Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(40)

She nodded, grinning at him. “I’m glad it was you.”

He brushed his lips against hers and sighed. “Want to go see more of the gardens, darlin’?”

She hopped up, sliding one hand down his forearm to his hand, which she clasped in hers. “Yes, Erik, I do.”

***

At the gift shop he bought her a sketchbook and a silver pendant etched with a heart. When he put the necklace around her neck, the silver charm lay between her breasts, heavy and warm, and she blushed, remembering their passionate time in the gazebo.

She’d have to hide the necklace before she went home tonight, but it was hers, and she’d cherish it, and it would always—always—remind her of the perfect day with her love.

As they drove away from the gardens and back across the bridge from Roanoke Island to the Banks, Laire had the first pangs of sadness. It was only seven, but their beautiful date was coming to an end. Sooner than later, they’d have to drive back down to Hatteras and say good-bye. And it wasn’t that they couldn’t have another date again, but just for today, she’d actually freed herself from Corey for a few hours. She wasn’t frightened of being found out. She wasn’t worried about being seen with Erik. She had embraced her time with him with a fullness and gratitude that felt so wonderful, she hated the idea of going back to sneaking around. She wished every day could be like today.

Erik held her hand across the bolster as they turned south on Route 12.

“You know,” he said, oblivious to her heavy ruminations, “you never did tell me about your sketches.”

“I make my own clothes. And my sisters’. And for lots of other women on the island.”

“I didn’t know. But you always look great.”

“Thanks. Remember how I mentioned that my mother went to college?”

“Uh-huh. You were proud of her.”

She nodded. “I want to go too.”

“To college? Away from Corey?”

She glanced at him and answered tartly, “Since there’s no college there, yes.”

“But . . . I can’t imagine you leavin’ your home.”

I can. “I’ve looked into it. The two best fashion design schools on the East Coast are in New York and Rhode Island.”

“N-New York? Laire! New York City?”

His voice was so shocked, she felt defensive. “I can go anywhere I want to.”

“Says the girl who hasn’t been farther inland than Jacksonville.”

“Just because I haven’t doesn’t mean I can’t,” she said, releasing his hand and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, of course you can. I just . . . What does your father think?”

Her lips twitched. “He doesn’t know.”

Erik took a deep breath and sighed. “So you like designin’ clothes?”

“I love it. I’ve been designing them since my mama passed.”

“The shirt you have on?”

“Mine,” she said.

“That hot blouse you were wearing the first night you met me on Buxton? The maroon one that made my mind go blank?”

She grinned. “Mine again.”

“Those little shorts that keep teasin’ me today?”

“Mine.”

He looked over at her and nodded. “You’re talented.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do.” He paused. “So how does this plan work exactly? Laire going to college?”

She sighed. “Laire works for two summers at the Pamlico House and saves every dime. Little by little, she tells her father about her plans until he stops forbidding her to go. And then, when she’s twenty, she applies. With any luck, she’ll be accepted, and . . .”

“And she’ll go to New York and become a big-time designer.”

“In a nutshell.”

“And I’ll be able to say, ‘I knew her when,’” he said wistfully.

Reaching for his hand, she pulled it to her lips and kissed it as the sun drew closer and closer to the sea.

Hopefully, she thought, you’ll still know me then.





Chapter 10


Laire leaned her elbows on the countertop at King Triton Seafood on Wednesday morning, staring out the front window and dreamily remembering every detail of last night with Erik.

He’d been back at the bar on Monday night during her shift, but after Sunday’s date, she felt a new closeness to him, a new intimacy with him that made her heart thrum with love every time she looked over and saw him. She refilled her water pitcher at the bar so many times, the bartender began to joke with her about the patrons floating away. He didn’t know she’d fill two or three glasses, dump the rest in the kitchen, then return to the bar to fill it again ten minutes later. Any excuse to lock eyes with Erik.

When he pulled her into his arms on Monday and Tuesday nights after work, they’d kissed hungrily, like their lips touching and tongues entwining was the only sustenance they craved and needed. Last night, holding her close on the dock in the dim moonlight, he’d told her again that he was falling in love with her and asked her for another date on Sunday.

Unfortunately, however, Laire had to say no.

She wasn’t working on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday brunch, though she’d picked up some hours on Sunday night to make up a bit of the loss. This weekend, she was attending Kyrstin’s rehearsal dinner, wedding, and wedding brunch. After Thursday night, she wouldn’t see Erik again until Sunday night at the earliest, and her heart ached at the thought. It seemed like an eternity.