by Marni Mann
I continued to work on her, gradually increasing our flight time, landing at different airports around New England where we’d go to lunch before I flew us back to Boston.
Bar Harbor, Maine, was our first overnight trip.
Alix had always told me her heart belonged to Boston. It was true; she fucking loved that city. But she had a connection to Maine that was just as strong.
I really got a chance to see it during that vacation.
After our first night there, she woke me up at a little past three in the morning, and we hiked to the summit of Cadillac Mountain. Depending on the time of year, it was one of the first places in the US to see the sun rise.
Alix wanted to share that with me.
When we got to the top, we sat on a slab of rock several feet from one of the ledges. We’d arrived early enough to see the dawn break and the black start to lift from the sky. There were mountains surrounding us in the distance with Frenchman Bay right below. Several small islands dotted the dark water.
It was a gorgeous sight.
Especially when the ball of red began to lift, turning the sky a burnt orange and a bleeding pink.
I glanced to my left where Alix was sitting. Her eyes were on the sun, and the warmest fucking smile was spreading over her face.
I knew in that moment why I was here.
It was to see that expression.
The look she gave when she stared at something she loved.
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, still facing the sunrise.
“It is.” My answer had nothing to do with the sky.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure I remembered I was still on top of a mountain.
I was gazing at her, feeling things, thinking of a future I hadn’t ever considered before.
What made Alix Rayne so different than all the other women I’d dated in the past?
Many things.
The biggest was the way I’d felt when I stood next to her at the table the night I met her and every moment I’d spent with her since.
Happiness.
That was what filled me.
From the way she looked at me, spoke to me, listened to me, and reacted to my touch—they all made me feel it.
“Dylan?”
I shook my head, running my hand over my morning scruff. My stare rose from her lips to her eyes, and I saw she was finally looking at me. “Yeah?”
“One day, I want to spend my summers here. Get out of the mugginess of the city, rent a small cabin somewhere down there”—she pointed at the islands below—“and come up here every morning to watch the sunrise.”
I pulled her across the rock until she was sitting between my legs, her back leaning against my chest. “I can’t believe you’re telling me that I’m going to have to wake up every morning before four and haul my ass up here.”
She laughed.
Goddamn it, that sound was pretty.
“We don’t have to hike it every time.” She chuckled again. “Once in a while, I’ll let you drive us to the top.”
I wrapped my arms across her, my hands resting over her navel, and we watched the sun move higher in the sky. It’d changed colors from the last time I looked at it. Now, a light pink and a deep navy were reflecting off the clouds.
There wasn’t even a ripple in the bay.
Just stillness all around us.
I pressed my mouth to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair, breathing it in several times. “I’m going to make it happen.”
“What?”
“You’re going to be spending your summers here.” She turned to look at me, and I added, “I promise.”
We could do it now.
I could certainly afford it and work remotely for those few months.
But Alix wouldn’t leave her job, and I’d never ask her to.
Her brows lifted as she tried to read me. “You’d move to Maine for me?”
“I would.”
Her expression changed.
It warmed.
And then I saw that look again—the one she’d had when she was watching the sunrise.
“Kiss me,” I told her.
She climbed higher on my chest, slowly reaching my mouth. Her hand went to my cheek, and she pulled me as close as she could get me.
Her eyes told me she loved me.
So did her kiss.
Eighteen
Alix
Present Day
I rushed inside the police headquarters and into the call center. Just as I was passing Marla’s door on the way to my workstation, I heard, “Hey, Alix.”
I turned around, backing up, and stopped in her doorway. “Are you looking for me?”
She pointed to a bouquet of flowers on the corner of her desk. “Those came for you this morning.”
I stared at the arrangement, trying to think of who would have sent them.
I didn’t like any of the conclusions I had come up with.
“Are you sure they’re mine?”
I could tell the question surprised her.
With a smile, she said, “Your name is on the card, so I think they’re for you.”
I thanked her and took the vase, placing it next to my computer. My purse went in the bottom drawer, and I put on the headset.
I didn’t open the envelope.
I wasn’t ready.
Instead, I sucked in a deep breath and rested my fingers on the keyboard, my thumb gently tapping the space bar but not hard enough to actually press it down. My body tensed. The tips of my toes ground into the bottom of my shoes.
It was time.
I hit the key that would connect the incoming call and said, “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“I’ve been in a car accident. I’m on the corner of Huntington Avenue and Cumberland Street. No one is hurt, but both cars are pretty banged up.”
My chest loosened.
Air slowly made its way through my lips.
The tapping stopped.
But it would all start up again when I took the next call.
At the end of my shift, I logged out of the system, grabbed my purse and the flowers, and went into the restroom.
I locked the door behind me.
I needed privacy.
Silence.
To get this over with before I left for the night.
What I didn’t need was a coworker watching how I reacted to the card.
I slipped my finger under the flap of the envelope and lifted, slowly removing the thick paper inside.
Thanks for having dinner with me last night.
I’m really looking forward to our next date and to falling in love with Boston again.
—Smith
I read the note a second time.
A third.
The same thought kept popping into my head.
Smith?
I hadn’t expected him to be the sender.
I wasn’t disappointed.
I was flattered he would go through all the trouble of finding where the call center was located and sending me something so beautiful.
I held the note against my palm and looked up to see my reflection in the mirror.
The smile on my face was growing.
As I touched my cheek, my skin was becoming so warm; the color flushed.
Affected.
Just in a different way than I’d thought.
I slipped the note inside my purse and brought the flowers downstairs and into the backseat of the car I’d ordered. While the driver moved into traffic, bringing me to the other side of town, I took out my phone and clicked on Smith’s name to send him a text.
Me: The flowers are gorgeous. Thank you. That was so nice of you.
Smith: I’m glad you like them.
Me: First dinner, and now, this. I hope you know none of it is necessary, but it’s certainly appreciated.
Smith: You saved my best friend’s life, Alix.
Me: I only called 911. The paramedics and the staff at the hospital
are the ones who saved his life. Please don’t feel like you have to repay me or that you owe me anything. All I want is for Joe to be all right, and it sounds like that’s a strong possibility.
Smith: The flowers were because I wanted to try to make you smile, something I enjoyed looking at when I sat across from you. Our next date is because I want to see you again. Once you showed up to the restaurant, it was no longer about Joe. It became all about me.
As I continued to stare at the screen, I could tell my face was turning warm again, my skin reddening.
I typed out a few sentences and immediately deleted them.
I tried again.
I couldn’t make anything sound right.
I didn’t know how to respond.
But I felt like I needed to say something.
I was sure he’d looked at my pictures online, so I replied with an emoji he’d seen under every one.
A sun.
“It looks like we’ve arrived,” the driver said as he pulled up in front of Rose’s building.
I thanked him and went up to the call box outside the entrance, hitting the button next to her name. She buzzed me in, and I made my way up to her place.
“You brought me flowers?” she asked after she opened the door.
“No, someone bought these for me.”
I recognized her expression.
It was the same way mine had looked when Marla told me the arrangement was for me.
To alleviate her concern, I said, “Don’t worry; it’s not from who you think.”
I carried the flowers into her kitchen and set them on the counter.
She followed me and stood in front of the bouquet, sticking her nose into the petals to smell them. “There’s no card.”
I took the heavy paper out of my purse and handed it to her. Then, I moved to the end of the counter to grab the bowl of chips.
“Wow, you’re right. It’s not at all what I was thinking.” She looked up and grinned. “But I like where this is going, and I looove that date two is already in the works.”
“He asked me before dinner was even over.” I shrugged. “It felt right.”
“Of course he asked you—because you’re fabulous. I’m just not sure why you’re defending yourself right now.”
I hadn’t realized I was doing that.
But I was.
More for me than her.
Because, in my mind, I had to justify why I would go out with Smith when Dylan was still very much in my life.
Since I didn’t know what to say, I lifted the bowl of chips and carried it out of the kitchen. On my way to the living room, I passed a table that was covered in framed photos.
One caught my attention.
The same one I saw every time I came here.
I never commented on it.
Never gave it too much attention.
But that had been before my date with Smith.
Before I felt the guilt that was eating at me right now.
Rose stopped at my side and said, “It might be time to update some of these pictures.”
“But that’s such a good one of all of us.”
Dylan and I were on the left side of the photo, standing on top of Cadillac Mountain. Our arms were in the air, and we were flexing our muscles.
Before the hike, we had agreed to haul ass up the mountain since Rose and Terry were joining, and we’d refused to let them beat us.
They hadn’t.
We’d won by several minutes.
On the other side of the picture were Rose and Terry with sad, defeated, sweaty faces.
“That whole trip was amazing,” she said.
I was quiet while I thought about that weekend—the incredible food and wine Dylan had arranged for us, the evenings we had spent talking until it was almost time to wake up for our hike.
The laughter.
“It was perfect,” I agreed. I shoved in another mouthful of chips and swallowed. “God, he’s so handsome.”
“Best eyes I’ve ever seen.”
I looked at her. “You’re so right about that.”
“I remember when he locked eyes with me at the restaurant the night we first met him. There I was, trying to be all badass, stopping him from touching you. He gave me this stare as he handed me his wallet, and the whole time, I was thinking to myself, There’s nooo way Alix is going to be able to resist that man.”
“I gave in quickly, didn’t I?”
She laughed. “You did, you ho.”
I smiled, shaking my head.
She rested her chin on my shoulder and said nothing for several seconds. “I know it’s hard, having that chapter of your life over.”
It wasn’t over.
I just couldn’t tell her that.
So, I leaned my head against hers, leaving it there for a moment, and then I stepped to the side and gave her the chips. “Take these before I eat them all.”
“You’d better not be full. I have the usual on its way over.”
That meant a pepperoni and mushroom pie from the Italian place on the next block and two slices of chocolate cake from Nona’s Bakery.
“You know I can always eat,” I told her.
That was a lie.
Because, tonight, I wasn’t feeling very hungry.
Nineteen
Alix
Present Day
The creak of my bedroom door opening woke me out of a dead sleep.
With my eyes closed, my heart pounded inside my chest. My fingers clenched the blanket and pillow, squeezing them into my palms.
“You came.” I took a breath. “I didn’t expect you. I thought …” There was a knot in my throat. It felt larger than the width of my tongue. It hurt when I swallowed, when I tried to inhale, when my lips pressed together to say, “I thought you weren’t going to come home again since I told you I was having dinner with another man …”
I waited for him to tell me we needed a break, that this was the last time he would be coming back here.
Seconds ticked by.
It felt like thousands of them.
And then I heard, “I love you.”
A whimper came out of my lips, and I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to hold back the noise.
“I love you so much, Alix.”
Oh God.
Tears began to fall.
Fast.
Dripping over my hand and onto the blanket.
My nostrils flared as I sucked air in through my nose and released it just as quickly.
My muscles quivered.
My body tightened as I bent myself into a ball. “Dylan …” I sobbed, no longer able to keep it in. “I’m so s-sorry. I …”
Fucked up?
Should have stayed home?
Shouldn’t have put Smith’s flowers on the kitchen table?
I didn’t know.
I just knew I was sorry we were in this situation.
Sorry there were tears running down my face.
That I didn’t know what to say to him.
That he didn’t know what to say to me.
“Dylan, I d-don’t know w-what to d-do.” I reached for the pillow from his side of the bed and hugged it against my chest. “I’m trying my b-best here.”
I hated that this hurt so much.
That my heart felt like it was going to explode.
“Alix …” I heard his feet move over the floor as he came closer. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t even have to think.
The answer to that would always be yes.
There was movement on the bed, and then I felt the warmth when he wrapped around me.
My throat began to loosen.
My hands released what they’d been squeezing.
The tears stopped.
And dried.
I was asleep again within minutes.
Twenty
Dylan
Two Years and Eleven Months Ago
Three months.
It wasn’t that I didn’t feel it.
That emotion had been present since almost the very beginning.
But I had known, once those words were spoken, I would need to have things in place.
That started with our living situation.
Alix stayed with me during the nights she wasn’t at work. She kept her things at the apartment she shared with the three firefighters and brought over what she needed.
I wanted her to move in with me.
My interior designer was working on a mock-up for my walk-in closet where half the space would be converted to fit Alix’s needs. She was also putting together a design for the master bathroom. Alix liked taking baths, so she was about to get a much larger tub and a place to sit and do her hair and the little makeup she wore.
I hadn’t told her about the renovations.
Or the details of my business.
Or anything financial-related.
She didn’t know my net worth, the extent of my investment portfolio, how this was one of my three homes.
Things like that didn’t matter to Alix, so I never brought them up.
She didn’t give a shit about designer clothes or five-star restaurants or that the bracelet I had given her several weeks ago cost a year’s worth of her rent.
She cared about helping others.
Saving lives.
Being at the right place when someone needed her.
But, if she was going to be my wife, she needed to know everything.
I decided to approach the conversation a little differently.
So, I flew us to Lake Tahoe for a long weekend. Once we landed, we were picked up in a Suburban and driven about fifteen minutes to my home.
She grinned when we pulled into the wooded driveway and turned her body toward me. “What is this place?”
“It’s a house.”
She bent her head to be able to see the top of it out of the window. “Why would you rent something so big for just the two of us?”