After All (Cape Harbor #1)(88)

“My place. Luke needs to eat.”

Brooklyn glanced over her shoulder at his dog. He seemed content, with his head hanging out the window.

“I shouldn’t leave Carly.”

“Someone will call us if we are needed.”

She didn’t feel like arguing. She leaned her head back and watched the scenery go by. The almost thirty-minute trip seemed to fly by rather quickly. When they pulled into Bowie’s driveway, he shut off the car and got out. She stayed and stared out the window at his house. It was small with the perfect-for-summer covered porch. Those were her favorite, especially in the houses down south. There was nothing like sipping sweet tea and watching the lightning bugs at night while swaying back and forth.

Bowie and Luke disappeared into the cornflower-blue house, leaving her to wonder what was behind the door. Curiosity got the best of her as she finally got out of the car. The cobblestone walk was done with meticulous precision. She knew Bowie had put a lot of time and effort into his home. The thought gave her pride. They were the same, wanting the same, yet she couldn’t deliver on her end. Not without living with guilt.

She climbed the three steps up to the porch and walked to the door, pushing it open slightly. “Hello?” she called out foolishly.

“In here,” he said, forcing her to follow his voice. She found Bowie standing in his room without his shirt on and soft music playing in the background. He’d set her up, knowing she wouldn’t stay in the car.

The sight of him made her mouth water. His torso was the color of honey, just lightly kissed by the sun. He wasn’t overly muscular, but he had some definition. As he stared at her, his biceps flexed. She loved that he kept his hair short but had facial hair. She longed to run her finger over the stubble, to feel his breath fan over her, to kiss him and show him that she was still in love with him. But the cost of being together weighed heavily on her mind.

“I should go.”

He came toward her and placed his hand on her waist, pulling her toward him. “If you go, I go.”

“It’s not that easy, Bowie.” She knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Being with you is the easiest thing I’ll ever do.”

“Grady says no one will ever accept us being together.”

“Bullshit. It’s been fifteen years, Brooklyn. We’re allowed to move on, and once people know Brystol’s mine, they’ll be happy for us.”

She shook her head, unable to believe him. He trailed his finger down her cheek until he reached her chin and lifted her head until he could look in her eyes. “Those demons dancing around in your pretty little head need to be exorcised.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Maybe I can,” he said moments before his lips pressed to hers. He withdrew slightly. “I am in love with you, Brooklyn Hewett. If you leave, I go with you.” He kissed her deeply. “And if it means we live in hotels for the rest of our lives, so be it. You’re not leaving without me.”

“But—” As much as she tried to fight her attraction to Bowie, she felt it stronger, deep within her bones. The anxiety she’d felt turned to anticipation. She craved his touch, his body pressed against hers, the way he whispered her name. She wanted it all.

“There are no buts in this, B. We’re in this together, no matter what. I will protect you, be your voice when yours fails you. I will not let you succumb to the guilt you feel.”

“Bowie . . .” His name fell softly from her lips before she closed the small gap between them. His words, his vow, they charged her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and molded herself to him. He lifted her and carried her to his bed, then laid her down gently. Her fingers tickled his barely there beard, and he smiled.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” she told him as she gazed into his blue eyes. The same eyes their daughter had. “We made a gorgeous girl.”

Bowie grinned widely. “We did. I’ve never forgotten that night.”

“Me neither.”

“Don’t let Grady’s words come between us, Brooklyn. We deserve a shot at happiness.”

She agreed and pulled him closer. “Maybe you can make me forget what he said?”

“Are you sure I’m what you want?” he asked as he lay beside her.

“Without a doubt.”

He sat back on his knees and pulled at her shirt, lifting it over her head. She lay there, letting his eyes rove over her. He came forward and kissed a trail down her chest to her stomach, where he let his lips linger. Her fingers wove through his hair as tears welled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I am too,” he said.

It was as if those apologies were a turning point for them. They fumbled with the rest of their clothes, almost as if they had never been together before. With each kiss and caress, the butterflies she’d had their first time came back. Her heart beat wildly with anticipation as he hovered over her. She shivered at the sensation of being with him again. She wanted this, and she wanted him.





In the early hours of the morning, as the sun rose, turning the sky to red, and as fishermen weighed the pros and cons of heading out to sea for the day, Carly Woods took her last breath.

She was surrounded by those she loved most.

Funeral services will take place at Harbor Church, followed by a celebration of life at the Whale Spout.