father's pride, a certain belligerence that he'd been too young to recognize before, almost as if Simon were daring Idle Point to contradict him. Noah asked his mother about it once, but she'd told him he was imagining things. "We waited a long time for you, Noah," she said. "You can't blame him if he's sometimes a tad heavy-handed."
He accepted her explanation, but he never forgot the expression in her eyes as she turned away. He didn't want to know what made her look so sad.
He didn't want to know why his father had never loved him.
Noah's return generated a fair share of interest and before long it seemed as if the entire town knew what he was going to do before he did it. The guys at the Gazette teased him about prep school and his rich-boy haircut and the girlfriends they were sure he had by the dozen. If he talked to one of the typists, his father's pals nudged each other and exchanged winks. If he looked tired in the morning, they ribbed him about having had a big night before. They took breaks and lunches together at Patsy's same as ever, and the fact that Noah never joined them didn't escape their notice.
Or Simon's.
They'd asked Noah to join them for lunch that afternoon but he'd been halfway to his car and his mind was already consumed by thoughts of Gracie. He'd brushed them off with a shake of his head and kept on walking. It wasn't a big deal. At least it hadn't seemed so to him but it looked like he was wrong. Simon began reading him the riot act as soon as they sat down to dinner that evening.
"They're good men," his father said to him. "They're the ones you'll need in your corner when you take over the Gazette."
"I don't need them in my corner," he said, "because I'm never going to take over the Gazette."
"You say that now but you'll change your mind."
"I'm not going to be trapped in this place the rest of my life." He wanted to chart his own course, not follow in his father's footsteps.
"You'll do what I tell you to do," his father had said, anger tightening the corners of his mouth.
"You can't tell me how to live my life."
"Many sacrifices have been made for you. I—"
"Simon." His mother touched Simon's forearm with her hand. "There's no need for this."
He had never seen his father look at his mother with such fury. "Maybe it's time he learned what was sacrificed so that he could—"
"That's enough!" Fear laced her words, a fear so real Noah could almost smell it in the room.
Suddenly he had wanted to get as far away from there as fast as he could.
"Where do you think you're going?" his father had called out as he kicked back his chair and stood up.
"Out."
"Dinner isn't over."
"Stay," his mother urged. "Have some dessert."
"Don't wait up for me," he said. "I'll be late."
Five minutes later he was racing down the road toward the lighthouse and Gracie.
#
Noah always parked just around the bend where the road split, making sure his tiny sports car was hidden deep in the shadows thrown by the lighthouse. Gracie slipped her ancient Mustang into the space between his car and the fence and darted swiftly across the rocks to where he waited for her on a slender strip of sand. He was lying on his back on the faded blue blanket they called their own, hands linked behind his head, looking up at the stars.
Gracie threw herself down on the blanket next to him and kissed him. "I'm sorry I'm so late," she said as she snuggled down into his embrace, "but Gramma felt like talking and..." Her words trailed off. She didn't want to talk about what lay ahead. "I'm glad I'm here."
He pulled her closer. His body was warm and hard and strong and she melted against it, amazed as always by the way they fit together.
"I was afraid you weren't going to make it," Noah said after they'd kissed a few times, deep delicious kisses that made her restless and hungry inside.
"Nothing could keep me away from you," she said, even though she knew you were never supposed to tell a boy how much you cared. "The worst nor'easter in the world wouldn't keep me away."
He looked at her strangely for what seemed like forever. His beautiful blue eyes looked dark with shadows.
"What?" she asked, forcing a little laugh. "Why are