Geoducks Are for Lovers (21 page)

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Authors: Daisy Prescott

BOOK: Geoducks Are for Lovers
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“Your x-marks-the-spot?” Selah cackles. “Oh sweetie, if he needs a map, he isn’t doing it right.”

“No one is using any map.”

“And that, my dear, is precisely the issue.” 

“And we’re back to the beginning of this conversation. I’m going to go put on my suit and sit in the sun before the good doctor gets here, and tells me how bad tanning is for my skin.” Jo wanders into the house leaving Selah and Maggie alone at the table.

“I had the strangest dream last night. I dreamed I had the whole room to myself and didn’t have to share with Gil.” Selah stares over her sunglasses at Maggie.

“Odd dream considering you locked the door.”

“Maybe a ghost locked the door?” Selah arches her brow. 

“Very strange a ghost could do that.” Maggie stares into her empty coffee cup, thinking about Selah’s meddling. A soft smile forms as she thinks of how right it felt to have Gil in her bed.

“So, where did Gil sleep last night? Sofa downstairs? Love seat in your room?”

“Neither.” Maggie looks at Selah.

“Uh huh.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Nothing? The way Gil and you were looking at each other this morning didn’t look like nothing.”

“How was Gil looking at me?” Maggie flushes a little, thinking of his words in the kitchen earlier.

“Like a man who didn’t sleep on the sofa, and won’t be sharing a room with me tonight either.”

“Fine. He slept in my bed.” Maggie tells Selah the same version she told Quinn earlier.

“Aha! There was kissing.” Selah smiles. “Kissing is good.”

“Mmm hmm. Kissing is very good.” Maggie can’t help but smile. 

“You heeded my advice? Lived in the moment? Good girl.” Selah pats her arm.

“Thanks, mom.”

“Now what?” 

“I’m not sure. Quinn woke us up this morning, so we haven’t talked about anything.”

“Less talking and more kissing is what I would do,” Selah advises.

“Why am I not surprised? Nothing is going to happen with a house full of nosy guests.”

“Don’t let us stand in your way. I’m sure you two can find a quiet corner or broom closet to sneak off to, if you need.”

“Making out in the broom closet?” Maggie laughs. “I don’t see that happening. Plus, we’re friends. That’s what is most important.”


Deja vu
, Maggie.” Selah furrows her brows. “We didn’t care what happened then, we wouldn’t now. We all want you two to be happy.” 

“What? We are friends. Friends who kiss every twenty years.”

Selah sighs. “Live, Maggie. Don’t play safe. Live while you’re still young enough to enjoy it!” She throws her arms wide. “
Carpe vir
!” 

“Isn’t the saying ‘
carpe diem
’?”

“Pfft. ‘Seize the man’ is so much better. And more appropriate for this situation.”

Maggie laughs, but feels torn as conflicting thoughts and feelings about Gil swirl in her head.

“Don’t overthink this.” Selah taps Maggie’s forehead. “Go with the flow. Have some faith.”

Maggie nods in agreement, mostly to get Selah to stop spouting clichés. “Got it.”

Jo returns and sprawls out on a towel on one of the chaise lounges.

“That looks like a brilliant idea,” Selah says, getting up. “I think I’ll put some clothes on and join you.”

Maggie follows Selah into the house. 

Gil puts the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, wipes his hands on a tea towel, and smiles at Maggie.

“Thank you for the dishes.”

“Anytime. What’s next on the non-agenda? Is everyone doing their own thing?” 

“Quinn’s driving to the ferry to get Ryan, the girls are sunbathing, and Ben is wandering around making people work on a Saturday. That’s about it.”

“The tide is almost out. Want to take a walk?” he suggests.

“Sure. Biscuit would love it. Can I bring him?”

“Of course. Gives us an excuse to escape everyone.” He smirks at her and squeezes her hip as he walks by her. 

“I’m on to you, Mr. Morrow.” She squints at him.

“Good. Cause I’m looking forward to more of the nothing that didn’t take place last night.” He smiles. “Let me go grab some shoes.”

Maggie leans against the counter. One way or another this man will be the death of her.

Quinn comes downstairs showered and wearing navy shorts and a striped polo.

“You are very preppy in this outfit. Like the husband of a doctor,” Maggie teases.

“You like?” Quinn turns around. “I can’t wait for Ryan to see this place. He’ll love it.” He kisses Maggie on the cheek.

“Car keys are on the hook. You know how to get there?” 

“Yep, yep. Up the hill, left, right, hit the main road and keep going until you run out of land. I got this.”

“We’ll decide on lunch when you get back.” Maggie waves to him as he heads out the front door.

Gil comes back down as the door closes. “Ready, Maggie May?” He holds out his hand.

As I’ll ever be
, Maggie thinks.

 

 

 

 

Twenty

 

 

The tide isn’t at its lowest, but there is enough dry sand for a walk far beyond the sight of the house.

Maggie and Gil walk in silence for a bit, watching Biscuit run through the shallow pools of water dotted with sand dollars, moon snail shells, and kelp.

“Ever wonder if there are any geoducks out here?” he asks.

“There might be some further out where the water is deeper in a high tide. Did you know once a geoduck reaches maturity and digs itself down into the sand, it never leaves the spot? They can live for over a hundred years in the same hole.” 

“Talk about being stuck in the mud.” He pokes the wet sand with his shoe.

“Isn’t the saying ‘a stick in the mud’?” She bumps his side with her elbow. 

“I’d rather be a stick in the mud, than burrowed in the same spot for a hundred years with no eyes.”

“Sticks don’t have eyes either. You’re weird.” She laughs, but Jo’s words echo in her head about hiding out. Maybe she is a geoduck, living in her same, comfortable spot, unwilling to ever stick her neck out, and retreating at the first sign of contact. Has she subconsciously buried herself away from life’s risks all together? 

Gil’s splashing through a shallow pool brings her out of her contemplation. “How do you go about hunting geoducks anyway? Gathering? Harvesting? Picking?” he asks, ignoring her silence.

She snorts at the innocent question. “Are you asking if I want to go geoduck hunting, Morrow? In the bright light of day?”

“Hey, are you having impure thoughts about a bi-valve again?” He walks backward to face her.

“You’ve seen a geoduck. How can you not have impure thoughts?”

“We did go to the same college, so yes, I am familiar with geoducks. You’re fourteen, you know this, right?”

“I am not. Not my fault this particular bivalve resembles an uncircumcised penis.” She laughs.

“You would know more than I would,” Gil says, sounding snarky.

“Yeah, I suppose I do. Unless you’ve been hanging around Turkish bath houses.” Shielding her eyes from the bright sun, she peers at him over her sunglasses.

“No, no Turkish bathhouses. I was scarred by watching
Midnight Express
.” Gil shudders.

When he steps in a big pool of water and almost loses his footing, she laughs at him. He takes up his spot beside her again.

“On the train back to Paris, Lizzy and I realized we had a small joint leftover from our weekend in Amsterdam. We spent the entire time wondering what French prisons for women were like. We decided if you had to be incarcerated, at least in France the food would be good.”

“I doubt they serve
pain au chocolat
in prison, Maggie.” He laughs.

“Probably not, but I could live off of baguettes and butter, maybe a little
jambon
on occasion. Plus, we theorized, they probably serve you wine.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad set up.” He smiles at her. “And you could master your French.”

“Right?” She sighs, thinking about it.

“Marriage was probably a better choice in the end, though.” 

“Shorter sentence at least. I think. I’m not sure how long you’d go to prison for a joint in France.”

“I have no idea. Probably only pay a fine.”

“Easier than divorce.”

“You and Lizzy had lots of adventures that year.”

Maggie smiles her thanks for his sidestepping of the Julien topic. “We did. I can’t believe we both survived with all the crazy things we did.” She jumps over a shallow stream of water, while Biscuit splashes right through it.

“I bet.” Gil’s long legs mean he doesn’t have to jump, instead clearing the stream in a single stride.

“Lots of adventures with everyone who came to visit. You were the only one who didn’t come over and visit us. Why was that?”

“You know why, Maggie.”

His words sting even though she does know why. “I wish you had come to visit. Things might have been different. I really missed you that fall.” She gives him a small smile.

“You did? You never wrote or called. I assumed you regretted sleeping together and were putting literal and figurative distance between us.” 

She can see the surprise and lingering hurt on his face.

“I did miss you. I didn’t know what to say in a letter or on the phone. I missed you, but Lizzy kept telling me not to pine. Something about
che serà, serà
. She was always saying if you and I were meant to be, you’d wait for me.”

“Sounds like Lizzy. I did wait for you. It was you who didn’t wait for me.” He looks down and gives her a small, sad smile.

“I should have waited. I did wait, but when I never heard from you, I figured you’d moved on. I asked Selah about you during her visit over winter break. When she wouldn’t give me any details, I assumed you were dating and in love, and she didn’t want to be the one to tell me.”

“I was in love. With a girl on the other side of the world.”

“You were?” His words surprise her. 

“I was. Very much. But I was a nerd, and scared, and stupid. So I didn’t do anything.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I guess I was of the same mind as Lizzy. If we were meant to be, you’d realize you loved me, and come back to me.”

He stops walking and picks up a sand dollar, wiping off the wet sand. “But then the French Incident happened, and well, life went in another direction.”

She frowns. “You never told me.”

“You came home with Julien attached to your hip. I didn’t really see the point.” He tosses the sand dollar into the water.

“I’m sorry I was so blind, Gil.” 


Che serà, serà
. You seemed really happy with him. I wasn’t going to ruin what was left of our friendship by making you choose.”

“I probably would’ve chosen Julien at that point. I think my head was spinning with lust more than love.”

He cringes. “Ouch.”

Waving her arms around, she attempts to backtrack. “No, no, I mean it as a positive in your column. You were my best friend for years. Julien was French, and all about the seduction and romance. I was so caught up in the idea of him, I didn’t really pay attention to the man behind the romantic ideal.”

“I blame all the nineteenth century French romances you read in college.” Gil half-smiles. “Listen, I get it. He seduced you. I was a geeky boy from Colorado. No sexy accent, bad haircut, and always wore socks with my shoes.”

“You were never a geek.” Maggie grabs his hand. “You were always cute. Don’t forget grunge rock star who made all the girls swoon.”

“Clearly you are forgetting my horrible Sally Jesse Raphael-style glasses freshman year.” His smile widens. 

She bursts out laughing and swings their hands between them. “I did forget those! Those were horrible. But you got rid of them before sophomore year.”

“Amazing what contacts can do for a guy’s image.” Gil laughs with her. 

She squints at him. “I like you in glasses. They suit your whole ‘hot professor’ thing. You should wear them more often.”

He kisses her hand and laughs, saying, “My ego thanks you for saying that. How funny life is. After The French Incident, I never imagined you and I would be walking on a beach, holding hands, and talking like this again. I’m glad we finally addressed the elephant in our lives. I’ve missed you.”

She grins at him and squeezes his hand. “Me too. Maybe Selah is right about everything happening like puzzle pieces fitting into place. It’s possible if we hooked up in college and dated, it would’ve been a disaster. The whole group dynamic would have changed for the worse, and we wouldn’t be here today.” 

“True, but two decades is a long ass time to wait to do this again…” 

He surprises her by spinning her toward him and kissing her. Her shock wears off, and she kisses him back. She wraps an arm around his back, and tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck. He responds by pulling her closer and weaving a hand through her hair.

After a few minutes of kissing, she pulls back to breathe. “Definitely too long.”

He kisses her again. 

“Way too long.” 

She brings her body flush with his. Where their hips meet, she can feel him. 

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