Page 21 of Sea La Vie (The Outer Banks #1)

“ P ay attention, son.”

Huh?” I ask, still looking in the opposite direction.

“I said pay attention, and help me get this cooler out of the boat.”

I continue to stare at the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, Dad’s words going through one ear and out the other.

Smack. I whirl around, looking for whatever just hit me in the head and knocked my hat off.

“Really?” I ask, warmth flooding my cheeks. At my feet is one of the fish we caught earlier, right beside my hat. I bend down and scoop it up, shoving it in my back pocket. I hope she didn’t see.

“Are you going to help or just stand there catching flies?” Dad asks. “You’re gaping like you’ve never seen a girl before.”

“Am not,” I mutter. I bend down and grab the other end of the cooler and hoist it up onto the dock while dad pushes from the other end. He reaches out a hand, and I take it, helping him out of the boat.

“You did good today, kid,” he says and ruffles my hair. My face flames again, and I glance out the side of my eye to see if she noticed. She has her back turned to me now, talking to who I assume are her parents.

She’s dressed in a pale blue dress that reaches right below her knees, and a bow the same color holds back her pretty copper-colored hair.

Her dad has a suit on with shoes shinier than a new penny.

Her mom is dressed similarly to her, with a floral print dress and sensible, black shoes.

Her dad hands her a wad of bills, and she places them in a pocketbook I hadn’t noticed before.

“Thanks,” I tell Dad, finally registering his compliment.

“I’m going to take you out again tomorrow morning,” Dad says. “Same time. You’re eighteen now, and this company will be on your shoulders one day.”

I nod, although my heart sinks. I have dreams bigger than fishing my whole life, but telling Dad that isn’t going to get me anywhere but grounded. “Yes sir.”

Dad looks at me for a beat then sighs. “Can I give you one piece of advice, son?”

“Sure,” I respond, almost hesitantly.

“She’ll only break your heart,” he says.

“Who?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Women are trouble, and the sooner you realize that, the happier you’ll be.” He picks up one end of the cooler then turns back to me. “I have a feeling you’re going to have to learn that the hard way, though.”

I chew on my lower lip while I pull my hat from my back pocket. I know Dad doesn’t believe much in love, given my mom took off on us when I was a kid. My memories of her are sparse, and sometimes I wonder if they’re real or just a dream I had.

“Be back home in time for supper,” he says. He ruffles my hair again then walks down the docks, dragging the cooler back to his truck. I stay rooted in place until I see his taillights disappear.

The girl is alone now, wandering the sidewalk in front of the shops that line Water Street.

She stops and peers in the window of one every so often before coming to a lemonade stand.

How can I get her attention? I rake a hand through my hair and smooth the front of my shirt, then send up a prayer that I don’t smell too strongly of fish.

I watch as she hands over a few of the bills her father gave her and takes the lemonade. As she continues to stroll, a dollar bill escapes from her purse and flies behind her.

“Excuse me, miss?” I jog the short distance from the docks to the shops across the street. “Miss!”

Finally, she stops and turns around. “You dropped this,” I say, trying to hide the fact that I’m out of breath. Not because of jogging, but because she’s so painfully beautiful . She blinks, long lashes framing dark eyes.

“Oh,” she says, eyes wide. “Thank you so much.” I hand over the dollar bill and she tucks it safely back into her purse then sways slightly from left to right.

“I’m Beau,” I blurt out before she has the chance to turn away.

She smiles—two rows of straight, white teeth behind pink lips—and suddenly I’m self-conscious of the way I must look after a long day of fishing.

“I’m Emma.” She seems to sense my apprehension and sticks a hand out to shake. I take it, lightly kissing her knuckles instead.

“It’s nice to meet you.” I realize I’m still holding her hand and drop it quickly.

Two rosy spots bloom along her narrow cheekbones. “It’s nice to meet you too, Beau.”

“I haven’t seen you around,” I say. “Are you here for vacation?” Widow’s Wharf isn’t known as a vacation destination, but rather a fishing town, so I really am curious as to why she’s here.

“No,” she says. “My father is here to start up the bank along the waterfront.” Her eyes lift as she points toward Water Street.

I follow her gaze to the building that’s been under construction for the past several months. “Oh, he’s going to be the manager?” I ask.

“Kind of, for a few months until the person he’s training is able to take over.”

“So you’re here for longer than a week?” I ask, hope bubbling inside my chest.

She giggles, shyly. “Yes. I’ll be here for the summer.”

“That’s great!” I say. “I was looking for a friend named Emma. What are the odds?” I shoot her a wink, and the rosy spots darken further.

“I’m glad I can be of assistance,” she says, eyes sparkling. I motion toward the docks on the other side of the road.

“Would you like to go for a walk with me, Emma?”

She glances around then nods. “It’s beautiful here. To be honest, I was dreading this summer because who wants to spend their summer break in a place called Widow’s Wharf? I see I clearly had the wrong impression about this place.”

I laugh. “It’s North Carolina’s best kept secret. So, where are you from?”

“Charleston, South Carolina,” she says. She drawls out the ‘i’ in Carolina ever so slightly, and I want to hear her say it again.

“I’ve never been there,” I say. “I’ve never been anywhere outside of Widow’s Wharf, unless you count out there.” I nod toward the water. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the world and putting on a show for Emma’s first day here.

“Oh?” she says.

“My dad’s a fisherman and I’m taking over the business one day,” I say proudly.

“That’s our boat right there.” I point over a few docks to our boat, rocking gently in its dock.

It’s a newer one among the crowd of others.

Dad had finally saved enough for it last summer, and although things were tight now, we knew it would eventually pay off since our previous boat was on its last leg.

“That’s amazing, Beau!” Emma smiles. “So you’ve graduated high school, then?”

I nod, proudly, the first in my family to do so.

“Me too,” she says. “I’m going to the College of Charleston in the fall. I think I’d like to study nursing.” My heart sinks at the thought of her leaving, even if it is three months from now.

“So, Beau, what is there to do in this town? It’s going to be an awfully long summer if all I can do is walk along the boardwalk and shop,” she teases.

“Oh, there’s plenty,” I promise her. “You just have to know someone from here. And lucky for you,” I gesture down the length of my torso, “He’s right here.”

The bells from our only church a street over chime seven times and I grimace. “And, he’s going to be late for dinner if he doesn’t leave right now.”

Emma frowns, “I should probably get going too.”

“Meet me back here tomorrow at the same time, okay?” I ask. “I want to take you somewhere I think you’ll like.”

She smiles, and my stomach does a little flip-flop. “Okay, Beau.”

I begin walking backward, wanting to soak in every second with her I can, and hating to leave her. I trip over a curb, stumbling, but right myself quickly.

“Tomorrow, Emma!” I yell. “I’ll be counting down the hours!”

She hides her smile behind a hand and nods, enthusiastically enough for the copper waves surrounding her face to bounce.

“Okay?” I yell, a few hundred yards from her now.

“Okay!” she waves back.