Page 21 of A Shore Fling

I glance at him, noting the stern set of his mouth. “Yes, we can.”

“Thanks again, Nina. You’ve blown my mind with your ideas.”

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Reed tells me.

Travis grunts.

“Sounds good,” I say.

Travis wraps his hand around mine, leading me toward the door.

“See you later, bro,” Reed calls out, chuckling.

“Not if I can help it,” Travis mumbles, pushing open the door.

We pause just outside. The air touched by the evening breeze feels slightly cooler now.

Across from us, a row of shops I hadn’t noticed before glows with warm, inviting light.

One in particular, with an emerald-green door catches my eye.

“I haven’t seen those shops yet,” I say, tipping my head toward them.

“Would you like to check them out?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes, let’s. That one looks like it could be full of treasures or haunted dolls. Either way, I’m intrigued.”

He smirks. “If we end up cursed, I’m blaming you.”

We cross the street and step through the green door into a place that smells like old books and cinnamon.

The floorboards creak beneath our feet, and the walls are lined with shelves packed with an eclectic mix of items. Vintage postcards are displayed on a turning shelf.

Small antique frames line one shelf while tarnished brass compasses and jars of sea glass line another.

There are aged hardcover books and framed photos of people long forgotten.

“This place is amazing,” I whisper, taking a closer look at the pictures. I pick one up and do a double-take. “The guy in this photo looks just like Reed.”

“Let me see.” I hand the frame to Travis. He squints at the image. “Dammit, I need my glasses.”

“You wear glasses?”

“Just for reading.”

“Hold on a sec,” I say, stepping across the aisle. “Bingo.” I pluck a magnifying glass from the shelf and hand it to Travis.

“Thanks.” He holds it over the framed image. “Holy shit. This is a picture of my grandparents.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. The cottage in the background is the one my parents still live in.”

“That’s crazy. I wonder how it ended up here.”

“I have no idea, but I have to purchase it.”

We browse along each aisle. I spend too much time looking at mismatched tea cups and saucers and jars filled with old buttons.

“This place looks like my grandmother’s attic exploded in here,” Travis says.

“Isn’t it the best?” I gently run my fingertips along the worn spine of a leather-bound book.

He picks up a wooden puppet with a cracked smile and tangled strings. “Think this one’s cursed?”

I grimace. “Oh, without a doubt, that thing comes to life at night.”

He grins and sets it back down carefully, like it might bite him. I wander deeper into the store and then pause at a basket of enamel pins shaped like different sea creatures. I hold up a lobster one. “Do you think the Rock Lobster needs a new addition?”

He laughs. “Definitely.”

I move toward a narrow table stacked with hand-painted wooden signs. One reads life’s a beach, and so are you . I hold it up. “I might need to get this for my sister.”

“I hope she has a sense of humor.”

“She does. You’d really like her.”

“Check this out. I found a sign for Reed,” Travis says, holding it up for me to read. Stand closer, it’s not as long as you think.

I laugh, and it echoes softly in the quiet store. “There’s his Christmas present.”

“That’s a great idea,” he says, tucking it beneath his arm.

“Stick with me. I’m full of them.”

He nods slowly. “I’m beginning to realize that.”

We meander down another aisle. “I can’t remember the last time I wandered through a shop without rushing.”

“City living must feel like another world compared to here,” he says.

“It does.”

“Do you miss it?” I hear genuine curiosity in his tone.

“Not really. I miss my sister, and I miss my mattress. I don’t miss working fifteen hour days and board meetings that feel so redundant I want to tear my hair out.”

“Would you consider working for a different company?” he asks.

A sharp laugh slips free. “That would never happen.”

“Why not? If you’re not happy, shouldn’t you get a new job?”

“You’d think that’s the way it should be, but not in my family. I think my dad would have me blackballed before he’d let me go to work for one of our competitors.”

“Damn. That’s brutal.”

“Yeah, you don’t have the kind of success he’s had without being a hardass.”

“I couldn’t work in the corporate field. If I didn’t agree with something, I’d tell them.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well. I do a lot of tongue biting to keep myself quiet.”

“That’s a shame,” he says. “I bet you have a lot to offer that they’re missing out on.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. The only feedback my dad and my brother value from me is when it involves making more money. But hey, that’s my job.”

“I think I’m beginning to understand why you ran away.”

“Yep. And to think it brought me right here in this moment with you,” I point out.

He smiles. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

We finish exploring the shop and then head to the checkout. The clerk puts down the book she’s reading. “Did you find everything you need?”

“And then some,” I say, placing the lobster pin on the counter. She gives me the total, and I hand over the cash.

She rings up Travis’ sign and the picture of his grandparents. He passes over the cash, and she wraps each item in paper before bagging them.

“That was fun,” I say once we’ve exited the shop. “Thank you for being so patient while I puttered around.”

“No thanks necessary. I enjoyed it too. There was some interesting stuff in there.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the creepy puppet?” I ask.

“I mean, it could be a Christmas gift for one of my brothers,” he says, grinning.

“I have a feeling it’s not going anywhere, so you have time to think about it.”

“I’m guessing you’re right.”

We cross the street and walk to the bike rack. Travis tucks the bag in the basket on the front of the bike. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes. I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“Wait until you try the tacos from the food truck up the road. That’s where we’re going next.”

“There’s a food truck?”

He nods. “And it’s got the best queso on the planet.”

A ride on a bicycle for two, browsing in a shop, and dinner? I think I’m supposed to tell myself this isn’t a date. But it sure feels like one.