Page 89 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

Oliver’s dad is sitting on a brown microfiber couch, reading the newspaper. His long legs are sprawled out before him on the hardwood, and I can tell he was probably built like his son before his accident rendered him largely immobile. He looks tired, worn out by life, but his blue eyes are bright—so much like Oliver’s that it’s actually a little eerie.

“You must be Ivy,” he says in a charming baritone. A flash of pain on his face is the only indication of his limitations when he moves to stand, but he grins broadly to hide it.

I cross the room to shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Robert,” he introduces himself. “Thanks for letting Oliver ride out the storm with you. It was a rough night.”

I will my face to stay as stoic as humanly possible. My night was anything but rough; it was divine. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Oliver trying not to laugh.

“It’s been a while since I was on the coast in weather like that,” I manage, looking away from Oliver so I don’t start chuckling, too.

“Oh, do you come here often?”

I nod. “My family rented a place here every summer of my life. This year, it’s just my cousin and me.”

“You’ve probably eaten some of my lobsters, then.” Robert appears pleased with himself.

Oliver looks like he wants to disappear into the wall. “Dad, that’s a really weird thing to say to someone you’ve just met.”

His father’s laugh echoes around the small living room. “Just trying to make conversation with your lovely friend.”

“We should get to work.” Oliver shifts from one foot to the other.

Robert inclines his head. “Okay, you two have a good day. And Ivy, don’t be a stranger. It’s not often Oliver bothers introducing me to the girls he’s seeing.” His eyes twinkle. “You should let him take you out on the boat sometime.”

“I’d love that,” I reply earnestly.

“Consider it done.” Oliver grins at me. “Shall we?” He gestures toward the door, holding an arm against the small of my back as I wave my way out of the house.

“Your dad’s nice,” I remark as we walk away.

“He really liked you.”

I furrow my brow. “How do you know?”

“I could tell,” he shrugs, then tosses me an obnoxiously charming smile. “And Robert Clarke isn’t always an easy guy to please. You must be something special.”

“I think I like you.” I stop next to the truck and throw my arms around his neck.

When he smiles down at me, my heart plays a triumphant bass line. “I know I like you.”

“You always have to one-up me, huh?”

His only response is a kiss that takes my breath away.

Being at work is the ultimate test of my patience after the 24 hours I’ve had. Fortunately, now that the storms have finally passed, the tourists are back out in force, and Shoreline stays quite busy. Thank God for that distraction; I don’t know if I’d be able to keep my hands off Oliver otherwise.

He and I exchange secret smiles whenever our eyes meet across the shop. I catch him staring affectionately when I recommend some books to a woman who reminds me of Eleanor. I’m pretty sure I return the expression when he takes his notebook out of his back pocket during a brief lull and starts scribbling his thoughts on a blank page.

Because she’s missed so much work this week, Maisie decides to come in for a few hours to take care of some administrative tasks and check in with us. She must catch more than a few of our lovestruck exchanges, because I notice her laughing to herself several times when she seems to think we aren’t looking.

Before she shoos us both outside to take a break (together, at her insistence), Maisie asks if we can join her in her office. I shoot Oliver a worried glance. I can’t imagine what she wants to discuss is good news, given how many doctor appointments she’s had recently.

Maisie doesn’t bury the lede. “I need surgery.”

“Oh, Maisie,” I shake my head. “I’m so sorry.”

She waves her hand through the air, pushing my apology aside. “Don’t be. Once I recover, things are going to get a lot easier around here.”