Page 80 of On Dry Land

He snorts. “Okay, sightseeing trip with plenty of walking and day hikes but where we sleep in a hotel every night. Better?”

“Mm.” I hum, taking a sip of coffee. We could do that right now, if we wanted, with no extended period of saving money needed. But the reason Spencer was so easy to push away was that he was already unsure of whether he was an equal partner. He doesn’t want to feel like a charity case, and I don’t want to treat him like one.

“And…and we’ll agree on a way for me to rent the cottage from you.” He sounds tentative again, his voice and demeanor shifting between sure and uncertain.

“Okay,” I agree, wishing this wasn’t one of the adjustments I’d have to make. I don’t want his money. I don’t want anything from him but what I already had—big brown eyes, smiles, and the company of a person who doesn’t need or ask me to change.

“You’re sure you want me to stay here? At the guesthouse?”

“Yes.” Out of everything we’ve discussed, that’s the one thing I won’t hesitate to take a firm stance on. This is where he belongs.

“Okay. Anything you want?” he asks, a slightly more teasing note to his voice, the wariness melting away by degrees.

“Just you,” I admit, the words sour in my mouth. It doesn’t feel safe, saying things like that out loud. Like handing him a knife and asking him to find a good spot to stab me. Vulnerability is meant to be smothered, not shared. Deciding I’m already in it, so I might as well slit my own throat, I continue. “I much prefer life when you’re around.”

He’s silent for long enough that I begin to regret the words. When I look over at him, he’s chewing his lip in thought. Gently, I take his empty mug from him and slide off the bed to get him a refill. Demon attacks my foot on the way by, tripping me, before scooting off under the bed with a growl.

Leaning my hands against the counter, I watch the machine warm up. I’m so zoned out that I don’t hear Spencer leave the bed, nor the sound of him approaching. Hands on my hips surprise me back to reality. I keep still like he’s an animal I might startle off if I move too quickly, barely breathing as he puts his cheek against my back and wraps his arms around my stomach.

It’s easy to relax then. Easy to close my eyes and listen to the whir of the espresso machine and feel the rise and fall of Spencer’s arms as I breathe. I soak up his warmth like a sponge, the days without it leaving me feeling like I’ve been deprived for years.

“I want you, too,” he agrees, finally breaking the silence. His coffee is ready and waiting on the machine. Neither of us moves to grab it.

“Good. That’s settled, then. No more discussion needed.”

He laughs silently, chest vibrating against my back. It makes me want to smile, to move a little closer and feel his arms wrap a little tighter. Cognizant of the injury to his hand, I don’t put mine on top of his the way I want to.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” he asks suddenly. I roll my eyes.

“Of course not.” This time, the laughter isn’t silent. He presses a kiss between my shoulder blades, making me wish I weren’t wearing a shirt and could feel it against my skin. Sighing, I look up at the ceiling. “It’s possible I could be convinced, though.”

Epilogue

SPENCER

One Year Later

Dryden doesn’t say “I love you” out loud. He does it by watching me haul traps next to Cody with a crazed look in his eye. He does it by growling instructions and warnings at me: “watch out for the ropes, Spencer,” “don’t take off your jacket, yet, it’s too cold,” “careful where you put your fingers,” “don’t lean over the rail like that, Spencer,” and on and on and on. It’s hard not to laugh, and I’ve spent most of the morning with my lips pressed so firmly together they hurt. Next to me, Cody’s eyebrows haven’t left their position against his hairline. Probably knowing that any jokes from him will get his head bitten off, he’s remained silent as well.

“Can I come out with you guys tomorrow, too?” I ask Dryden later, rocking easily with the Maiden Seas as we head back to the wharf. I’ve got a whole five days off from Caring Claws. Dryden doesn’t, though, which means if I want to spend a lot of time with him, it’ll be on this boat. Not that I’m complaining. I love lobstering.

“No,” he replies succinctly. “I cannot handle two days in a row with you on board.”

I puff out my cheeks, holding in another laugh. Dryden catches it anyway, looking at me over his shoulder and scowling. I shrug, grinning. Worrying might be uncomfortable to him, but I can’t pretend that I don’t enjoy it. Better than him not caring at all if I were to fall overboard.

“Want to grab a drink tonight?” Cody asks us, crewneck flung over his shoulder and undershirt showing sweat stains. It’s an unseasonably hot day. I glance over at Dryden, leaving, as always, the choice about socialization up to him. He usually prefers a break from people, and today was already more stressful than usual with me on the Maiden.

Dryden runs a hand over his hair, buzzed close to the scalp and faded down the sides. I helped him do it yesterday, putting a chair in the lawn and sitting a shirtless Dryden down, letting the hair blow away with the wind. He’d hopped into the pool with me afterward, reclining back on a floatie and falling asleep. I’d taken a picture with my cell phone—all that pretty brown skin on display and the water shimmering around him. Beautiful.

“Sure,” he agrees now, surprising me, Cody, and, likely, himself.

“Oh. Hell yeah,” Cody replies, rallying quickly, easy smile falling back into place. “Maybe I’ll bring my girl Cindy.”

“Oh dear lord,” Dryden mumbles.

We make a general plan to meet around seven and go our separate ways. Walking side by side to the car, shoulders brushing, Dryden holds out his hand, keys in his palm. I grin, taking them.

Dryden, who is happy to drive the Porsche at any given time, is equally as happy being the passenger princess. I’d been a little shocked when he’d asked if I ever wanted to drive it, surprised that he’d hand over the keys to such a luxury vehicle so easily.