Deep (Pagano Family #4)(76)
Nick had apparently seen it, too. Bev replayed the exchange she’d overheard between him and Chris that day at Ben’s. Nick had known. At least Sky hadn’t known—it made Bev feel fractionally better that another woman had missed the signs the men had apparently seen.
“You’re not going to finish your lunch, are you?” Sky turned a disappointed eye on Bev’s basket.
Bev shrugged.
“Fine, then. I’d sacrifice small children for your curves, but waste away if you want. Come on. Let’s shop.”
oOo
Nick pulled his Tahoe into the small gravel lot at the Quiet Cove lighthouse and parked. Bev was surprised—he’d said he wanted to take her somewhere special. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been this.
“We’re here?”
He turned and smiled his beautiful smile. “We are. Have you ever been here?”
“It’s not open to the public, is it?”
“Not for the last few years, no. It’s still a working lighthouse, but the path down to the shore isn’t for the faint of heart—it’s steep, and the shore is all rocks, no beach. Some dumb kids were being *s, and one of them fell and died. Since then, until the town gets a proper walkway built, which is turning into a hassle, it’s closed to everyone but the people keeping the lighthouse working.”
“And us.” Bev smiled. Rules didn’t often apply to Nick. Not the same rules normal people followed, anyway.
His smile became a grin. “And us.” He opened his door. “Come on.”
Knowing that he wanted her to wait until he opened her door for her, and liking that he had this little old-fashioned quirk, Bev sat until he did so. When she stepped out, he led her around the lighthouse to a deck facing the water.
The Quiet Cove lighthouse was, as far as Bev knew, a typical New England lighthouse: a tall, white, tapering column topped with a glass-paned beacon, painted bright red. There was a tiny house-shaped building attached on one side, where, before the days of automation, the lighthouse keeper lived, she supposed.
Situated at the edge of a rocky bluff and ringed with a railed, wooden deck, the structure had guided ships into the harbor for probably three hundred years.
Nick led her onto the deck and around to the front—or was it the rear?—of the lighthouse, overlooking the ocean. There was a wooden bench, painted bright red, against the building on this side. He led her there, and they sat. He put his arm around her, and she settled against him.
And then he said nothing. He just stared out at the water.
She let him be quiet for a few minutes, but eventually, she had to know. “Nick, why are we here?”
Without turning from the ocean, he said, “I come here a lot—usually around this time, in the evening, when the light gets gold. I sit and smoke and think. I don’t care much for the beach, but I love the ocean. I’d like it just fine if they never get the walkway built.”
She looked over the railing at the steep, rocky incline. There was a kind of a path, but not one she’d have been brave enough to attempt. And the shore below was all rocks, big and craggy. “Why haven’t they built it?”
“To get one that’s safe, and meets ADA requirements, and is consistent with the regulations on changes to historical sites, it’s expensive—and it’s the Cove. Once people start talking about historical sites, it’s years before they stop fighting and make a decision. It’ll happen. Like I said, I’m in no rush.”
She wondered if he was hampering the process at all. Maybe, for a Pagano, not being in favor of it was hamper enough. “Why are we here?”
He turned and met her eyes. “I love you, bella.”
She smiled and started to return the sentiment, but he put his fingers on her lips. “I think of this place as my place. I come here to be alone with the ocean and to work out difficult problems.”
He paused, his green eyes searching her face. Bev felt like there was something she should be understanding, but whatever it was, it eluded her. “I don’t understand, Nick.”
Something went through his eyes like a shadow, and Bev got the sense somehow that he’d changed his mind. From what to what, she had no idea; she wasn’t even sure why she was so sure that he had. But when he spoke, she didn’t think it was the thing he’d meant to tell her when he’d brought her here.
“I got some news about my family today—family you haven’t met. My cousin Carmen is getting married. Here in the Cove, in a month or so. She’s going to be in town this weekend. I want you to come to Mass with me and meet the rest of my family. I want you to start coming to Mass with me.”
They’d not yet talked much about religion. He went to Mass every week, but he’d never even raised the idea of her going with him before. “I’m not Catholic.”
“So you won’t take communion. You believe, right?”
“Sure, but—”
“It’s settled, then. You’ll sit with me at Mass, and this Sunday we’ll go to my cousin Carlo’s house after. They’re throwing Carmen an engagement party.”
All he’d said about his cousins was that there were a lot of them. In her earlier life, she would have been excited at the thought of meeting new people, but now she felt overwhelmed by the idea. She wondered if she’d ever get her old life back. “It’s important to you?”