Lighthouse Road (Cedar Cove #1)(99)

It wasn’t easy, but Justine couldn’t leave things as they were between her and Seth. She hadn’t seen him since that horrible night when Warren had confronted him at D.D.’s on the Cove. Never in all her life had she been so humiliated. She supposed she should be grateful because that night had opened her eyes to what she’d become.

Seth was back in town, although Justine didn’t know for how long. Realizing she’d lose her courage if she thought about this too much, Justine went over to the marina.

Seth was busy working on his boat, stripping paint. He seemed oblivious to her. Her footsteps were heavy with shame and dread as she walked down the dock toward him. She stood in front of his slot. Not sure what to do with her hands, she tucked them in the hip pockets of her jeans.

“Hello, Seth.”

He stopped his work and slowly turned to face her. His mouth was set and tight. “Hello, Justine.”

He didn’t seem receptive to her presence. But then, he didn’t have any reason to be. “I imagine you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” she mumbled.

“Not particularly.”

She ignored his lack of welcome. “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

“No problem, it’s forgotten.” He returned to his task, as if everything had already been said. He certainly wasn’t eager to talk with her, which made this even more difficult than it already was.

“Do I…disgust you?” she asked.

He paused, glancing in her direction. “What I think of you or Warren shouldn’t concern you.”

“It does because…because, dammit, Seth—oh, never mind.” She bolted and got maybe half a dozen steps down the dock when she stopped abruptly. She had the horrible feeling that if she walked away from Seth now, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

When she turned back, she was surprised to find he’d leapt onto the dock and was only a step or two behind her.

“You care what I think?” he demanded, his brow furrowed.

Her voice deserted her; she simply nodded.

“Fine, then hear me out.” Everything about him told her he was angry. His stance was confrontational, his fists clenched, his eyes narrow and hard. “You’re a fool if you marry Warren Saget, and I don’t suffer fools gladly.”

“I know.”

“You’re still going to marry him?”

“No,” she cried. “I broke it off with him that night.”

Seth’s head reared up. “You’re not seeing Warren anymore?”

“No.” She didn’t mention any of the things Warren had said and done to win her back, but there weren’t enough gifts in the world to accomplish that.

“I doubt he took the news sitting down.”

“He’s had trouble believing me, but he’ll accept my decision in time.” He wouldn’t have any choice.

“So what’s next?” Seth asked.

The answer was completely up to him, but Justine couldn’t tell him that, so she shrugged. A heartfelt shrug, conveying uncertainty…and hope.

“What did that mean?”

“What?” she asked innocently.

“That shrug.”

“I don’t know,” she said desperately. “I guess I’m just letting you know I’m here.”

He frowned. “Here?”

“You told me once that I should come to you when I broke it off with Warren—and well, I’m here.”

“I said that?”

“Close enough.”

“If you think I’m just going to—”

“Yes,” she interrupted.

“Then I’ve got news for—” He stopped. “What did you say?”

She squared her shoulders. “When? Just now? I said yes.”

“What was the question?”

“Well,” she said, exhaling slowly, “I didn’t quite give you time to ask, but what I said was yes. Meaning I’ll marry you.”

Her answer appeared to confuse him further. He stared at her for the longest moment and, still unsure of his reaction, Justine said nothing. He started toward her, then halted, then walked directly past her. He’d gone four or five feet before he turned back. “Are you coming or not?” he asked impatiently.

“Where are we going?”

“To get a marriage license.”

“Now?”

He smiled then, the most wonderful smile she’d ever seen. “I don’t believe in long engagements.”

Justine threw back her head and laughed. “As it happens, neither do I.”

The front door of 16 Lighthouse Road was open. Olivia sat out on the porch with her needlepoint in her lap, the portable phone at her side. The wicker rocking chair had been her mother’s and she loved spending summer evenings right here, enjoying the view and watching the sun set over the Olympics.

The phone rang, disturbing her solitude, and Olivia answered without giving it a chance to ring again.

“Mom, it’s me—Justine,” her daughter said. “Okay, listen. I have some news and I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, because—”

Olivia heard someone arguing with her in the background. “Justine?”