The Long and Winding Road (The Seafare Chronicles 4)

He frowned at me. “And just how many people are you telling this to?”

“Enough that I realize people think you’re some kind of hardass.”

“I am a hardass. You see how big I am?” He flexed, and it was so unfair. “I’m intimidating.”

“Yeah, yeah. Scary as all hell.”

“Damn right.”

“You’ve got dust on your nose.”

“Maybe I like it there.” His cheek scraped against mine as he turned to kiss me.

“That’s fine with me,” I mumbled against his lips.

“Good,” he said as he pulled away. Before I could complain, he reached behind me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly.

We were quiet for a time, each of us lost in our own thoughts. He’d been right. It was weird seeing everything stored away, ready for the move. We’d accumulated so much crap in the last four years. And rather than taking it back with us, we’d sold or donated all the shit we didn’t need. The Green Monstrosity wasn’t as big as our New Hampshire house, and even though I was sure we could find room for everything we had, it wasn’t necessary. It felt like we were getting back to who we once were, and I couldn’t help but be nervously happy about it.

I said, “We’re doing the right thing.”

He hummed a little.

“Right?”

He squeezed me tighter. “Yes. Yeah. I think so. It?

?ll be good for him. For all of us.”

“And you’re happy?”

He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just asking.”

“Fishing, more like.”

“A little.”

“Yes, Bear. I’m happy.”

“But it could be better.”

“I don’t get where you’re going with this. Bear, we’re good. Everything is good.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. Which, really, was practically an impossibility, given that I was about to take the biggest leap of my life. My heart was starting to thump almost painfully in my chest, and I had to force myself to remain calm.

I pulled away from him, setting my beer down on the floor next to us. His frown deepened as he watched me, those lines on his forehead appearing as they always did when he was concerned.

“So look,” I said, wincing a little as my voice broke. “I wanted to talk. To you. About something.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you nervous?”

I groaned. “Because I am. That’s the type of person I am.”