“I should go.”
He came toward her and placed his hand on her waist, pulling her toward him. “If you go, I go.”
“It’s not that easy, Bowie.” She knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Being with you is the easiest thing I’ll ever do.”
“Grady says no one will ever accept us being together.”
“Bullshit. It’s been fifteen years, Brooklyn. We’re allowed to move on, and once people know Brystol’s mine, they’ll be happy for us.”
She shook her head, unable to believe him. He trailed his finger down her cheek until he reached her chin and lifted her head until he could look in her eyes. “Those demons dancing around in your pretty little head need to be exorcised.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Maybe I can,” he said moments before his lips pressed to hers. He withdrew slightly. “I am in love with you, Brooklyn Hewett. If you leave, I go with you.” He kissed her deeply. “And if it means we live in hotels for the rest of our lives, so be it. You’re not leaving without me.”
“But—” As much as she tried to fight her attraction to Bowie, she felt it stronger, deep within her bones. The anxiety she’d felt turned to anticipation. She craved his touch, his body pressed against hers, the way he whispered her name. She wanted it all.
“There are no buts in this, B. We’re in this together, no matter what. I will protect you, be your voice when yours fails you. I will not let you succumb to the guilt you feel.”
“Bowie . . .” His name fell softly from her lips before she closed the small gap between them. His words, his vow, they charged her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and molded herself to him. He lifted her and carried her to his bed, then laid her down gently. Her fingers tickled his barely there beard, and he smiled.
“Your eyes are so beautiful,” she told him as she gazed into his blue eyes. The same eyes their daughter had. “We made a gorgeous girl.”
Bowie grinned widely. “We did. I’ve never forgotten that night.”
“Me neither.”
“Don’t let Grady’s words come between us, Brooklyn. We deserve a shot at happiness.”
She agreed and pulled him closer. “Maybe you can make me forget what he said?”
“Are you sure I’m what you want?” he asked as he lay beside her.
“Without a doubt.”
He sat back on his knees and pulled at her shirt, lifting it over her head. She lay there, letting his eyes rove over her. He came forward and kissed a trail down her chest to her stomach, where he let his lips linger. Her fingers wove through his hair as tears welled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I am too,” he said.
It was as if those apologies were a turning point for them. They fumbled with the rest of their clothes, almost as if they had never been together before. With each kiss and caress, the butterflies she’d had their first time came back. Her heart beat wildly with anticipation as he hovered over her. She shivered at the sensation of being with him again. She wanted this, and she wanted him.
In the early hours of the morning, as the sun rose, turning the sky to red,
and as fishermen weighed the pros and cons of heading out to sea for the day,
Carly Woods took her last breath.
She was surrounded by those she loved most.
Funeral services will take place at Harbor Church,
followed by a celebration of life at the Whale Spout.
In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the Cape Harbor Fisherman’s Fund.
THIRTY-THREE
Bowie pulled his razor slowly against his skin, slicing off a couple days’ worth of stubble even though he knew Brooklyn enjoyed the feel against her skin. Their lovemaking had been interrupted by their daughter asking where her mother was. After the call, they both lay there, laughing. It wasn’t the first time a call had torn them apart. His free hand gripped the side of the counter as his shoulders hunched forward and he replayed yesterday in his mind. Happy, elated feelings mixed with sorrow and tears. It was hard to put into words what he felt. Hot water rushed over the razor, cleaning it off. Repeat and rinse, until very little shaving cream remained on his face. He shut the water off and stood upright, studying himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy, the result of the tears he had shed as Carly died and from a lack of sleep. The hours prior had been hard. Sleep was nonexistent while everyone kept vigil in Carly’s room. Until now, he had never witnessed someone dying, and though she had looked at peace, he had wondered if she really was. He had known the morphine kept most of the pain at bay, but as he had taken his turns staying with her, he had seen her face grimace and her eyes flutter and was curious to know if she was aware, if she was in pain, or if those were involuntary muscle spasms. She had continued to have moments of lucidity, which he would be eternally grateful for. Carly had told Brystol she loved her many times before she had taken her final breath, which to him meant everything, considering what he and Brooklyn were about to tell her. Many times, he had wanted to leave the room, but he couldn’t leave Brooklyn and Brystol, so he had stayed and held on to Brooklyn when she would take a break from sitting by Carly.