Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
I laugh despite myself. "Lesson plans are the last thing on my mind right now."
"Good," he says, setting his phone down and stepping closer. He takes my mug and sets it aside, then pulls me in by the waist. His hands are warm through the thin fabric of my dress. "Because tonight we’re being a couple. Holding hands. Maybe stealing a kiss or two on the boardwalk. Making sure anyone watching sees exactly what we want them to see."
The words send a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the air conditioning. "And what is that?"
His voice drops deeper, playful but with an edge of something real. "That I can’t keep my hands off you. That you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. That this stopped being pretend a while ago."
I don’t have an answer for that. Not one I’m ready to say out loud. So I rise up on my toes and kiss him instead, quick and soft, tasting the coffee on his lips. He makes a low sound in his throat and deepens it for a moment before pulling back with a grin. "Careful, Wells. We’ve got plans tonight."
The drive into town is easy, the Jeep's top down and the afternoon sun warm on our skin. The town’s alive with summer energy. The sound of laughter and music carries from the boardwalk. Families walk with ice cream cones. The distant creak of the wooden planks under feet mixes with the thump of bass from somewhere down the line. I keep my hand over his on my leg and let myself lean into the pretense.
We park near the Lobster Shack and walk hand in hand toward the patio. The place is exactly as last time. We get a table overlooking the dark water, the lights from the boardwalk reflecting in soft ripples. Jace orders for us after I tell him what I prefer, and the easy domesticity of it makes something warm settle in my chest.
We’re halfway through a basket of perfectly crispy fried clams when he flags down the server, a young guy with sun-bleached hair and an easy smile. Jace leans back in his chair, all casual charm. "Hey, quick question. Victor around tonight? We heard he’s the guy to know in town. Wanted to say hello."
The server shakes his head. "Nah, man. He left town this afternoon. Business up the coast or something. Said he’d be back for the big concert though."
Jace thanks him and the guy moves on. I watch Jace's face carefully across the table. His expression stays relaxed, but I see the slight tightening at the corners of his eyes, the way his jaw flexes once before he smooths it out. I lean in, keeping my voice deep over the sound of the ocean and the restaurant chatter.
"Do you think he saw you yesterday at the restaurant?"
Jace shakes his head, but there’s a careful note in his voice when he answers. "I don’t think so. He was already heading for the door when I turned around. But you can never be too sure with him. He’s always been good at noticing things."
He pulls out his phone and types something quickly, thumb moving fast over the screen. I catch the name before he hits send. Crewe. One of the brothers. Probably updating the family about the plan to visit their mother tomorrow and the news that Victor has left town again. The web of secrets and family and danger feels tighter around us every hour, but sitting here across from Jace with the string lights glowing overhead and his knee pressed against mine under the table, it doesn’t feel as terrifying as it should.
Dinner stretches into easy conversation, and for once, I’m not thinking about the fact that it’s all supposed to be an act. He tells me stories about his brothers. The time Colt tried to teach Banks how to surf and they both ended up with matching bruises. The way Mack always had the best plans but somehow they still got caught. I counter with stories about Anniston dragging me into her schemes when we were kids, the way she could talk me into anything with that serious little face. The food’s perfect. The clams crispy on the outside, tender inside. The cold beer cuts through the richness. Every time our knees brush under the table I feel the spark of it. The lights from the boardwalk dance across the dark water and the sound of the ocean is a constant low rhythm underneath the laughter and clinking glasses.
After we pay and step back out into the night air, Jace takes my hand again without asking. We walk toward the candy-striped lighthouse at the far end of the boardwalk. The tower stands tall and bright against the dark sky, its red and white stripes glowing under the lights. People take pictures at the base, but we find a quieter spot near the railing where the sound of the waves is louder and the crowd thins. The breeze is cool against my skin. Jace stands close, his shoulder brushing mine, his hand still warm in mine.