He opened the door for me.
“Are you asking about Orlando?” I looked at him.
“I am.”
“I’m there if you’re there. I’m here if you’re here.” I lea
ned into him. “I swear this girl is never leaving you again.”
He grinned. “I knew you’d leave this island with me.”
He was cocky, but I loved it because he was right.
Epilogue
I looked out over the water. The sun had almost set on another cold December day on the island. There were a few boats skimming the waves, making their way in for the night. I put the truck in reverse, cranked up the heat inside the cab, and made a U-turn out of Shell Point.
There were a few lights glowing on Shirley Lane. The clay pots spilled over with purple and gold pansies. I sighed as I passed the house. It was where everything had started. Again. I knew as long as I lived, I wouldn’t pass that house without thinking about Sierra and that summer. I shook my head and reached for the radio.
I slowed the truck before easing it onto a grassy lane. The grass was mostly brown now except for a few stubborn weeds, which refused to accept summer was long gone. I parked next to the marina office, but left the engine running. It was too cold to start the heating process all over again, and I knew Jojo would have the oysters ready for me.
“Well, look who’s here.” Jojo beamed from behind the counter.
“Hey, darlin’.” I strolled to the counter. “Did Willis get my order together?”
“Sugar, you know it.” Jojo walked out from behind the register and turned to the line of coolers near the door. “How many bushels you need?”
“I think one is plenty.” I withdrew cash from my wallet and placed it on the counter. I grabbed the canvas sack from her grasp. “Tell Willis I said thank you. I heard these were his best this year.”
“He’ll appreciate that, Blake.” She smiled. “Take care, honey.”
I heaved the fifty-pound sack into the bed of the truck and jumped into the cab, ready for the blast of heat. It didn’t matter to me what the temperature reading was on the dash; the cold had settled into all the nooks and crannies of the island. I continued south a few hundred yards. My thumb lightly drummed the top of the steering wheel. I couldn’t help but sing along with The Embers—somehow it made the summer not feel so far away.
I pulled the truck to the sound side of the house. From the windshield, I could see the low glow of a fire on the beach. Good. Cole’s at least got that going.
The oysters had slid to the tailgate. I reached over the side and retrieved the bushel Willis had sacked for me. By now, the sun had settled in the west, and the night sky was cast with a harvest moon that lit up the entire sound.
“Cuz, what kept you so long?” Cole stood on the beach, poking the orange embers with a long fire stick. He had assembled a long sheet of metal over four stacks of cinderblocks that acted as sawhorses. “This fire has been ready for thirty minutes.” The coals burned two feet under the platform.
I held up the canvas bag. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ve got the oysters.” I dropped the sack near Cole’s feet and scanned the empty beach. I took a deep breath of the chilled air.
“I have the champagne!” Emily giggled as she bounded over the grassy yard toward the beach. She held up a green bottle and pointed toward Sierra. “And sparkling cider.”
“I’m holding the good stuff. We are not smacking Moet into the sea.” Sierra smiled at me before my arms wrapped around her, and I buried my head in her shoulder.
“Darlin’, you need to keep me warm tonight.” The words made her purr in my ear.
My hand dropped to her belly where I could feel the small bump under her sweater. I rubbed over the fabric.
“Hey, you two. We have serious oyster roasting and boat christening to do tonight.” Emily wagged her finger at us.
Sierra tilted her head to the side. “We aren’t stopping you.”
“All right. So what’s the game plan? It’s damn cold out here.”
“This bottle is for drinking and celebrating.” Sierra held up the expensive French champagne. “And that one is for the boat.” She pointed to Emily’s bottle.
“Looks like you two covered all the bases.” I reached for the high-end bottle and unwrapped the foil sealing the cork. I looked at Cole. “And what about the oysters?”