Savor You (Fusion #5)(58)

“You say some sweet things.”

“I mean them,” I reply. “You know how I feel about you.”

“It’s kind of crazy, isn’t it?”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I was just thinking on our way here that it’s funny how fate works. Or destiny, or whatever you want to call it. Chance. Karma.” She steps around a crab trying to walk its way back to the ocean. “I don’t mean to keep bringing up our past. It’s in the past, and there’s no need to live there. We aren’t the same people, and we’re in a great place now.”

“Agreed.”

“I guess I just have one more question, and then I’m going to stop talking about it.”

“What do you want to know, Mia?”

She stops walking and looks out at the ocean for a long moment. The wind is blowing like crazy, and she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I came here. To the cabin.”

“After you left?”

She nods. “I stopped at my parents’ house and asked them for the keys. They looked worried, but my dad talked Mom into giving me the keys and just letting me be. They knew I was healthy, and that I’d be safe at the cabin. They asked for an explanation when I got home, but I just gave them the barest details.

“I came here, and I walked this beach, and I thought about what I’d done. The way I’d left. I was convinced that it was the right thing to do, even though I know now that it wasn’t.”

“We’ve already talked about that,” I reply.

“I know.” She turns to me now. “But I never asked you why you didn’t come to find me. After you saw that I was gone, why didn’t you come after me?”

I sigh and push my fingers through my hair. “Do you remember what you wrote in that letter?”

She frowns. “I said that you were free to find someone you really loved.”

“You said that we could find someone we truly loved to spend our lives with.” I drag my fingertips down her cheek. “I don’t know if you worded it that way on purpose, as a bit of a dig, but it stung. So, I guess the answer is, the same reason that you left—thinking that you didn’t love me and we weren’t in a real relationship is the same reason I didn’t try to find you.”

I kiss her forehead and pull her to me for a hug. “I don’t like the thought of you walking this beach by yourself with a broken heart.”

“It wasn’t quite that dramatic,” she murmurs, then laughs. “Actually, yeah. It was. I was twenty and I was heartbroken. But now I’m thirty, and I’m standing here on my favorite beach, with the man I’ve loved since I was a girl. I’m no poet, but I think that’s pretty fucking romantic.”

I laugh and lead her farther down the beach. “I agree. It’s pretty fucking romantic. The tide is out. Let’s go look around Haystack Rock to see what it brought in.”

She nods and we spend the next hour carefully walking around rocks, pointing out ocean creatures. There are plenty more crabs and sea stars. Finally we walk back to the hotel and order room service so we can sit out on the deck to watch the sunset.

“Hello,” the server says when the food is delivered. “I have dinner for two, and I brought up a complimentary pair of binoculars as well. The whales have been very active in the evenings.”

“Awesome!” Mia exclaims and takes the binoculars. She hurries out onto the deck to look for whales while I wait for the server to set up dinner. When he leaves, I join her.

“See anything?”

“Not yet,” she murmurs. “But you can bet your sweet ass I’ll be sitting out here until dark, just in case.”

“That’s the plan.” I smile when she turns around and sees the table set up on the deck. “You were too busy searching for Moby Dick to care that he was setting this up.”

“It’s fantastic.” She raises her lips for a kiss, and I oblige. “I’ve been craving a crab Caesar salad.”

“I’m sure it’s incredibly fresh.”

She takes a bite and nods happily. “Oh yeah. That’s good stuff. Here, have a bite.” She holds a bite up to my lips.

“Delicious.”

“What’s under there?” She points to a dish still covered.

“Dessert.”

“What is it?”

“A surprise.” I smirk when her eyes narrow. “You’re not terribly patient, are you?”

“No.” She laughs and continues eating her salad. “I can admit that I’m not patient. I hate surprises. I hate Christmas because my mom would wrap gifts weeks in advance. Our tree always went up Thanksgiving weekend, and the gifts would sit there for a month. It drove me nuts.”

“This isn’t a Christmas present,” I remind her. “It’s dessert.”

“And I’m just about finished with my entrée,” she says with an innocent smile.

“I’m not.” She narrows her eyes again, making me laugh. I actually am just about finished, but I take my time with the last few bites, enjoying the way she squirms in her chair. “Now I’m looking forward to Christmas.”

“Give me the sugar, and no one gets hurt.”

“Threats.” I cluck my tongue. “That’s not very ladylike.”