Page 22 of Tides and Tidings

“If you could do one thing tonight, Charlie Hannigan, what would it be?”

The smirk returned, “You.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well that’s a given,” I winked. “Let me rephrase: what would you like to do outside the hotel room?”

He thought about it for a moment before shrugging.

I considered my options before making a bold move. “I have an idea.”

Charlie cocked his head, “What?”

“Before I suggest it, do you have anything planned after dinner?”

“I figured we could find someplace to grab a drink. Other than that, no.”

I sat up straight, suddenly very excited about my suggestion. “I’m going to suggest something so feel free to shoot it down, okay?”

Charlie nodded.

“Since we have one night in a town where we don’t know anyone, why don’t we go to dinner and then go clubbing? We don’t have to worry about Wren and can let loose for once.”

The look of bemusement spread across his face. “You want to go to a club? With me?”

“I do,” I reached for his hand and pulled it into my lap. “Is that a problem? We have a free pass to be absolute degenerates tonight—no consequences.”

“Other than a hangover,” he added.

Charlie chewed the inside of his cheek and considered what I had suggested. “Let’s do it.” He agreed.

“Wait, really?”

His blue eyes met mine, “Let’s have a night that makes us thankful we have a kid and spend the weekends at home.”

“This is very spontaneous for us,” I noted.

He grabbed my cheeks and kissed my lips, “Very.” His voice was low against my lips.

Tonight will be a night we will remember for the rest of our lives.

Charlie

Blythe had suggested something I would have never thought of. Not because I wouldn’t want to go out partying with her, but because I was too insecure even to suggest it. Lately, I’ve been feeling bad. Blythe and I would never have that honeymoon phase where the couple was spontaneous and could do anything anywhere. From damn-near day one of our relationship, we fell into a rhythm of caring for Wren and working, and…that was about it. We were boring and I hated it.

Don’t get me wrong, Blythe knew what she was getting herself into, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. I watch as she sees couples stroll in and out of Sea Reads—most of them hand-in-hand. I’m not a big fan of public displays of affection, and I worry that Blythe doesn’t feel loved enough, hence why I’ve been a little more upfront with my affection today.

I know she sees all the pictures of her friends in relationships traveling to exotic places, jumping off cliffs into bodies of water, and riding camels in the desert and I feel bad she doesn’t get to do any of that. This weekend was the most alone time we’ve had in a very long time, and I felt terrible.

I planned to give her the surprise of a lifetime at dinner, so going out to a club after that would be a pretty good celebration…if all went according to plan.

Blythe immediately started researching the best bars and clubs in Savannah. As we sat on the bench, a trolley drove by.

“Can we take a trolley tour?” She asked, her eyes lit up. “It would be a great way to see all the Christmas decorations without walking the whole area.”

The woman knew I hated walking. “You want to take a trolley tour with tourists?”

She raised an auburn brow, “Are you not a tourist?”

Touche. “You do realize that’s my version of hell, right?”