few of those, but if you’re interested in a partner, I’m game. We could absolutely knock off the rest together.”
Her grin turned mischievous. “You just want to see me naked.”
“Absolutely.” I pointed a finger at her. “But don’t deny you were just imagining me shirtless before I did my impression of a faulty water fountain. I’m not the only hornball at this table.”
Anya’s lips twisted in the tiniest smile. “Guilty.”
When we were mellow and almost too full to move, I paid our check and extended my hand. “Want to walk a bit before I take you home?”
Table of Contents
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