Page 53 of Ebbing Tides

THURSDAY

“You know what would be nice?” Melanie asked as she shrugged her leather jacket onto her shoulders.

I eyed the black material, dulled by life and time. It didn’t take a genius to know it’d belonged to someone else before it belonged to her, and I knew without asking that it’d been her husband’s.

I wondered how many times she put it to her nose and breathed deep, wishing it still held his scent, and I knew another man would’ve felt jealous over that, maybe even threatened.

But not me.

I understood.

We’re perfect for each other, I caught myself thinking, but I quickly gave my head a shake, casting the thought aside as I asked, “What?”

“If you had, like … a bed in here or something.” She passed a teasing glance in my direction.

With a chuckle, I nodded.

“I mean, the desk and chair have been thrilling and all, but …”

“My body is telling me a bed would be a lot kinder on my old-man bones,” I muttered in agreement, thinking about my house on the water and wishing there were a way I could show her the view of the lighthouse … and my bedroom.

As if reading my mind, she lifted her gaze to mine and asked, “What are you doing later?”

A long-winded sigh passed through my nose as I took a step toward her, reaching out to tuck a strand of reddish-blonde hair behind her ear. “My dad’s bathing aide is coming by. I kinda have to be around.”

I expected disappointment to cloud her clear blue eyes, but she only nodded with understanding.

“Do you have plans for dinner? Or, um … maybe tomorrow?”

My hand laid against her cheek as my chest swelled with the realization that she was truly into this. Making plans and playing along. She leaned into my touch, turning ever so slightly to kiss my palm.

“No dinner plans. I’ll be at my dad’s place though. Gotta make sure he eats something if he feels like it.”

She bit her lip, hesitation evident before she asked, “Would you … maybe like some company?”

I huffed a sigh. “I don’t know … my dad is—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “You told me he’s—”

“An asshole?”

She laughed. “Well, those weren’t your words, but …”

“Doesn’t make it less true,” I grumbled bitterly.

“All I’m saying is, I want to do this. I want to spend time with you. And tonight, Stormy has to work for a few hours, and Charlie has a couple of graves to dig here”—she gestured toward the window and the cemetery beyond—“so I thought—”

“You wanna bring the boys over to my dad’s place?” I lifted a curious brow, touched when she nodded softly. I sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs as I pulled my hand away to cross my arms over my chest. “I wouldn’t wantany of youmeeting him.”

“That’s okay.”

“I don’t trust him not to say something fucking awful.”

“Oh, I’m a big girl, Max. I can handle it,” she said, sliding her arms around my waist. “But I understand.”

A memory crept in of my father meeting Laura for the first time. His salacious words and wandering eyes. The fucking pig he had been back then, the pig he could still be. I didn’t care that he was an old, sick, dying man. There was no way in hell I was allowing him the chance to say anything to Melanie … or her kids.

But I couldn’t say no to grasping any chance I had of spending time with her.