The Goodbye Bride (29 page)

“You're so cute. Carry the blanket, Forgetful.”

He grabbed the duffel bag, and she followed him down the sandy trail toward the beach. The sun peeked out for just a moment, dazzling her with the way it sparkled off the water.

Waves rolled onto the rocky shoreline beside the cove, splashing against the boulders with a loud roar. Maine had so many offshore islands that the water tended to ripple quietly ashore.

“There's real surf here.” She thought of the map at the visitor center that she spent so many hours studying, and mentally followed it north. “This is Seal Cove.” The boardwalk from town ended in a trail that led here.

“Very astute, Miss Visitor Center. Keep your eyes peeled. You might see a few of the little buggers frolicking in the surf.”

She helped him spread the blanket on a flat area, and they anchored it with the duffle bag and their shoes.

He unzipped the insulated duffle. “Hope you're hungry.”

“Starving. You packed a picnic in that duffel bag? What happened to my beautiful picnic basket?”

“It wouldn't fit on the back of the bike. Besides, it would've been a dead giveaway. We've got roasted chicken, Aunt Trudy's potato salad, pretzel rolls from the bakery—”

“I love those!”

His eyes danced with humor. “I know, goofy. I was there when you ate a whole basketful.”

She gave a mock gasp. “I did not.”

He gave her a look.

Okay, so she kind of did.

“And . . .” He pulled out one last container. “Brownies with chocolate chips and vanilla icing. Made by yours truly.”

“Aww . . . my favorite.” She took the container. “They're still warm. Let's eat them first.”

He gave her an indulgent smile, adding a shrug. “Whatever the lady wants.”

She plated a large square, and Zac took two of the corners. She bit into hers. It was warm and chewy, and the chocolate chips were still melty.

“Mmm, these are so good.”

As they snacked, they talked about the money she'd inherited and some ideas for investing it locally.

“Have you given any more thought to that community center you wanted to open?”

“I have. I just need to find the right space and make some kind of business plan.”

He washed down his bite with a sip of Coke. “What about the old firehouse? It's up on the market now that they've moved to their new building.”

She could picture the old brick station with the red doors rolled up on warm, sunny days—an open invitation to come inside and mingle. “That would be perfect.”

“It's too outdated for their use, but it already has an outdoor basketball court, and there's plenty of space inside.”

“I love that idea. I'll check into it.”

After talking about the firehouse and her dreams for the center, Zac told her about a local band he was trying out the next weekend, a country cover band that was popular in Bangor.

When they were finished with the brownies, they decided to keep the rest of the food cooling while they dipped their toes into the water. The ocean was cold, the waves tugging at her calves. The pebbly sand was rough against her feet.

Zac took her hand, and they walked along the water's edge. It was so peaceful here, just the sounds of the waves washing ashore and the cry of a seagull as it soared overhead.

Zac stopped suddenly, squinting down at the water. “Wait. Do you see that?” He pointed down near their feet.

Lucy squinted through the glassy surface of the water. A wave rolled in, stirring up sand. “What is it?”

“Down there, look. It's hard to see.”

She leaned closer, peering through the murky water. “What? I don't—”

Zac reached in, his hand coming up with a scoop of cold water. The splash reached her neck and shoulders.

She sucked in a breath as she jerked upright.

Zac had darted a few feet away, wearing a cocky smirk. “I can't believe you fell for that.”

“I can't believe you did that.” She reached into the water and
picked up a handful of wet sand. “You're going to pay for that, Zac Callahan!”

He turned to run, getting in a few long strides. But she was too close, and she caught up with him when he hit the soft sand.

She leaped onto his back, but her weight didn't even faze him. She pulled on the neck of his shirt and dropped the handful of sand down his back.

“No, you did not.”

He twisted, reaching behind him, and maneuvered her weight. Next thing she knew the world was spinning, and she was upside down over his shoulder.

She squealed, clutching the back of his shirt. “Put me down!”

“Ooo-kay . . . if you insist.” He started toward the water.

“Zac! Don't you dare. I'll tell your aunt Trudy!”

“She'll say you deserved it. She always sticks up for me. I'm her favorite.”

His feet hit the water and kept going. She pounded his back. “Zac! Put me down!”

“I think I just felt a mosquito on my back.” He was knee-deep now, which meant up to her thighs.

She swatted his butt. “I don't have anything to change into, you wretched man.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me.” He loosened his grip on her legs, letting her slide down his front.

She clung to him like a monkey, wrapping her arms and legs around him, pressing her face into his neck. “I'm not letting go. If I go down, you're coming with me.”

“Ayuh? You sure about that?” He wiggled his fingers into her ribs.

Laughter bubbled out as she flinched away, losing her grip on his neck. “Stop it! Get out of the water, Zac Callahan.”

Their eyes aligned, his sparkling with amusement. “I've got wet sand sliding down my jeans, Georgia. Give me one good reason why I should let you off the hook.” He poked her in the ribs again.

She wiggled, laughing. “Because you love me.”

Her laughter stopped abruptly.
For gosh sakes, Lucy.
She winced, biting her lip. “I didn't say that. You did not just hear that. Let's go for a swim. Come on, throw me in. I'm ready. Go ahead.”

She drew a deep breath, puffing her cheeks out, and held her nose, closing her eyes. Yes, it was ever so much better with her eyes closed.

Zac didn't move. Didn't so much as flinch.

“I'm waiting,” she gasped, her heart thudding.

Why did she have such a big mouth? Disappearing under the surface sounded most appealing. Maybe she'd never come up again—leastwise not till he left. Then she wouldn't have to see the look of pity she was sure was on his face.

But he hadn't moved, and it was dawning that she was going to be stuck in this awkward moment of her own making.

She opened an eye, peeking out. His face was inches away, and the look on his face . . . it was a job for both eyes. She opened the other one, releasing her breath, letting go of her nose.

His eyes pierced hers, twin smoldering pools. Her heart gave a lurch. Those eyes. Lord have mercy, it was like they reached clear down to her soul.

“Oh, sure,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Now that I want in the water, you're not letting me go.”

“It's no fun if you want it.”

The rough texture of his voice made a pleasant scrape
somewhere deep inside. His breath whispered against her lips, firing up neurons hither and yon.

“Well, now, that's not very nice.”

His eyes lowered to her lips. “Sometimes I'm not nice.”

“Just—just sometimes?”

“Only when it suits.” He lowered his mouth to hers, brushing softly.

Once. Twice. His breath was warm and sweet, and she tasted a hint of chocolate. She tightened her arms around him, cupping his warm neck with her palm. He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer until his heart thudded against hers.

He swayed with the pull of the surf as it ebbed and flowed. That was her last rational thought before the rest of the world disappeared: the sultry breeze, the rippling water, the cries of seagulls. Gone. It was just Zac, and his beautiful mouth doing things that kindled a fire deep inside.

A moment later he eased back, pulling a whimper from her throat. Her heart thudded so hard she was sure he could feel it.

He leaned his forehead against hers, and she got lost in his eyes, the charcoal flecks mesmerizing her. She could hardly believe she was back in his arms. She'd missed him so much, she wasn't sure how she'd made it those seven months without him.

Two years ago he'd worked his way so quickly and so deeply into her heart. He'd unraveled her in so many ways. He still did, and she couldn't fathom life without him.

“I do, you know,” he said on a soft breath.

“Hmmm . . .?” She played with the hair at his nape.

“I love you, Lucy.”

Her heart did a slow roll even as fear struck a match. “Again?” she teased.

“No.” He gave her a long, slow look. “Still.”

An ache opened up inside so big she could've fallen into it. Her eyes stung. What had she done to deserve this man? She felt the same way, burned with it. She'd never stopped loving him. She knew that now. Burned with the need to tell him. But her words got caught in her throat, forming a hard lump.

Why couldn't she say them? It was only three little words.

Just say it, Lucy.

He dropped a kiss to her nose. “We should eat before the food goes bad.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes, we should.” Then she eased away, somehow both relieved and disappointed that the moment had passed.

Chapter 36

A
fter eating their picnic lunch, Zac suggested a hike to Sawyer's Point to watch for seals. The point was about a half mile away and sat on a small cliff above the water. It was a popular place for photographers to capture Summer Harbor's lighthouse.

Lucy scanned the clouds on the horizon. They'd grown darker as they'd eaten. “The sky's not looking so great.”

He gave the clouds a passing glance. “It'll go around us.”

“That's pretty optimistic, Boss.”

He pulled her up. “Just call me Pollyanna. Let's go.”

The trail wound through the evergreen forest, heading north. The tall canopy above sheltered them from the outside world. Inside the bubble it was cooler and noisy with the playful tweeting of birds and nattering of squirrels. Zac set a leisurely pace, their footfalls quiet on the thick carpet of pine needles.

When they reached Sawyer's Point, they sat on the cliff top, her back against his chest. They rested up and watched the waves roll ashore. In the distance the white lighthouse squatted on the point jutting out from Summer Harbor. Folly Shoals was visible too, a dark hump in the sea.

There were no signs of seals, but snuggled against Zac's chest, Lucy couldn't bring herself to care. Especially when he brushed her hair aside and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. His hot breath warmed her skin, and the scrape of his beard set off a shiver that traveled clear down to her toes.

“It's breezing up,” he said a few seconds before lightning flashed in the distance. A low rumble followed.

“Uh-oh,” she said.

“That's our cue.”

He helped her to her feet and they started back down the trail, moving more quickly, hoping they could beat the storm. It wouldn't be much fun riding the cycle in the rain. Zac helped her down the steep parts of the trail, and minutes later the path opened to the beach.

The sky overhead had grown dark and angry, and the air was thick with the smell of rain. A bolt of lightning flashed and thunder cracked as the first drops fell. The wind whipped Lucy's hair, and she pushed it back from her face.

Zac gestured toward the road. “Go get your helmet on,” he called over the storm's clamor. “I'll get our stuff.”

“I'll help.”

He didn't argue as she trotted behind him toward the blanket, now blown into a clump beside the empty duffel bag.

She went for the towels as Zac began packing the bag. As she gave one of the towels a quick shake, the wind ripped it from her grasp. She darted for it, catching it midair, then reached for the other one. The rain began in earnest as she snagged the blanket, not bothering to shake it out.

She dropped to the sand beside Zac, who was stuffing things into the bag as quickly as he could.

Suddenly an image of Zac stuffing the same duffel bag flashed into her mind, and Lucy froze as the scene played out in startling clarity.

He'd been wired and restless all week. Stressed out over his finances and torn between the Roadhouse and helping Beau and Riley get the farm up and going in time for the Christmas season. He'd hardly called or texted her, and the only date they'd had in the last month was the meal at the Lobster Hut the weekend before.

What if his feelings had changed? What if he'd realized he'd made a huge mistake? What if he didn't want to marry her anymore?

The thought struck terror into the very marrow of her bones. Something dark and dreadful bloomed inside, growing bigger as the days passed and Zac seemed to avoid her. But her love for him was so big and wide she pushed the dark feeling down each time it clawed to the surface.

But tonight . . . tonight everything seemed to be coming to a head. She dropped by after work to go over last-minute wedding details and found him in his bedroom, dropping clothes into a duffel bag.

She stopped on the threshold, something dark and ugly welling up inside at the sight. The feeling that took her back years to the house on Oak Street.

“What—what are you doing?”

He spared her a glance, his face inscrutable. He shook his head. A shadow flickered in his knotty jaw as it flexed.

Dread wormed up her spine. “Where are you going?”

He threw some socks into the bag and pushed the drawer shut with a bang. “I have to get away. I need a break.”

The words, so familiar, swirled in her mind, dredging up memories she'd shoved to the deepest reaches of her heart. A heavy fog rolled in, suffocating in its thickness. She was suddenly six years old, watching her father pack as her legs quaked beneath her.