Page 86

Standing on the hotel patio, I look out at the bright and clear day. The vivid-blue, cloudless sky reminds me of Maeve’s eyes. But everything reminds me of her these days. I’m a lovesick fool when it comes to her.
The Atlantic Ocean is rough, and the whitecaps are plentiful as the tide rolls up onto the shore. A gentle breeze, carrying the scent of salt water, ruffles my hair. The smell of the sea is soothing and helps to calm the rush of emotions whirling around like a tornado inside of me.
Why am I so nervous?
There’s no reason she’d say no to me. We’ve known each other for nine months and been in love with one another for almost as long. I’m forty-three years old. I’ve had plenty of time to gain enough wisdom to know Maeve is the love of my life, and I want to spend every day with her.
“I’m ready,” Maeve calls out as she steps outside next to me.
I can’t help but stare at her, from her head to the red-tipped toes peeking out of her sandals. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She smiles, preening. She brushes her hands over her knee-length sundress. “I love this so much. Thank you for surprising me.”
“You know I like to spoil you.”
“I know you do. I also know how much this designer charges for her clothes. I’m almost afraid to wear it—almost—but it’s too pretty not to.”
“Do you still want to take a walk on the beach?”
She nods. “Let’s go.”
We step from our patio onto the path that leads straight to the beach. When we reach the sand, I kick my slides off and set them to the side, and she places her sandals next to mine. I slip my hand around hers, and we start down the beach. The soft, dry sand is hot under our feet, so I steer us closer to the shoreline.
“I love it here, but I love all beaches,” she says. “One of the hardest things about growing up in Northern Virginia was not being close to the ocean. I know there’s the Chesapeake Shore, but it’s not the same. And don’t mention Virginia Beach because that was hours away.”
“We could always move to Folly Beach. It’s not far from Charleston. And it’s not like we both can’t work from home sometimes.”
“Really? You’d consider moving? I love your house, though.”
“You mean our house?” I remind her.
“I know, I know. But I just moved in, and you bought it. Getting acclimated to a new place takes time. I’ll get there, don’t worry.”
“What would your ideal beach house look like?”
She rolls her lips inward, rubbing them together. “I’d want something with character and charm. It wouldn’t need to be large, but I’d like vaulted ceilings with exposed beams.”
“What about a fireplace?” I ask.
“Yes, and lots of windows to let all the sunlight in. If there’s a view of the ocean from the house, then I’d want a deck to sit on and stare at the water.”
“And when you picture this dream home, who do you see living there with you?” I interrupt.
She smiles up at me. “You and Gwen and maybe a little dog or two.”
She’ll be an amazing stepmom to my daughter.
We reach a bend in the shoreline, and the beach becomes much less populated. The farther we walk, the fewer people we see. My heartbeat turns erratic from nervous energy. I know this area is as perfect a place as I’ll find to propose to Maeve.
“Let’s move up to the dry sand and see if we can find some seashells,” I suggest.
“Ooh, good idea.” She tugs her hand free and immediately begins her search. She picks up a small one and brushes the sand off.
I find a small white shell. “What about this one?”
She takes it from me. “That’s cute.”
“Anything in particular you’re looking for so I can help?” I ask.