Carly was sitting on the stairs to the deck putting on a brave face. Every step felt like quicksand weighing him down, sucking him under, far too reminiscent of when he’d left Pleasant Hill all those years ago. Back then he’d been so fucking scared taking off into the world without anyone to lean on but himself, he’d poured all of those emotions into forcing himself to focus on the next mile, the next country, the next adventure, which had all seemed more like a jail sentence. He’d made a life of moving around, no attachments, no goodbyes. He’d gone wherever the wind had taken him because he’d thought he’d lost Carly forever, and if she wasn’t waiting for him, then who the hell cared what was?
Carly rose to her feet as he neared the deck, a forced smile sliding into place on her beautiful face. “Guess this is it,” she said far too cheerily. “Back to the kitchen for me and the sea for you.”
They’d been readying themselves for this moment, but there was no hiding the longing in her eyes or the sadness wafting off her like a gale-force wind as she reluctantly pushed him to leave. The trouble was, he no longer wanted to be carried by the wind. He wanted to be her wind, to sweep her up and carry her with him.
“Let’s not do that,” he said, taking her hand.
She lifted her chin, her lower lip trembling as she said, “Do what?”
He gathered her in his arms and buried his face in her neck, breathing her in. “Pretend this doesn’t hurt. You’re not alone in this, Carls.”
“It’s too hard,” she choked out, burrowing closer.
He felt her trembling and put one hand on the back of her head, his other arm around her middle, and squeezed his eyes tightly closed, willing his strength to become hers. “Nothing is too hard for us. Life is our highway, baby. We walked through our darkened doors. Our blues can’t haunt us anymore.”
She made a half-laughing, half-crying sound. He pressed his lips to her cheek, wishing he had the magic words to take her pain away. Hell, he wished he could take his own pain away, too. He drew back, gazing into her glassy eyes, and his chest constricted. He needed to find a way to get her into a better place before he left so she wasn’t a wreck when he was gone.
“You’re going to make a killing at the festival, and with any luck I’ll find something amazing this week.” He kissed her softly and said, “We’ll talk every night. The time will fly by—you’ll see.”
She nodded, blinking rapidly, struggling to keep her tears at bay, which made it that much harder for him to keep his own emotions in check. He framed her face between his hands, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. He hated not knowing when he’d be with her again, but he had to be strong for her.
“I love you, Carls. Always have, always will.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “I know. I love you, too,” she said just above a whisper. “But you have to leave.”
“Sick of me already?”
She shook her head. “But if you don’t leave now, I might drag you inside, tie you to my bed, and never let you go.”
“Baby, that is not the way to get me to leave.” He pulled out his phone, put one arm around her, touching the side of his head to hers, and said, “Last-time-we or remember- when pic?”
“How about if we call this one until next time?”
“Sounds perfect.” He took the picture, and then he took another while kissing her cheek, then another kissing her lips. Bandit went paws-up on his legs, and they took a picture with him, too. Zev pocketed his phone and embraced Carly one last time. “Love you, baby.”
“I love you so much, Zevy. But please leave,” she said, fanning her teary eyes. “Get out of here before I cry a river and you need a boat to get away.”
How could he leave when she was on the verge of breaking down? “Don’t cry, babe. We’ve got our second chance.”
“I know,” she said, shoving him toward the truck with shaky hands. “But go, please, just go.”
Bandit jumped into the truck, and as Zev followed him in, he tried to get Carly to smile, saying, “A guy could get a complex being pushed away like this.” She waved him off, crossing her arms, jaw tight, the edges