She's Up to No Good(37)

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice husky. “Tony—?”

“No,” he said. “Not like this.”

She sat up, pulling her bra back up to cover herself. “Not like what? We’re not in a car. We’re planning how to get married.”

“We should be married first. Or at least actually engaged.”

“Then propose. And you can have me. Right now.”

He looked away. If he looked at her, like that, on the bed, he would say yes. And he couldn’t.

“No.”

She turned on the lamp next to the bed and went to him, forcing him to look at her. “I’m leaving in three days. If we do this, it’s proof we love each other. That the distance and the time won’t matter.”

“I don’t need proof.”

“And if I do?”

He looked into her eyes, memorizing the sight of her. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Maybe more than ever now, when she was laid bare of all the pretense. Then he reached for her hands and turned them up, kissing each palm. “Let this be your proof, that I won’t until you’re really mine.”

“I am yours.”

“And I’m yours. But that’s why we’ll do it right.”

She sank onto the bed and put her head in her hands. “This is not how I imagined tonight going.”

He handed her the dress. “Put this on before I lose my willpower.”

She looked up, the veneer of flirtation back in place, and reached threateningly to the back of her bra. “And if I take more off?”

He shook his head. “It’ll be a long walk back to the cottage.”

“You wouldn’t!”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “No. I wouldn’t. But get dressed. Please. We only have a couple of nights left before you leave.”

She stepped into her dress and buttoned it swiftly. Tony stooped to retrieve the bottle of whiskey, which had rolled to a stop next to her desk. He looked at it for a moment, then untwisted the cap and took a long swig before offering it to Evelyn.

“I thought you weren’t drinking.”

“That was before.” He gestured at her and the bed.

She smiled grimly and took a sip. “Goodness, that’s terrible.”

“Let’s go back to the beach.”

Evelyn took his proffered hand, disappointed, but not embarrassed, and returned to his car, where she let him drive as she nestled beside him in silence, feeling the breeze from the open windows as they wound through the five twisty miles of dark marshland.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX





We walked the full mile of Main Street to the harbor at the bottom of the hill, where a restored factory, still bearing the faded logo of the old fishery on the brick, now held several chain stores and a couple of boutiques. Wide walking avenues lined the street, leading to a pier that people fished off at the far end. Hotels and restaurants, built to look like grander models of the Victorian houses on Main, lined Harbor Avenue, looking out over the water, where sailboats dotted the horizon.

I turned to Joe. “I get the feeling it didn’t look like this when my grandmother was a kid.”

“Not so much.”

“Does Hereford still have a fishing industry?”

“Not really. Gloucester is close and still does because Gorton’s is there. But it started to die out in the 1970s here.”

“What happened to your family’s business?”

“Long gone. Lack of interest mostly.”

“I know Tony became a police officer.”

“Chief of police eventually.”

“The chief? Really?”

Joe looked at me curiously. “Do you want to meet him?”

“What? No. Why?”

“You seem very invested.”

“I—I didn’t know he existed before yesterday.” Was it really only yesterday? “But like—he could have been my grandfather.” Joe tilted his head, studying me, and I felt my cheeks burning. “He isn’t—I mean—Grandma said—oh no, you can’t trust anything she says, can you?” I tried to turn off the babbling, but it was like plugging a hole in a dam. “I just meant they could have gotten married. If my great-grandfather hadn’t stopped them. And like—I didn’t know there was anyone before my grandfather and it—”

Mercifully, he cut me off. “If that’s how you say no, what do you do when you do want something?”

I huffed slightly. “Anyway. Tony became the chief of police—what about his brothers? Whose grandkid are you?”

His lips twitched, and I realized he was trying not to laugh at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Tony’s older brother, Felipe, was my grandfather.”

“Was?”

Joe nodded. “He died a long time ago. I never knew him.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded again. “That was part of why the business went. My great-grandfather’s heart wasn’t in it after my grandfather died. Emilio went to Korea and then college on the GI Bill and he didn’t want any part of fishing, and once Emilio did it, Julio wanted to go to college too.” He paused, looking out at the water. “Things started to change for a lot of the Portuguese families here after World War II. We were second-class citizens before. It’s better now.”