Page 19 of A Shore Fling

TRAVIS

I ’ve been thinking about Nina off and on all day.

Whenever I didn’t have something work related to focus on, she would pop into my mind, and I wasn’t in a rush to push her out.

Somewhere around mid afternoon I decided I would swing by her cottage on the way home.

So here I am, turning into her driveway, hoping she’s here.

The bike leans against the porch where she left it yesterday.

I knock once, then again louder when there’s no answer. A second later, she appears in the doorway, barefoot with her hair pulled back and a book in her hand. She looks surprised, but not annoyed, to see me. That’s a win.

“Everything okay?” she asks, stepping out onto the porch.

“Yeah. I figured since you were headed into town yesterday and didn’t end up going, I could take you.”

Her lips quirk. “Are you offering me a ride or rescuing me again?”

“I’m offering you a ride, and I’m rescuing you from boredom.”

She holds up the book in her hand. “I’m never bored when I’m reading a great story.”

I feel a frown digging deep between my eyebrows. “So you don’t want to come with me?”

She considers for a second, then nods. “Let me grab my sandals.”

Five minutes later, we’re in my truck with the windows down and the early evening air rolling in. She’s quiet for the first few blocks, watching the town pass by. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer than usual. “Thanks. For yesterday.”

“You’re welcome. You planning on getting back on the bike?”

“Oh, for sure, just not today.”

I grin. “Fair enough.”

We stop at a cluster of shops near the pier. A bakery, a used bookstore, Reed’s surf shop, and a deli with a chalkboard sign out front that lists everything they offer.

“Smells like heaven,” she says as we step out of the truck.

“The salt air or the food?” I ask.

“Both.”

I scratch the back of my neck. “Where do you want to go first?” I’m not much of a fan of shopping, but for her, I could be. Or at the very least, I can fake it.

“I’d love to go to the bookstore.”

I let out an ironic laugh. “I should’ve figured.” We walk along the cobblestones and enter One Page at a Time. “Should I find somewhere to sit?”

“No, I won’t be long. I know exactly what I want,” she says, wandering off.

I find a large section with magazines and look through them. Nina holds true to her word and is done checking out within five minutes.

“That was impressive,” I tell her.

“Thanks.”

“Where to now?”

She points to the store next door. “Is that Reed’s surf shop?”

“Yep. Wanna go see it?”

She smiles. “You bet.”

When I open the door, the customer alert tone sounds like wind chimes. Inside smells like wax, neoprene, and incense. It’s part retail and part local hangout, with surfboards and skateboards mounted on the crisp white walls. Locals and tourists mill about, checking out the merchandise.

Reed’s behind the counter, typing something on the iPad register. He looks up, surprised for a second, then grins. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

“I come here all the time,” I say.

“Yeah, but not with company.” He waggles his eyebrows.

I grunt. “Nina wanted to come in.”

Nina glances between us, clearly amused. “Hi, Reed. Your shop is great. I love the vibe.”

“Thanks.” He comes around the counter. “The grand opening was two months ago, and business has been pretty steady since.”

“I can see why. I need to look around more closely,” she says, drifting toward a display of long-sleeved shirts and lightweight hoodies with the shop’s logo on the chest and the town’s zip code printed in large numbers on the back.

She runs her fingers over one of the sweatshirts and lifts it from the hanger.

“These are so soft, and I love this color.”

“Take it,” I say, leaning a hip against the counter.

She looks up. “No, I’m just browsing.”

I shrug. “Call it a reward for surviving your first biking injury.”

Reed raises a brow but wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Nina glances between the two of us and finally drapes the hoodie over her arm, then wanders toward the back, where boards in every size and color line the long wall like artwork.

When she finally returns, she’s got the hoodie and a tank top in hand.

“Do you sell beach coverups for women?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “No.”

“What about beach hats for women?”

He points toward the right side of the store. “There are some different colored caps and beanies over there.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I saw those, but I’m looking for something with a wider brim.”

“She’s looking for something more stylish,” I add, smirking at her.

She smiles, shrugging. “Just because I’m at the beach doesn’t mean I don’t want to look my best.”

Reed considers what she said. “I never thought about carrying that kind of stuff.”

“Do a lot of pre-teens and teenagers buy their boards here?”

Reeds nods vigorously. “It’s the only place in town. That demographic makes up a huge part of my sales.”

“Who takes them shopping for their boards?”

“Their parents.”

“Right. And I bet more often than not, if it’s during the day, it might be their mom shuttling them around.”

He takes a moment to think about it. “I think you’re right.”

“Why not take advantage of them being in your shop and offer items they could be interested in purchasing for themselves?”

His eyes light up. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

She laughs, patting him on the arm. “Because you didn’t have me helping you.”

“Are you some kind of marketing guru?” he asks, looking at her as if he’s seeing her in a new way.

“I don’t know about a guru, but I’ve learned a lot about marketing over the years.”

“Well, now I want to pick your brain for more ideas. Would you be willing to help me figure out what items would appeal to women?”

“Sure, but you could also ask Willow.”

He laughs. “Will? She’s like one of the guys. I don’t think she cares about fancy hats and coverups.”

“One of the guys?” Nina scoffs. “Have you looked at her? She’s so sexy, she makes me question my heterosexuality.”

Reed holds up a hand. “I’m not saying she’s not pretty, but it’s hard to see her that way. She’s been part of our circle since we were kids, and can probably kick most of our asses if she tried.”

Nina smiles. “You guys are lucky to have such a great group of friends.”

I nudge her arm with mine. “Now they’re your friends too.”

Her smile widens. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I yank my wallet from my back pocket. “Ring up her stuff.”

She places her hand over mine. “I’ve got it.”

I slowly shake my head. “I already told you it’s your reward.”

“I’ll buy the tank top.” She tries to bargain.

I shake my head and hand my debit card over to Reed. “Don’t worry, I get the family discount.”

Reed laughs. “I should make you pay more for having to deal with you.” He hands my card back to me and then bags up Nina’s things. “So, Nina, when can you stop by again? I’m serious about wanting your feedback.”

I shove my wallet back in my pocket a little too forcefully.

This fucker wants my girl to help him? My girl?

When did I start thinking about her that way?

Was it when she kissed me so tenderly to comfort me?

Or maybe when she tucked me in for the night?

Whenever it was, it snuck up on me like a stealthy ninja.

“My schedule is wide open,” she tells him.

“How about tomorrow night?” I quickly insert myself. “I can give you a ride.”

Reed nods. “That works for me.”

“Sure,” Nina agrees.

Reed hands her the bag with her items. “See you then.”

Nina starts toward the door. I’m about to follow when Reed’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. I peer back at him as he mutters softly, “Don’t fuck this up.”

I give a sharp nod before I follow her from the store. The sun’s sinking lower, casting the shops and pier in a soft golden haze.

“Do you still want to grab something to eat?” I ask.

“Yes, please. I’m dying to have a lobster roll.”

My hand finds and clasps hers. “I know the perfect place.” I lead her to a small standalone building situated near the pier. “This place is only open from Memorial Day through mid-September every year,” I explain as we walk up to the window.

“How come?”

“The owners go south for the offseason.”

Nina’s lips twist into a grimace. “I bet the winters are miserable up here.”

“They can be. But living near the ocean keeps the snowfall somewhat down. We just deal with the wind, and worry about the ocean dragging us all out to sea.” I laugh.

Her eyes flash wider. “That doesn’t sound scary at all.”

“I’ve lived here for forty years and haven’t floated away yet.” I squeeze her hand. “You can’t say the same.”

She laughs. “I guess not.”

We order two lobster rolls, chips, and drinks, and I throw in a couple of whoopie pies because it’s practically law around here. A few minutes later, we walk along the pier to a long bench. We sit side by side, the sky streaked in warm tones of pink and orange. Boats bob lazily out on the water.

She takes a bite, then hums like she’s just tasted something divine. “Okay, this is dangerous. I could eat ten of these.”

“You’d regret it halfway through the second one.”

“Probably. But it’d be worth it.”

We fall into easy conversation about the shops, the locals, and the weird names some of the boats riding by have. I notice the way her shoulders relax the longer we sit here, as if she’s settling into our new adversarial dynamic. “You’re a great addition to this town,” I tell her.

She turns to me. “What do you mean?”

“You’re friendly and kind. You ask questions and notice things. This place can get a little stuck in its ways, and you’ve shaken it up a little.”

“Shaken it up how? I shipwrecked a boat, floated away on an inner tube, poisoned the town’s harbormaster, and fell off a bike in front of a church.”

“Poisoning me made you an instant legend with my brothers and friends at the very least.”

She laughs, brushing a stray hair off her cheek. The wind picks it right back up and drags it across her face. I want to reach over and tuck it behind her ear, but I don’t. I just watch her instead, like the awkward teenage boy I thought I left behind over twenty years ago.

She catches me looking and lifts a brow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She doesn’t press, just turns her gaze back to the water.

We eat the rest of our lobster rolls in a comfortable silence. When we’re done, she leans back against the bench, one knee pulled up.

“I can see how this place burrows so deep inside you that you never want to leave.”

“Yeah, it has a way of doing that.”

“It’s not just the views or the lobster rolls—and let me just say that lobster roll was freaking fantastic. This place is calming. I feel like I can breathe deeper here.”

I nod, because that’s precisely what it is. And hearing her say it makes something in my chest stir. But then I remind myself she won’t be one of the people who stay here forever. Her life is waiting for her back in New York City. But I don’t want to think about that right now.

I open the container with our dessert. “Have you ever had a whoopie pie?”

“Nope.”

“Get ready to fall in love.” I hold up the small box, and she takes one of the chocolaty treats. “You’re going to need some napkins.” I hand her a small stack.

She eyes the round pie. “Should I be scared?”

“Only about how addictive they are.”

She raises it to her mouth, taking a tentative taste. Almost immediately she goes back in for a larger bite. “Oh my God.” She hums, her eyes briefly closing. “Where have you been all my life?”

I know what she means. I’m feeling the same, and it has nothing to do with dessert.

We finish the rest of the whoopie pies slowly, savoring them like we’re trying to make the moment last. She licks a smudge of chocolate from her thumb and then settles deeper into the bench, crossing her long legs at the ankles.

I try not to ogle the expanse of skin that’s becoming more golden by the hour.

Her fingers brush a crumb from her lap, and when she glances over at me, I can’t help noticing a streak of cream near the corner of her mouth.

“Hold still,” I say, leaning toward her.

Her brows lift slightly, but she doesn’t move.

I reach up and drag the pad of my thumb across the lower edge of her bottom lip, wiping the cream away.

The moment stretches, the air between us thickening.

Her eyes flick up to mine, and I swear my heart skips a beat.

She doesn’t pull away. Neither do I. There’s a flicker of curiosity in her expression. She’s watching me the same way I’m watching her. Like we’re both balancing on the edge of something big, and waiting for the other to leap. So I do.

Leaning in slowly, I give her ample time to stop me.

She doesn’t. There’s a slight hitch to her breath right before my lips softly brush hers.

It’s more of a whisper than a kiss, but she instantly responds, tilting her head and parting her lips under mine.

Taking it deeper, my tongue caresses hers while my hands move up to frame her face.

Her hand slides up my chest and curves around the back of my neck.

The kiss lasts longer than it should. Long enough that the gulls circling above and the distant sound of kids down by the pier fade into background noise.

When we finally break apart, her eyes remain closed for a second, like she’s savoring the moment.

Then they flutter open slowly. “Wow. That was…”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, it was.”

Neither of us say anything more. We stay seated on the bench, our arms touching, watching the shifting colors of the sunset and the way they’re reflected on the water.

I don’t even scold myself for kissing her or think about how I shouldn’t have crossed the line. I’m done trying to talk myself out of wanting Nina. It’s too late to put the brakes on my feelings for her. It’s time to accept the inevitable and enjoy whatever time we can have together.