should have seen me at eight.” He smiled, even though the memory of just how close death had come was chilling. “I didn’t know to check for storm warnings. Especially not when the sky was blue and the wind was barely enough to set my sail fluttering. I’d never seen a storm blow in so fast. If I had been with my parents, or one of my siblings, I might have been able to keep my wits about me. But the truth is—and I’ll deny it if you ever tell another soul—I lost it. I panicked and forgot everything I knew about sailing. I was certain that I was going to die as the storm swept me up and tossed me around in a boat that felt no bigger than a thimble. And then I saw it.”
She was gripping her mug tightly enough for her knuckles to turn white. “A lighthouse.”
“Yes. The Bass Harbor Head revolving lights were shining bright enough to be visible through driving rain and fog. Everything that’s been said about what lighthouses symbolize—salvation, home, safety—is true. I found my way back to my family, to my friends, to my future, because of a light that showed me the way in rough waters.”
“Your parents must have been frantic.”
“Frantic is an understatement. They were beyond overjoyed that I made it home to them. And then I was grounded for the next decade.”
Her face had paled as he’d recounted his narrow escape. He was glad to see her laugh again. “I can only imagine what a wild eighteen-year-old you were, making up for lost time after ten years’ grounding.”
“I’d say you already have a good sense of just how wild I can be,” he said with a grin, just as his cell phone rang.
“Got a date you’re standing up?” she quipped.
Once he picked up his phone, he realized she was almost perfectly on the mark. “It’s my brothers and Flynn.” Turner’s text was quick and to the point.
Just finished playing hoops. Heading to pub. Should we save you a seat?
“I was supposed to meet them for a pickup game of basketball.” He’d never forgotten before. Then again, he’d never known anyone as distracting as Zara. “They’ve just headed for a post-game drink at the pub.”
Immediately, she shoved the blanket off her lap and stood.
He reached for her hand. “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving so that you can go hang with your brothers. I’m sure you’d much rather do that than sit here and argue about what we’re going to watch on TV.”
Yet again, she had it wrong. Although it had driven Chelsea crazy that he was always wanting to do something or make something rather than waste time lounging around on the couch with her, tonight he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up under a blanket with Zara. Even if they fought over the remote the entire time.
Still, he didn’t feel right about blowing the guys off. When Rory gave his word, he stuck by it.
“You could spend the night here, if you want.” He liked the thought of Zara making herself at home in his kitchen. Of finding her asleep in his bed when he got home.
Judging by the firm shake of her head, she wasn’t a fan of his suggestion. “I’ve already stayed too long.”
“I like having you here. In my house. In my arms too.” He kissed her, hoping that would help her see that he meant everything he’d just said.
But from her uncharacteristic silence on the drive back into town—for once, she didn’t even complain about his music—he was pretty sure she hadn’t.
* * *
Turner, Hudson, and Flynn were on their second pints of Guinness by the time Rory arrived at the pub.
Since Turner had returned from Los Angeles to continue growing his animation business from Maine, rather than California, Rory saw his younger brother at least once a week, whether on the basketball court, in the family café, or at their parents’ house.
It was far rarer to see Hudson these days. The oldest at thirty-seven, he’d moved to Boston not long after marrying Larissa. Rory liked Hudson’s wife. Unfortunately, he wasn’t certain that Larissa and Hudson liked each other all that much anymore. Hudson was in town for a few days to work on a landscape-design commission at one of the big estates on Mount Desert Island.
Flynn was the most recent addition to the group. Six months ago, after becoming the legal guardian for his niece, the award-winning screenwriter had come to Bar