by Gina Sturino
Right. After the lease was up here, he’d eventually return to Monterey for good. I needed to remember that as my heart filled more and more with pieces of him. I couldn’t relocate… Or could I? Nothing really tied me to Milwaukee. I didn’t have a job anymore. No family anchoring me here.
“What should I pack?” I asked, thinking about the luggage I’d just unpacked.
Dane went into a detailed explanation of the vast temperature range along the coast. But I only half-listened, instead musing about the many mornings I woke up spooning the suitcase, and realizing in the days ahead, it’d be Dane in its place.
Twenty-Four
“So, what do you prefer—scenic or fast? Personally, I wouldn’t pass on the opportunity to drive along the Pacific Coast Highway. Wait, do you get carsick?” Dane talked a mile a minute, hardly stopping for air. Navigating through the winding rows in the rental car parking lot, he stopped in front of the attendant’s booth, rolled down his window, and handed over a thick stack of paperwork.
“Do you need a map?” a scruffy-haired man asked as he scribbled furiously over the top of the receipt.
“Nah, thanks.” Dane grinned, then nodded toward me. “Think we’ll head along the PCH, see the Pacific in all her glory. Sound good?”
“Sure.” I giggled. Dane hadn’t stopped beaming since I had agreed to take this impromptu trip with him.
I still wondered how he’d pulled it off so quickly. Twenty-four hours later, here we were, pulling from the rental car lot at San Francisco International Airport.
Dane followed signs for the 101 heading south. I watched with fresh eyes as San Francisco rolled past my passenger side window. I’d been to the city a few times in the last decade for work but never experienced the sites.
“Can we see the Golden Gate Bridge?” I asked, craning my neck to get a peek of the skyline. My smile widened, ear to ear, when Dane glanced my way with a confirming nod.
“We can do whatever you want. This part of the trip is all about you.”
“Okay,” I said.
“I’ll put the roof down as soon as we get out of the city,” Dane suggested. The rental car was a black Mustang convertible. Dane claimed it’d “enhance the experience” driving along the coast. “You hungry? What about music?” He tossed his phone to me. “Here, pick a playlist. Or maybe some local stations are preprogramed on the radio.”
“No opera?”
“You choose. Where we go, what we do, you get first dibs.”
“Wow, Dane, what did I do to deserve the princess treatment?” I held my palms up. “I mean, I won’t argue.”
“Nova.” His voice turned soft and serious. “I don’t think you realize how much this means to me. The time I’ve had with you… they’ve been the best days of my life.”
My insides melted. My skin tingled. And my heart soared. I wanted to scream “mine too.” Instead, I clasped my hands on my lap and stared out the window. I’d never experienced feelings like this. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Beyond primal lust, beyond blinding passion, I’d fallen. Fast, hard, and deep.
After driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, roof down and hair blowing, we stopped at Muir Woods to stretch our legs. The mighty redwoods towered high into the sky as the Mustang wound down the mountain side to the park’s entrance.
“We have to make it a quick hike, but it’s worth it,” Dane said, pulling into the crammed parking lot. A pair of women decked in yoga gear walked from their car toward the welcome center. Rolled-up mats were tucked under their arms. Dane asked from our open-air seats, “Hey, you guys coming or going?”
“Just leaving,” the woman called back. “Hang on a sec.”
Dane put the car into park, and we watched the women talk to an attendant before turning back in our direction. The lady signaled to a silver Jetta.
“Looks like we got lucky,” I said, watching them climb into their car. “They must have a yoga class in the park. Cami would flip for something like that. Yoga and nature are her two passions.”
“Cami? Your friend in Milwaukee?” Dane asked. His fingers strummed against the leather steering wheel. “You haven’t told me much about her. What’s her story?”
“Oh, she and I have been friends forever, since we were kids. I grew up with her. Neal, Cami, Celia, and I were four peas in a pod until, well… until we weren’t. Guess we all kind of drifted apart.”
“Celia?” Dane asked. He glanced my way before pulling into the newly vacated spot and cutting the engine.
“Celia is practically Cam’s sister. They were raised like siblings, although they couldn’t be more different. Cami’s always been a breath of fresh air, and Cece’s more serious, quiet. Cami’s kind of in the same boat as me. Cece dropped out of her life, left town for some guy that was bad news. They haven’t spoken in years.” A subtle sadness tinged my voice. I hadn’t thought of Neal in a few days. Dane had preoccupied all my time and energy. “I think she hired a private investigator to find her.”
“Wow,” Dane said, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. He unclicked his seatbelt, exited the car, then came around to my side and opened my door.
I slipped from my seat, heavy in thought. Dane took my hand and led me toward the entrance to the park. Dropping his intertwined fingers from mine, he pulled his sunglass back down then scratched his chin.
“Thinking about your brother, huh?” he asked.
“Last I heard, Neal’s here—well, somewhere along the coast. Maybe while we’re here…” I trailed off. I knew it was a long shot.
“I know some people that may be able to help. When we get to Monterey, I’ll ask around.”
The welcome center had a large sign listing its hours of operation and park usage fees. Dane pulled out his wallet just as I reached into my purse for mine. I couldn’t have him bankrolling the entire trip; he’d already insisted on securing our airfare.
“Military gets in free,” he explained, sliding his identification card to the attendant. “One of the many perks for signing away your life.”
“I didn’t think you were still active duty.”
“Retired. Now I do contract work.” He slipped the card back into his wallet.
“Wow, retired?” I didn’t know Dane’s exact age, but he looked to be around mine. Early-to-mid-thirties at most. “Aren’t you kind of young to be retired?”
“It’s a complicated situation. I’m considered ‘medically retired.’ Had an injury a few years ago that made me undeployable. So, I got into contract work.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Eh, life has a funny way of working itself out. I wasn’t ready to give up the good fight, so now I do what I can, although it’s not ideal. Not exactly the route I would have gone, but, well, it is what it is. I can have all the regrets in the world, but it doesn’t change the past. No use dwelling or overthinking. I learned that a long time ago.”
We walked along a winding path, damp and dark from the towering redwoods. Patches of sunlight streamed through sporadic openings. The treetops towered so high above, some got lost in the misty fog.
“Amazing, aren’t they?” Dane asked, looking up to the soaring crowns. “Big, old giants on land. Some of these are over two thousand years old.”
The scent of nature thickened as we pushed further into the woods. Fresh, clean, and earthy. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and allowing my senses to take their fill of the land. Exhaling in a long, slow breath, I leaned into Dane as his arms came around me, pulling me close against his body.
“Years ago, my uncle and I would come here often, before it got so crowded and touristy. He took me camping almost every weekend. Not always here, but Muir Woods was one of his favorites. He said the redwoods embodied the beauty and miracle of life. They’re the tallest in the world, closest to heaven, connecting all elements of creation. Feet planted in the soil, roots drinking from the waters of the rivers and streams, crowns in the clouds. He said one day I’ll unde
rstand the symbolism of the redwoods, their physical and spiritual strength. The healing, protection, and peace they bring to the soul. One of the greatest connectors of life.”
Protection, healing, strength. My soul desperately needed to hear those words, the promise that reverberated in Dane’s words. The promise that even among life’s obstacles, peace existed. Peace was possible.
“I’m glad I get to share this with you,” Dane said quietly. “My uncle’s been gone a long time now, and it’s been a while since I’ve known… peace.”
My eyes shot up to meet Dane’s, but his chin was angled upward, toward the tall towering limbs that rustled above us. Shadows mingled with sunshine, dancing over his face like a tango between light and dark.
“Come on, let’s find a banana slug before it gets too late. They’re the grossest, but coolest little critters you’ll see in these parts.”
After spending almost two hours at the park, we never did spot the bug. We made a pit-stop at the gift shop where Dane bought me a rubber version of the slug before we headed back to the car.
Sinking into the Mustang’s leather seats, I nestled against the headrest and closed my eyes. “Where to now?”
“Let’s get out of the city. It’s overpriced and overcrowded, and there are lots of options south of here. Maybe we can find something on the ocean.”
We again crossed over the Golden Gate Bridge. The city passed slowly as we sat in stop-and-go rush hour traffic. Exiting onto Highway One, it lightened from heavy congestion to a free flow. Signs for Moss Beach greeted us.
“Ready to stop, or should we push a little further?” Dane asked.
“Think I’m ready to stop, if you don’t mind. I can check on my phone for a hotel,” I said, tapping the screen. “What city’s next?”
With his eyes trained on the road, Dane answered, “Half Moon Bay.”
Twenty-Five
Although he didn’t look at me, I’m certain Dane caught the sudden jerk of my body.
“Nova?” He reached to clasp my hand, giving a squeeze.
“He used to sing about a half moon bay,” I whispered, more to myself than Dane. “I didn’t know there was a place along the coast with that name.”
“Hmm?” Dane glanced my way, then returned his focus to the road. “It’s known for a big annual surf event. Other than that, not much to the city. We can press on to Santa Cruz.”
“Neal used to sing about a half moon bay,” I said louder. “We have to stop.”
Eyes still focused ahead, Dane replied, “What a coincidence. Can you check your phone for a hotel?”
I tapped the Hotels app and turned on my locator, but before the search results could populate, Dane pulled off the highway and onto a frontage road leading to an inn. In the distance, a vacancy light blinked on and off in front of a weathered, three-story building. Rows of balconies overlooked a small parking lot. A sandy beach and the ocean lay beyond the sidewalk.
As Dane cut the engine, the gentle lull of waves caressed the evening air. I closed my eyes, not only from the long day of travel and the hike through Muir Woods, but mental exhaustion. My mind raced with possibilities.
Could it be a mere coincidence?
I’d like to think it’s a coincidence, but I’ve come to learn nothing is ever a coincidence.
“How’s this place look?” Dane asked, interrupting my thoughts. He pressed the button to close the convertible roof. “Might not be the Ritz, but looks kind of charming.”
Snapping back to reality, I grinned. “Did you seriously use the word charming?” Big, tough men like Dane didn’t use words like that.
“Well, it’s called Charming Inn, so, yeah, charming.” He shrugged his shoulders, then helped me from my seat.
The building in front of us, worn from wind and salt, had an understated, beachy allure. Dane pointed toward the matching grey sign bearing the name of the inn. “See?”
“Charming Inn.” I read the sign out loud.
Dane clasped my hand and led me into the lobby. Inside, a gentle fire crackled in a stone-bordered hearth. Several skylights made the compact space appear cozy yet open. A haze cast by twilight sprinkled the room.
“A fire in July?” I asked Dane.
“There’s a famous saying about summers in San Francisco. Mark Twain or someone. ‘The coldest winter was a summer spent in San Francisco?’ Something like that. You go inland a few miles, and it’ll be ten degrees warmer,” Dane explained, gazing around the room. “This is charming.”
Two plush chairs faced the fireplace, while a wide buffet with a coffee station, tower of cups, wooden box of teabags, and a pitcher of water sat below a portrait of the sea. Fruit had been set out, along with a small stack of napkins.
“Oh, hello,” a soft, feminine voice called from the door behind the desk.
“Hi.” Dane grinned. He planted his palms on the teakwood countertop. “Any rooms available?”
The clerk’s brown eyes snapped from Dane to me, warming as she smiled. “Aren’t you just lovely. You remind me of someone.”
Self-conscious, my hands patted at my tangled hair. The convertible might have been a fun ride, but my hair felt like a rat’s nest. Probably looked like one too.
The clerk snapped her fingers. “She was a ballerina, floated around like a graceful little bird even when she wasn’t dancing.”
“Oh, well, I have two left feet.” I laughed. “Definitely not graceful.”
“Ah, you’re not that bad. A few glasses of wine, and I’d almost say you’ve got skills.” Dane winked, then added with a shimmy of his hips, “But no one can keep up with these moves.” I gave a swat at his butt. We had danced together twice in the last few weeks, already making special memories in our short relationship. And I had to admit, I was more than impressed with all his moves.
“Oh, you two are adorable! And you’re in luck. I had a cancellation this afternoon. It’s a king suite with a fireplace, balcony, and small kitchenette. How long are you thinking? They had it for the week.” She tucked a chestnut-brown curl behind her ear. Turquoise beaded earrings dangled from her ears, and her long, flowy, floral cardigan nearly swept the floor, making her appear like a modern-day hippie.
“A couple nights.” I spoke before Dane had the opportunity to answer. As futile as the attempt may be, I wanted time to look for Neal. The song lyrics and the name of this city could be just a simple coincidence. But…
I’d like to think it’s a coincidence, but I’ve come to learn nothing is ever a coincidence.
The words again echoed in my head, the faint memory almost a warning.
“I can do that. Two? Three?” the clerk asked.
Dane lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Let’s start with two, if that’s okay?”
The woman punched the keyboard in front of her. “Fantastic. Where are you two love birds from?”
I blushed, averting my eyes to my hands which I’d wrapped around Dane’s thick bicep.
“Just flew in from Wisconsin, but I’ve been in and around these parts for years,” Dane answered. The thick cording of his muscles tensed under my hold. He had a body made of steel, strong and unyielding.
My pulse suddenly quickened, the thought of sleeping next to Dane for a few nights bringing heat to my belly. We hadn’t touched one another intimately—outside of chaste kisses here and there—since the weekend. Now we’d be sharing a bed and inevitably one another’s space for a week.
Deep in thought, I hardly noticed as Dane’s credit card and the keys to our room were exchanged.
“Hey, I was going—”
Dane cut me off with a wide grin, his hand patting the top of mine. “We’ll worry about that later. Josie was just saying they offer complementary wine and cheese every evening from five to seven. Looks like we missed it tonight, but she’s graciously offered to pour us a glass if we want to sit by the fire for a few minutes.”
“You can bring them to your room if you don’t mind plastic cups. The sun will be setting in a
bit, and the view from the balcony is out of a dream,” she offered.
“Red SOLO cups?” Dane asked in a serious tone, eyebrows raised. I giggled, the joke lost on Josie.
“In wine country? God no.” She scrunched her nose and shook her head. The turquoise beads danced in her hair. “I have plastic wine cups. Hold on, let me grab the bottle. Oh, I don’t want to forget to mention—we offer a continental breakfast every morning, seven to nine, here in the lobby.”
She turned on a wedged espadrille sandal, her flowing cardigan waving behind her as she pushed through the door again. Josie reminded me of the free spirit I used to be before I morphed into a stuffy lawyer.
“How thoughtful.” I grinned to Dane. Fatigue began to settle in my shoulders, and a glass of wine on the balcony sounded more than perfect.
“Here you two birdies go,” Josie said, coming through the door again with two glasses in hand. “I’m just so tickled this worked out for us. For me to get a cancellation, then have you two show up. Must be kismet. Let me know if you need anything. If you want recommendations for dining, music, beaches—call the front desk. Half Moon Bay is small, one of those everyone-knows-everyone kind of towns, so I can personally attest to the hidden gems.”
Tucking away that tidbit of information, I took the glass from her outstretched hand. “Thank you, everything is perfect.”
“Nov, let’s take these up to the room. I’ll grab our stuff later,” Dane suggested.
“Goodnight, darlings. Enjoy that beautiful view of the sea,” Josie called with a warm, knowing smile.
I followed Dane through the front entrance and around the building to an exterior stairwell where we carefully climbed to the third floor, wine glasses in hand. Signs made of driftwood adorned each door. Dane stopped outside of 314 and pushed an old-fashioned key into the knob. The door swooshed open to reveal a spacious studio.
Stepping inside, two oversized lounge chairs faced a fireplace, while the king-sized bed was pushed against the farthest wall. The kitchenette was to our immediate left. Nautical accents in varying shades of blue sprinkled the room.