Take A Chance With Me (With Me in Seattle 18)

“You’re handy to have around,” I inform him as I sit on a stool. “Thanks.”

“Oh, you want some, too? This is mine.” He grins and slides the hot mug across the island to me. “Just kidding. How was the rest of your night?”

“Pretty uneventful, actually. Steady, but nothing remarkable happened. I’m glad the college kids turned out to be harmless. I talked with Sinead before I came home.”

I blow on the tea and take a sip.

“What’s the plan?” he asks.

“First of all, are you okay with this? I made the decision without even talking with you about it first.”

“You want to go, so we’ll go. It’s fine with me.”

I nod in relief. “Great. I’m excited. We need to leave in two days. I know that’s fast, but Sinead is really in a bind. Both of her housekeeping girls are out, and she needs help with breakfast in the morning. She’s putting us up in the guest house on the property.”

“Great,” he says. “It’ll be nice to be there.”

“I think so, too.” I sip my tea. “I’m excited to spend some quality time near the ocean.”

“Uh, babe? I hate to be the one to break this to you, but we live near the ocean.”

“I know.” I wrinkle my nose. “But the inn has views of the ocean, and we’re going to be staying on the property.”

He leans against the countertop and crosses his arms over his impressive chest. “Okay, I have a question for you. What does your dream home look like?”

“Huh?”

“Humor me.”

I look down into my mug as a series of images move through my mind, and then I shrug. “I don’t know. Small, I guess. Simple.”

“That’s not good enough. Give me specifics.”

“This is silly.”

“No, it’s not silly. I want you to answer the question. I want you to tell me what you want rather than brushing the question away.”

“I guess I want a Craftsman home, near the water, with a garden. I want a gourmet kitchen and enough bedrooms that I can be the cool aunt and have all the kids come to stay with me. And I want to see the ocean from my bedroom.”

He nods. “That sounds amazing. Now, why couldn’t you just say that in the first place? Why do I always have to coax and pull information out of you?”

“You don’t—”

“I do.” He rubs his hand over his face. “Your music, what kind of car you want, hell, just about anything at all. If I ask for your opinion, for what you want, you brush me aside and say anything is fine. But it’s not fine, damn it. I want you to tell me what you want because it’s my mission in life to give it to you.”

My mouth drops open.

“I suspect that this is something left over from before,” he continues, “and you don’t have to confirm or deny that, but I’m not your former husband. I won’t shut you down, make you feel stupid, or disregard your feelings. I want you to have whatever you want.”

“I’m not used to asking for it,” I admit. “Of course, I want a beautiful beach house. But the one I have is—”

“If you say fine, I’ll spank your gorgeous ass.”

I bite my lip.

“Let’s work on this, okay? Be honest with me. We established a while ago that we don’t lie, and we don’t keep secrets, right?”

“Yeah.” I sigh and take another sip of tea. “I’ll work on it.”

“Good.” He pushes away from the counter and walks around to me. “Now, let’s go to bed so I can lose myself in you for a while.”

“That sounds nice.”

“I’m going for better than nice, sweetheart.”

Chapter 17

~Maggie~

“I can’t sleep,” I say and look over at Cam, who’s watching me in the moonlight. “I should be so tired because we’ve done nothing but scramble for the last two days to get ready for this trip, but I’m all worked up and can’t just lie in this bed anymore.”

“Okay,” he says and sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. “What do you want to do?”

“Can we go to the beach?”

He’s quiet, and then he nods. “Sure. It’s dark, so we won’t be able to see much, but why not?”

We climb out of bed, quickly dress in layers because it’ll be chilly out by the water, and then we’re in my car, driving over to the beach’s public access. I cut the engine, and Cam and I walk hand in hand to the sand.

“We can see the whitecaps on the waves,” I point out. “They glow in the moonlight.”

“It’s pretty, even at three in the morning,” he agrees and leads me to a washed-up log, where we sit and listen to the music of the ocean.

“I used to come down here,” he says after a moment, “when I was a teenager, and my dad was passed-out drunk. I hated my home life, Mags. I hated that my mom left when I was young and didn’t tell me why. No one ever explained it to me. One day, she was just gone. And for a long time, I used to wonder what I did wrong to chase her away.”