Page 101 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

Upon reaching the water, I immediately notice Robert Clarke has named his boat the Orca.

“Is this because of Jaws?” I ask, watching Oliver’s tanned arms work the ropes.

He chuckles. “Oh, absolutely. My dad has quite the morbid sense of humor.”

The boat is about 20 feet long, with an open back and a winch for hauling nets or traps. Even though it’s been a good 15 years since Robert’s fished for a living, the Orca is in excellent shape.

“So, who kept the boat up all this time?” My eyes sweep over Oliver’s hard lines, and I already know the answer. His body wasn’t built in the gym; it was honed through sweat equity: taking care of his dad, and the boat, and Maisie and her bookstore.

Oliver grins at my transparent ogling. “I did what I could.”

“It looks great,” I say honestly. Because it does. How had he ever found the time?

He offers a hand so I can hop aboard. “My father always made it very clear that the boat was our insurance policy. Even if things fell apart with his disability payments, or the bookstore, I could always run tours or register for a fishing license. Or we could sell the boat for a quick influx of cash.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how accurate that is, but I’ve always kept it ship-shape, just in case.”

I roll my eyes. “Again with the boat puns.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, dragging me closer. “You know you love them.”

My eyes flick up to his in surprise, because I do think the word “love” is hovering in the ether between us, but it has nothing to do with the puns. I’m not sure I’d admitted that to myself until now, though.

“Mmm,” I murmur. “You’re very clever.” I let our faces drift together, our lips brush. I get lost in the feeling of being completely connected, of his arms around the small of my back; his chest against mine. Here, in the sun, sparkling waves spread out before us, my mind goes utterly blank, save for the feeling of being alive in this very moment.

I can’t remember the last time I felt so present.

When we finally break apart, Oliver finishes getting everything ready and then turns the engine over. I stand beside him as he guides us cautiously out of the harbor, under the drawbridge and beyond the cove.

The wind starts whipping through my hair almost immediately; the waves bobbing us up and down as we skip across the surface of the Atlantic. I’m grateful for my sweatshirt, which I slip on about two minutes into the trip. Oliver shoots me an amused grin.

“What? I like to be cozy.”

His arm slips around my waist. “You’re cute, that’s all.”

“Likewise,” I return, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

We trace the outline of the coast all the way down to York, where Oliver docks the Orca so we can have lunch. He stretches out on the bench across from mine, considering me over his sandwich.

“What’s going through that brilliant mind of yours?”

“Have you thought anymore about staying past Maisie’s leave?” His eyes don’t leave my face.

I have to squint to look back at him, thanks to the position of the sun. I slide my sunglasses down, a guard against the intensity of both the light and his question. “I have,” I admit.

“And?” The breeze blows his hair in time with the waves.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I would love to stay.” In fact, the idea of leaving him makes me feel like I’m suffocating. “But I’m not sure I can afford it. Maisie isn’t able to pay nearly as much as Farnsworth.” I’d finally asked her for full-time salary and benefits information when we met to talk through the plan for her time away, and it wouldn’t leave much wiggle room in my budget.

Granted, if I were to move here, I would either have to rent or sell my condo back in Brookline. It’s in a decent neighborhood, though it is very small and rather out-of-date, so I’m not sure how much it would fetch on the market. I could probably live off that income for a while, but it would run out eventually, and I’m not sure what would happen then.

I don’t intentionally avoid mention of the Springfield opportunity, at least at first. But, watching Oliver gaze at me from across the boat, I’m struck by how badly I want to extend this magic. I can’t bring myself to ruin it with a much dimmer reality.

He nods his understanding, more quickly than I’d have expected given the nature of our conversation. “I think you should talk to Maisie. There might be options you’re not considering.”

My brows wrinkle over my nose. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Oliver crosses to me and takes my hand. “Just talk to her, okay?”

“Okay,” I promise. “I will.”