Page 10 of Save Me (The Midnight Cove #2)

AMY

U ntil Gunner grins at me and tells me I’m strong, I don’t realize how much I need to hear it.

For so long, I’ve lived the aftermath of what happened, wondering how I would get along, praying for a change that’s yet to come.

But maybe it’s here now, and I wasn’t looking hard enough.

Or maybe I was looking too hard, and I had to stop to let it come to me.

Either way, I’m at a good place now, and I don’t want to fuck it up.

Looking ahead, I see the girls have clasped hands as they run along the boardwalk. “Check them out,” I grin.

“It’s so easy for kids to make friends.” He puts a piece of the cotton candy in his mouth.

“Right? It’s so much harder as an adult—so many things to think about. I haven’t made many friends since we moved here, but I’m trying.”

“I’m your friend,” he announces, holding a piece of the cotton candy up to my mouth.

I give him what I hope is an alluring look as I snake my tongue out, grabbing the sugary confection and pulling it into my mouth.

I make contact with the skin of his fingers, and instead of just sugar, I taste salt too.

The flavor of his skin could be intoxicating if I gave myself permission to revel in it.

His eyes darken with desire, and I’m more than pleased by the reaction. “I’m your friend too.”

“Not sure if friends should be feeling what I’m feeling right now,” his voice is low, for my ears only, even if we’re in a very public place. It’s part gravel, part thirsty. Water isn’t what will quench his thirst, though. I know because I’m right there with him.

“I think the feeling is mutual,” I admit.

“But it scares me.” I allow my vulnerability to show through.

No one has seen it since my husband died.

Since then I’ve been too scared to let others know I need help, that I’m not handling things completely on my own.

Some days I’m a wreck, and I honestly don’t know what I’m doing to better my situation.

It feels like the only thing I’m doing is maintaining status quo, and maybe that’s enough for now.

“No need to be scared with me, Amy. We’ll do things at your pace, or we won’t do them at all.

I’m old enough to know not everyone has a past they can outrun, but I’m also man enough to admit I’d be an asshole if I let you get away.

There’s something about you,” he nods to where the girls are.

“And her. You’ve taken hold of my heart and squeezed the hell out of it.

I want to see where this goes, even if we just end up as friends.

I’ll be the best friend you’ve ever had. ”

Everything in my body wonders if this guy is for real, when I know he hasn’t done anything to make me think otherwise. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

And judging by the grin on his face, I believe him. For the first time in a long time, I’m starting to believe.

“Mom, can we go?” Rosa asks with an excitement I feel as if I haven’t seen in years.

She used to get excited about things all the time, but after her dad died it went away.

There were some days she was like me, not able to get out of bed because the grief was too much for her little body to handle.

Seeing her like this warms me in ways nothing else can.

We’re at the end of the boardwalk and there’s a Ferris wheel.

It’s bigger than I remember it being as a child, or maybe it’s just because back then I had no fear.

Now, everything looks scary to me. I don’t see the excitement of a child; I see the reality of an adult.

So quickly, things can turn from fun to deadly.

We must always weigh the pros with the cons, determine if the chance is really worth taking.

“They’ll be fine.” Gunner breaks into my thoughts, seeming to know I’m being one of those people who weighs everything—the good with the bad, the happy with the sad. “We do drills on this thing; if it can hold a bunch of big firefighters, then holding normal people is good.”

“You?” I nod to the Ferris wheel. “Do drills on this?”

It looks like it can’t even hold me. I’ve seen movies now where these things get ripped off the boardwalk and flung into the ocean, or some outer-space alien comes from above and takes everything in its path.

Stupid, I know, but it’s my reality. This is shit I worry about now.

“Yup,” he seems proud of himself. “So if you want, we can ride in the car on either side of them. I know how to save them if something goes sideways.”

“I have a feeling you know how to save anyone if things go sideways.”

He chuckles. “Dangers of the job, really.”

Those words hit me in a way I’m not expecting.

I know he’s joking, but it still bothers me—the fact I couldn’t help the man I loved deal with all the shit going on in his head.

I’m quiet, but I don’t think he notices as we wait with the girls to climb on.

I climb on before him, sitting on the edge of the seat.

He’s a big guy, so when he scoots in next to me, we take up every part of the seat.

“Are you okay?” he asks as we start slowly moving up. He’s put his arm around my shoulder, and even though I want to relax into his side, I can’t.

It does no good if we start this off not being honest with one another.

Had my husband been honest with me, we would probably still be married and he would have gotten the help he needed.

“Just the way you said the dangers of the job. It reminds me of what you do. It’s nothing about you,” I try to appease him.

“This is just something I’ll have to get used to if I want to keep seeing you. ”

“Damn.” He leans close to my neck. “I didn’t even think about how that might have come off to someone in your situation. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay; I have to quit being sensitive.

Not everyone knows my situation, and someone will always say something that affects me differently than others.

” I look out over the ocean, feeling the peace I craved when I came here.

This place—it saved my life. There wasn’t a TV station begging for a news story; there weren’t well-meaning people wanting to know what happened to him.

I still can’t say his name, even in my thoughts.

I suppose when I can, I’ll be ready to move on.

“The ocean is so pretty,” he whispers as we look out.

The girls are laughing, and I look back to make sure they’re okay and sitting down like they should be. They wave at me, both of them seeming excited to be on their own. I remember how important that was as a kid their age—to prove to the adults that I could take care of myself.

“It is; that’s why we moved back here. I wanted something that would ease the ache in my chest. This seemed like the best place to be.”

“I’m happy you came here.” He grips my shoulder in his palm. “I mean, I know it couldn’t have been easy, but I’m glad you didn’t go somewhere else.”

“Me too,” I grin up at him. “This was the place I needed, and I’ve never been sorry coming here.

In some ways it would have been easier to stay at home and deal with things head-on, but neither of us could have dealt with that.

There were too many memories, too many people wanting answers to questions we didn’t even know we had.

Here we take walks like this without people bothering us. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Thank you for coming.”

On a whim, I reach up, slightly pressing my lips to his cheek, thanking him with a gesture for including us. The day has been fun, and been way more than we would have done, had it just been the two of us.

“Invite us again?” I tease.

“Whenever you wanna come, you don’t even have to ask.”

My brain can’t help but go to other ways he can help me come, and as I settle back in the seat, I do so with red cheeks and a one-track mind.