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Mitchell merely snorts at that. “Archie might take you. But it won’t be today. He’s already out on the water for today.”
“What are we supposed to do, then? I have to get back to work. I need to shower.” I feel myself on the verge of tears, the bad night’s sleep and the last few days finally getting to me.
“Well we can’t help you with getting back to work,” Margery says. “But you’re welcome to use the shower in the apartment we have upstairs, and to stay there too. We rent it out in the summer, so it’s all fixed up. And we can grab you some clean clothes that my daughter and her boyfriend left at our house when they were here last summer. You two look about their size.”
“Great,” I sniff. “Thank you so much.”
“We’ll get back, Angel. I promise,” Carter says. “Cat and Jamie are researching charter companies, and I’m sure Archie will take us. I’ll offer him whatever amount of money he wants.”
“Thank you.”
Carter Steel is a good man.
The thought comes into my head unbidden but there it is. As much as I try to deny it, he is caring and responsible and careful. At least he has been for the last few days.
“Can you give me Archie’s number?” Carter asks Mitchell.
Mitchell grumbles something about Archie being a cantankerous old bat, but scribbles the number on a piece of scratch paper and hands it to Carter anyways.
“Come with me,” Margery says, and then she’s bustling us upstairs, chattering about how tired and cold we must be, and how a good hot shower will set us right.
It reminds me of my moms, and makes the tears I suppressed downstairs rise to the surface again. I just want to be home.
But as soon as I step into the apartment, I realize that maybe all I want and all that I’ve been missing are amenities. Margery and Mitch have really decked the place out. It’s dominated by a high, soft looking king bed that’s draped in light blue linen bedding and plaid blankets. The light gray walls are hung with artistic depictions of the island, and an enormous window offers a stunning view of the bay beyond. The curtains hang all the way to the floor, brushing the plush carpet. It’s beautiful, yet still inviting.
“This is beautiful, Margery,” I say. “Please let us know what it costs to stay here.”
“Nothing before May,” is all she responds, and then signals us to follow her into the kitchen.
She shows us the coffee machine (thank God) and then takes us into the bathroom. My jaw nearly hits the floor when I see the jacuzzi tub. Big enough for two, and deep, with a rain style shower head mounted above it.
“Margery, I'd ask you to marry me if you weren’t already,” Carter says.
Margery goes pink in response and looks Carter up and down.
Me too, Margery, me fucking too. Because even after two days in the woods with no shower to speak of, Carter Steel still looks delicious. His hair is pulled back into a bun at the moment, and his stubble has now grown into the beginnings of a beard.His long sleeved gray henley shirt is rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms are...Christ. His forearms look sculpted from marble, by God herself. Maybe Margery and I can form a Carter’s forearms fan club or something.
“If I were thirty years younger, we’d make quite a fine couple,” she says. “Don’t mention this to Mitch.”
“My lips are sealed,” he says, and throws her a wink.
Something about Carter winking at another woman, even one who is about sixty-five and married makes me feel…irritated. But I ignore that feeling because Margery is explaining to us how to use the jets on the tub and hell no am I missing out on that. She also gives us some bubble bath to use.
“Once you’re all cleaned up, you should head down to Shaky Jane’s. They just reopened for the season and have the best stuffed clams in all of Maine,” Margery says.
Carter’s stomach audibly rumbles through the room, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Margery, the muffins were truly wonderful, but I have two days worth of protein bars to banish from my memory,” he says.
And whiskey, I think. When I licked the drop from Carter’s throat, his skin was warm and he smelled of pine, like a sexy lumberjack.
Which is something I really need to stop thinking about.
“Well I’ll let you two get settled in and cleaned up,” Margery says.
And then it’s just Carter and I alone, again. But this time in a room with a bed big enough for both of us to sprawl out on.
“I can still sleep on the couch,” Carter says, clearly noting that I’m staring at the bed.
