20. Rosie

Chapter 20

Rosie

Catacles the Mermaid needed a friend.

I sat in front of my mural and stared at it while Lizzy curled in my lap. On the other side of the wall, I could hear Dylan talking on the phone but couldn’t make out what he was saying. It was comforting, in a way. I was used to the steady sounds of the ocean—the waves against my boat, the sound of people pulling in, talking to each other, walking on the dock. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sounds of people until Dylan moved in.

My like-a-brother, Dylan. Sure, he made my heart race, but that was just basic biology. Nothing to get all riled up over.

Except, if I thought too long about how he’d stared at my mural … then I’d be in real trouble of developing a crush.

Dylan was arguing with someone, which provided the perfect distraction. Louder than before, I heard him say, “Fine, Bret,” sounding exasperated. And then he started to sing. Horribly. I couldn’t even tell what song it was, and not because the sound was muffled through the wall.

“It’s a good thing he’s hot and can play hockey,” I whispered to Lizzy. “Because he’s not winning anyone over with that voice.”

Lizzy purred in agreement. I’d never met a more snuggly cat. She was still tiny, but she’d grown a bit since I’d found her.

“I’m. Not. Singing,” Dylan said firmly, and I raised my hands in solidarity and silently cheered. “Text me your other ideas.”

I scratched Lizzy’s neck as I considered the masquerade scene, her purr rumbling through me. What about a red octopus dressed like a princess, with pink shoes on the end of four tentacles? And an orange crown made of happy starfish. As soon as the idea hit me, I raced to get my paint ready.

I needed to work on paintings for my shop, especially since next week was packed with cruise ships coming in. Now that the weather was optimal, we’d be getting multiple cruise ships into port nearly every day. I needed more inventory, including smaller paintings, since those sold so well. I also needed to update my sticker selection.

Instead, I found myself here in front of this wall, attempting to process my life.

In a short amount of time, I went from living alone to having a next-door neighbor. From being single to being in a fake relationship. From not touching a guy more than just casually in over a year, to sitting in Dylan Savage’s lap and holding his hand and leaning against his arm and being pressed against the door with his lips near my ear … And liking it. A lot. My heart skipped up and around and over and under, and all the ways it could merrily hop about in my chest.

What was wrong with me? I wasn’t starved for male attention. Plus, I was in love with Max. Dylan showed up here with his bare chest and strong, can-lift-me-easily arms and it was confusing me. I groaned and dropped my head on the wall.

“You okay over there?” Dylan asked, his voice close to the wall.

I let out a shriek and nearly dropped my paint palette. Holy Hannah, I hadn’t realized he could hear me so well. But of course he could. I could hear him singing, or whatever that was.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound as fine as possible. It wasn’t like he could read my thoughts and know I’d just been picturing what those abs might have looked like in the moment he lifted me from my chair.

“Sounds like you hurt yourself,” he replied, his voice quieter, but somehow clearer. He must have moved even closer to the wall.

“I was just trying to bang some sense into my head.”

“Did it work?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you still want to get together with Maxamillion?” he asked.

A flare of irritation shot through me. “You know it’s just Max. And yes.”

“Then it didn’t work,” he replied.

I rapped my knuckles against the wall. “Hey.” But I also laughed. Quietly so hopefully he didn’t hear.

I heard him walk away, and I went back to painting my princess octopus, a smile on my face the entire time.

Walking on the floating dock always made me feel homesick. I’d lived in my houseboat for three years, and it had taken me months to get used to not getting rocked gently to sleep.

Dad’s envelope of cash was in my back pocket. I’d quietly pulled it off the market when I’d gotten Dylan’s rent money. Which meant Dad could stay there a few more months without causing too much stress.

I walked up the stairs of my blue and white boat and knocked on the door. Sometimes Dad answered, and sometimes he didn’t. I didn’t know what he did when he wasn’t on the boat. He needed to lie low in town, and he didn’t have a vehicle, but about half the time when I stopped by, he was gone.

When he answered, his warm smile removed any reservations I might have had about letting him live here.

“Come in,” he said. My houseboat smelled different—like smoke, pine, and popcorn. It pinged a long-forgotten memory of my parents’ bedroom when I was a little girl. “I just made caramel corn. Want some?”

“Sure.” I’d never had any of dad’s special caramel corn that I could remember. Haydn made it at the cabin when we did our movie nights. I snagged a few pieces. They were soggier than Haydn’s and tasted more buttery, but I reveled in every taste. Who would have thought, just one year ago, I’d be sitting here, with my dad , casually eating popcorn.

My brothers would never forgive him for abandoning us when things got tough, but I was too young to remember him and too young to feel any resentment. I didn’t want to have to hide Dad, but I needed time to convince my brothers that having him back in our lives would be a good thing.

I hadn’t started yet, though. It wasn’t that I was afraid, per se … It was that I hadn’t come up with a brilliant plan to break the news. Something like this couldn’t be settled with just a conversation. It needed schemes and steps, literary inspiration, maybe costumes, and I was really hoping it wouldn’t require another fake relationship, but I also wasn’t entirely against it. If I was lucky, Shrubs of Fog would hold the answer to telling my brothers about Dad, since I had to read it anyway. If I was really, really lucky, that answer would be in the first two pages, so I didn’t have to keep reading.

I wanted to love Dad and have a relationship with him without feeling disloyal to my brothers. And I hadn’t been able to figure that out yet.

“How’s life treating you?” Dad’s weather-worn face looked tired, but he smiled as he scooped some popcorn into a bowl for himself. A steaming mug of tea sat on the table.

“Pretty good. Our softball team’s doing well. And business has been steady at the shop.”

Dad sipped his tea and let out a satisfied sigh. “That’s fantastic. You know, it’s hard being cooped up in here all the time.”

Guilt gnawed at me. I handed him the envelope of money I’d brought. “Here are my tips.”

His smile was sad. “Thank you, darlin’. It’s more expensive to live here than I remembered.”

We chatted a few more minutes about the shop, and then I stood to leave. I needed to get ready for work. Dad pulled me into a hug, and I almost didn’t know what to do. People hugged their dads all the time. It was normal. I’d just never hugged my dad before—that I could remember. Surely young me had curled up in his arms between trips. But then I’d become the sour lemon, and he’d left, and that had been the end of fatherly hugs.

Maybe it was working. I was changing my dad’s perception of me. He was wanting to stay here and love me.

I left the boat floating on clouds. And slammed right into Bennett.

He took my arms and looked me over. Deep grooves of concern lined his eyes. “What are you doing down here?”

“Just checking on the boat.”

“I can do that for you. There’s no reason for you to have to come all the way down here, when I’m here every day.”

“I want to do it,” I said quickly. Bennett showing up at my boat unexpectedly would definitely be a huge complication. I looked at him more closely. He was always exhausted after a several-day fishing trip, but this exhaustion looked deeper. Similar to how he’d looked in the months after Lily broke up with him. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes shifted to the side. “I don’t know how to tell you this—”

“Something happened to your boat.” My heart raced with possibilities, none of them good.

“No, I—”

“Haydn and Lia got hurt.”

“They’re fine. It’s that—”

“Jules is—”

“Rosie! I’m pretty sure I saw Dad in town.”

“Oh.” Now my heart raced for an entirely different reason. Crap. Dad was supposed to stay out of sight and only go into town when Bennett was out to sea. “You also thought you saw him last year. And the year before.”

“I did.” Bennett frowned. “Or at least, I think I did. It’s been a long time. He might have changed.”

“Maybe he wants to reconcile,” I said, sounding a little too hopeful. If I could get Bennett on board, he’d help me convince the others. Then all these secrets could go away, and we could be on our way to becoming one, big, happy family.

“No. Dad being here would mean nothing good. If you see him, stay far away.”

My hope deflated.

He looped an arm around my shoulders, and we walked toward the parking lot together. “How was practice? I heard that you and a certain someone were pretty close.”

I elbowed him in the side, and he let out an oof. “Practice went well, in case you were wondering.”

He pulled his arm even tighter around my neck and rubbed his knuckles into my skull. “I just figured, romantic that you are, you’d want to talk about the kissing first.”

“Haydn!” My brothers always did this. Teased the living daylights out of me whenever I had a boyfriend. “We haven’t kissed. Yet.” But actually, that should be on the table, right? I hadn’t kissed that many guys before—what with there being so few single guys in Winterhaven, and me being busy running my boutique. The thought of kissing Dylan wasn’t horrible. We’d almost done it that one night, even. Maybe it would be good practice, actually, before I was on deck with Max.

“Oh, come on. You can tell us about it.”

“Us? I’m only talking to you.”

He pulled out his phone. “Not once I put this in the group chat.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I promised to keep them updated about you.”

I reached out to snag his phone, but he jumped back before I could. He held the phone over his head where I couldn’t reach it.

He had voice-to-text on, and was saying, “Rosie has a boyfriend. It’s Dylan Savage. She wants to date him. She wants to kiss him. She wants to—”

“Don’t listen to him! It’s a lie! LALALA!” I tried to yell over him. I managed to knock his elbow down, and he fumbled the phone in his hands.

But then he smiled at me victoriously. “Sent.”

I huffed out a laugh, and then Bennett started laughing too as he stared down at his phone. Mine vibrated with the incoming message, and I pulled it from my back pocket.

Bennett: Rosie has a listen. Friend. Him a lie. It’s Savage. She lala to date lala marry—”

The question marks rolled in instantly, which only made us laugh harder.

“I’m hungry,” I said. “Want to come to my place for a quick dinner before my shift, and we can leave them hanging a little longer?”

“That’s evil.”

“I have leftover lasagna …”

“I’m in,” he said. “And you can give me a play by play of—”

“Me and Dylan making out?”

“Of practice,” he said loudly, to talk over me saying, “Well, his lips were wetter than I expected, but he knows how to work his teeth, that’s for sure.” Two could play at this game.

“Stop. I give. I have regrets.” Bennett covered my mouth, but I kept pontificating on teeth and tongues and saliva to my brother’s laughing groans.

I turned back to look at my boat as we hopped in our cars, and I thought I saw Dad watching us from the deck. But it was only the back of his head before he turned around and went inside.