Page 178 of The Havenport Collection

Wyatt

I turned the corner and was met with a dazzling smile.

“Good morning,” Sylvie shouted, waving at me wildly.

I was tired, and it was freezing cold, but her smile warmed me right up.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, not knowing whether to hug her or shake her hand.

Yesterday had been one of the longest days of my life.

Aside from the lack of sleep, I was counting the minutes until I could see Sylvie again.

When she suggested meeting for breakfast, I jumped right out of bed and into the shower.

She reached out and pulled me into a tight hug. “So I was thinking we could start at the diner and then make our way down to the harbor,” she said into my chest.

“Sounds good to me,” I said, releasing her.

She was wearing thick tights, her combat boots, a bright red peacoat, and had a red-and-white striped beanie on top of her long hair.

Her face was pink from the cold and as much as I promised I would behave myself, I just couldn’t.

So I pulled her into me and kissed her gently.

Nothing crazy, but not exactly a PG kiss for a Tuesday morning on a street corner.

I heard a whistling sound. “Get a room, you two.”

I looked up and saw a young woman across the street wearing a puffy down jacket over medical scrubs standing outside High Tide.

Sylvie looked around to make sure no one was watching and gave her the middle finger. The woman blew a kiss and then went into the coffee shop.

“That’s Eliza. My oldest friend. She’s a nurse at the hospital and works overnights. She is always super hyper first thing in the morning because she’s going home to go to bed.”

I put my arm around her and pulled her close, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “Interesting. Did you tell her about me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“It’s a small town; I wouldn’t want to get a bad reputation.”

“Your reputation all comes down to the old ladies. They are the true influencers in this town. Get in with them, and you’re set for life.”

I nodded. “Good to know.”

She pulled the door open and gestured for me to go inside. “And you are about to meet the queen bee. Just make sure to eat a lot, and she will love you.”

We made our way into a fifties-style diner that was a mishmash of classic Americana and twenty-first-century upgrades.

The booths were bright red vinyl, and a shiny chrome lunch counter ran the length of the building.

It was warm and inviting and smelled like maple syrup and coffee.

All around us, Havenport citizens of all ages were reading newspapers, sipping coffee, and gossiping with their neighbors.

Sylvie pulled me into a booth and pulled off her hat, leaving her with the cutest damn hat hair I had ever seen. “You are so adorable,” I said, gently tucking the hair behind her ear.

She grasped my hand and pulled it to her lips in a gentle kiss. “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” she replied, giving me a lascivious wink.

Before I could contemplate the promise of that statement, we were accosted by an older woman in a powder-blue uniform and frilly apron. She had pencils stuck in her beehive hairdo and jeweled glasses hung on a chain around her neck. “What do we have here?”

She held a steaming glass coffeepot and her eyebrows reached her hairline. “Sylvie Morgan. Are you on a date?”

Before Sylvie could respond, the lady held out a hand to me. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Um. Wyatt. Wyatt Ford. Ma’am.”

“And what brings you to Havenport?”

I sat up straight, like my mother taught me. “I just started a job at Binnacle Brewing. I’m apprenticing with Liam Quinn.”

She put her hand over her heart. “Oh, dear Liam. I just love him to bits. My husband, Joe, and I had the loveliest time at his wedding this fall. And I see you’ve made friends with our little Sylvie.

She is just too talented. Went to Berklee, you know.

Quite the musical prodigy. The whole town is so proud of her. ”

Sylvie stared at her coffee cup, ignoring Jackie’s compliments.

“I agree. She played in the taproom this weekend, and I was blown away by her talent.”

Jackie reached out and patted my cheek. “Sylvie, dear, your new boyfriend is so handsome.” She pretended to fan herself.

“I’m not…” I said, tripping over my words.

“We’re just friends,” Sylvie said, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Jackie gave her a patronizing smile. “Sure you are, sugar.”

She poised her pen on her notepad and looked at me. “Wyatt, I am so thrilled you came by the diner. I hope you’re hungry.”

I smiled at her. “Yes ma’am. I am starving. And everything smells so delicious. Are there any specials I should be aware of?”

“A growing boy like yourself needs a proper breakfast. I’ll bring you some corned beef hash and eggs. It is our specialty. And a short stack of pancakes. My husband is not much to look at, but his pancakes are legendary.”

She filled our coffee cups and finally turned her attention to Sylvie who began to give her order.

“Oooh,” Jackie interrupted. “I’ll bring you an English muffin too, sweetie. I make them fresh every day, and you will love it.” She patted my shoulder, and Sylvie stared at me openmouthed.

After Jackie left the table, Sylvie demanded, “How did you do that? How did you charm her so easily?”

I shrugged and took a sip of coffee.

“Look.” She pointed to where Jackie was leaning on the counter furiously texting. “She is telling everyone all about you.”

I smirked. “What can I say? Ladies love me.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Clearly. You are so polite with your ma’ams and your flirty winks. She was putty in your big strong hands.”

“Everyone wants to feed me. It’s a universal feminine urge. I’m like a chubby baby; people think I’m cute.”

Sylvie reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “I don’t feel like that. You aren’t cute. You’re hot, and strong, and have really sexy hands.” She ran her delicate fingers over my palms and I shuddered with lust. “I look at you and just want to make out with your face.”

I stared at her—gazing at her freckles and her nose ring and her general air of Sylvie-ness—and blushed deeply. To have a woman like her say out loud that she was attracted to me? I was flying.

Before I could respond, Jackie arrived with an armful of plates and the promise of more if I was still hungry. I looked down at enough food to feed a soccer team and laughed.

“Tell me all about you,” I said after Jackie had cleared our mostly empty plates.

She shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ears. “There’s not much to tell. I grew up here. It’s a great town. Went to college in Boston, lived there for a bit, and then moved back here.”

We sat for ages, sipping coffee and talking about everything and nothing.

We both loved The Office and Seinfeld , and we had both spent summers in Bristol, Maine.

We had probably been there at the same time, tide pooling and splashing in the cold Maine water while our parents ate lobster and relaxed on the beach.

I loved being here with Sylvie. Talking to her was so natural. Normally, I was the strong and silent type, but with Sylvie I had so much to say.

Suddenly, she looked up at me with a pained expression. She gently took my hand. “Wyatt, there is something I need to tell you.”

My heart sank. She had a boyfriend. Or I had imagined this attraction and she was letting me down easy. Shit.

“I’m moving to Connecticut in a few weeks. I got a new job there.”

I was perplexed. “Connecticut? Is that a good place for the music industry?”

She gazed down at the paper placemat, smoothing it out slowly with her fingers. “I actually got a job at a pharmaceutical company there doing sales.” She didn’t meet my gaze, continuing to stare at the table.

“I’m confused,” I said, running my fingers through my unruly hair. “You’re a songwriter and a music teacher.”

She vigorously shook her head. “I am not a songwriter. I have never sold anything, and I’m so insecure I can’t even share my songs with anyone anymore. I’m a music teacher who occasionally plays gigs around town for fun.”

“But you said you write songs all the time. You should share your talents with the world.”

She raised her eyes quickly and then looked away again. She seemed so upset, I wanted to gather her into my arms and soothe her. “Thank you for saying that. But I need to move on. Get a real job and a career path.”

“Music is a career. Do you love it?”

“Of course.”

“And you make a living?”

“Yeah. Not a ton, but I do okay teaching.” She waved a hand at me. “But that’s not the point, Wyatt. I am sick of being a failure. I need to grow up and learn to be an adult.”

I felt sick to my stomach. Was this how she thought of herself? “Sylvie, you are an adult—an incredible, talented, passionate adult. As far as I know, you are employed, have a home and a car, and pay your taxes. So I’d say you’re killing it at adulting.”

She cracked a smile. “Thanks. But I’m never going to make it as a songwriter. I can’t even show my stuff to anyone. I love teaching, but I need to grow up—you know, have a corporate job with benefits and growth potential and a retirement plan.”

“Those things don’t make you more or less of an adult, Sylvie. They are just things. Things some people want but others do just fine without.”

I saw her discreetly wipe a tear on the sleeve of her sweater. “Let’s take a walk, okay?” She got out of the booth and grabbed her coat, leaving me trailing behind her.

By the time I caught up to her we were down by the pier.

I could feel her tension as we walked. I didn’t mean to upset her in the diner.

But after spending years neglecting my dreams, I couldn’t stand to see someone else make that mistake.

We stopped and silently watched the boats come in and out of the harbor.

I put my arm around her and pulled her close in an attempt to shield her from the biting wind. “I’m so sorry, Sylvie. I didn’t mean to overstep at the diner.”

She looked up at me with teary eyes. “It’s okay.

I admire your passion. You are pursuing your dream, and I’m so excited for you.

But this is something I need to do.” She looked conflicted and wary, and I wanted to ease all the tension out of her body.

I wanted to take away all her self-doubt and confusion and give her the kind of confidence a woman like her deserved.

I clutched her small hand in mine, feeling her calloused fingers, admiring the strength and beauty of her hands. Hands that made such beautiful music. Hands that I wanted all over my body.

But for now, I would just enjoy the feel of the sunshine on my face, the cold air in my lungs, and the company of a beautiful woman.