“That’s not why I’m here.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
“I came for Charlie—”
“And I call bullshit. And you’ll make peace with stuff a whole lot faster if you start telling yourself the truth. Truth is, you’re messed up.”
Josh stepped up to her and put his hand on the side of her face. She was too surprised to move away, and her gaze shot up to his automatically, as if drawn there by magnetic force.
She half-hated that he was right and half-admired the fact that he’d known that about her.
He leaned forward and dropped a tender kiss on her forehead. “Go home, Lizzie. Have a glass of wine. Give yourself a break. Get some sleep. You seriously need to learn to relax.”
She gave an emotional laugh. “That’s not exactly in my vocabulary. My kind of relaxation comes from adrenaline. Now, if you suggested bungee jumping at dawn, I might be your girl.”
He shook his head. “Crazy,” he muttered.
Josh turned and started walking back toward her cottage, and she fell into step beside him. “Spend some time with Charlie, then,” he suggested. “Sit on her deck and listen to the waves and the seagulls. Go out on the ocean. Go shopping. Eat ice cream. Whatever it takes.”
“What works for you, Josh?” Lizzie wasn’t convinced any of those things would distract her from the issue at hand. Her toes squidged in the sand as they ambled back along the beach where she’d been running, following the curve of the “fiddle” for which it was named.
“My boat. I go out in the bay and take my fishing rod and let the wind and the waves and the quiet work their magic. Nothing can touch me out there.”
“It sounds nice.”
“You could come with me sometime.”
She laughed. “Fishing? Really? Do I look like someone who goes fishing?”
“Why?” he asked. “Because you did your degree at Harvard? You might break a nail? Or is that pastime a little too pedestrian for you?”
“Ouch. Great. Now I’m elitist and you have a chip on your shoulder.” But she was teasing him.
“Then maybe you’d like a trip out to Lovers’ Island. To search for treasure.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Before you say no, there are some neat caves there that you can explore at low tide. And a fabulous beach. Think about it. The clinic is closed on Sunday. We could go then.”
“Is this one of those you’re not going to take no for an answer things?”
“Consider it for your own good.”
“Try again.”
“Because your boss is telling you to?”
“And this is why I want to be the boss.”
He laughed. “Indulge me. If you hate it, we’ll come back. It’s not like it’s that far, and you can leave your car right at the marina. I’ll be taking the Constant out for a rip regardless. If you’re interested, meet me at the dock at eight. That’s a little late for me to be going out, but any earlier and you’ll have an excuse not to come.”
They’d reached the crooked wooden steps leading from the cottage down to the beach. She faced him, tempted to accept the invitation and wanting to say no just so he got the message that boss or not, he wasn’t in charge, particularly of her days off.
“Good night, Josh. Thanks for…” She thought of how she’d huddled in his arms and cried, how she’d snapped at him, how they’d gone from that to this calm, quiet conversation. It was the strangest thing. “Thanks for the chat.”
Wow. That was a rather underwhelming description of the last hour.
“You’re welcome. I won’t even charge.”