Until Then (Cape Harbor)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Rennie was having fun. If someone had told her she would be spending her New Year’s Eve in a bar in some small island town off the coast of Washington, and not in the mountains of Canada, she would have laughed and walked away. None of her colleagues would appreciate a place like this. Theo would turn up his nose and ask her if she were feeling all right. She was magnificent, happy, and at peace. The person she was when Brooklyn, Bowie, and Graham were around was who she wanted to be. Not stuffy, worried about work, stressed over whether an invite to the social gathering of the year was going to arrive, or always wondering if the man she was with would actually show up at her place as planned. She knew the answer—no, he wouldn’t, because he was married.

  She sat on the stool, sipped her margarita, and watched Graham play darts with a few of the other guys in the bar, and every so often she would walk over to him and place her hand on his back or his waist and stake her claim. And each time she did, Graham would put his arm around her and kiss her forehead. There were nine or so people gathered in their area, and a few of the women were near Rennie. Everyone was chatting; they were friendly, asking her questions about where she and her husband were from and why they chose Friday Harbor to celebrate New Year’s. Answers fell from her tongue easily—some lies, but mostly truths. She never corrected any of them when they referred to Graham as her husband, and when asked what she did for work, she told them she was in private practice and that they owned a bar in Cape Harbor, and Rennie invited them to come and visit the next time they were in town.

  When Graham would return to the table for a refresher, Rennie would flirt heavily, and Graham would reciprocate. Their chemistry was automatic, and it made the other women swoon when he winked at Rennie. He checked in often and leaned down to whisper in her ear each time to ask if she was enjoying herself. She was having a blast, and it was the truth. She couldn’t think of any other place she’d rather be.

  When it was Rennie and Graham’s turn at the pool table, she slowly rose from her seat. Graham must’ve noticed her wobble and was by her side instantly to help her. “Are you okay to play?”

  “It’s these damn shoes.” She slipped them off and set them on her chair. Renee Wallace would’ve balked at walking around a bar barefoot, and honestly, Rennie should’ve as well. But there was no way she was going to let Graham down. They’d lost their first game, and there was no way they’d lose their second.

  They were facing two guys this time. Friends from college, they had said, which brought back a slew of memories for Rennie and Graham. They often ran the tables in bars to earn money while in California; they’d had hundreds to choose from and would rarely go back to the same bar more than twice. People always caught on quickly to what they were doing and wouldn’t play them, so there was no use in returning.

  One of the frat guys broke and knocked down two solids and two stripes. The teams each quietly talked strategy. Graham wanted the frat boys to take the solids because he saw better angles on the stripes, and Rennie agreed.

  “We’re going solids,” the kid yelled out. Graham squeezed Rennie’s hand in elation. She was going to shoot first, and if all went well, they’d finish with Graham sinking the eight ball. The first guy missed, and Rennie stepped up to the table. Somewhere behind her, someone catcalled. She tossed her hand into the air and flipped off whoever thought being rude was okay.

  Rennie bent slightly to check the angles before she set her stick down on her hand. She moved the cue back and forth, slow and steady, until she was confident in her decision-making. The two balls touched, and her striped ball headed straight for the pocket. One down. She moved to the next and then the next, and so on. Each time Graham was by her side, working through moves with her. Their last shot was difficult, as they had suspected, and she did her best to block the other team.

  The college guys were straight-up players. They weren’t hustlers like Graham and Rennie, and when they took their shot, they slammed the cue ball into the pile to break it up. These men had no strategy whatsoever. It was Graham’s turn, and Rennie coached him. They were a team. They were determined to win. He took his shot, sinking their last playable ball, leaving only the eight. He wouldn’t fail; unlike their first game, they wanted to win and run the table. With no hesitation in his stroke, he sank the black ball and turned in time to catch Rennie when she jumped into his arms. She went to kiss him, almost as if doing so should be a natural reaction for them, but he dodged her lips, and she was only able to brush his cheek.

  Graham stepped away and went to the end of the pool table. He pulled out the rack and started placing the balls in order, and Rennie went to the other end to prepare to break. She sized up their opponents. Another couple, which didn’t matter, because Rennie and Graham were going to take care of them easily. They did, along with the couple after them, the college boys again, and so on. For the rest of the night, the friends visiting from Cape Harbor ran the pool table at the bar in Friday Harbor.

  They had either lost count of how many pitchers they’d drunk or the empty ones on their table weren’t theirs, and at some point during the evening, they stopped ordering food. Rennie and Graham were having fun. They were laughing, flirting, and being very handsy with each other—and probably a little inappropriate. Neither of them seemed to care, and they really didn’t care what others around them thought.

  After they won their last game, Graham asked if Rennie was ready to go. It was eleven thirty, the bar had become packed, and honestly, she wanted to go back to the boat. They bid farewell to their new friends and made their way to the exit. When they finally stepped outside, Graham scooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the marina.

  “I can walk.”

  “Why walk when I can carry you?” Rennie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. She imagined what life would be like with Graham if they were ever to give in and try being more than friends. They could do the long-distance-relationship thing flawlessly. She’d rather be in Cape Harbor most of the time anyway, and she figured she could work Fridays and Mondays from his home and be in the office three days a week unless she had a court case. No one would be surprised if they started dating either. Their relationship would be natural and long overdue.

  Graham carried her onto the boat and set her down when he had to unlock the sliding door. “I have something I want to show you. Wait here.” He disappeared down the steps, and when he came back, he handed her a pair of socks and told her to put them on. He also had a blanket draped over his arm. Graham grabbed two cups and the bottle of champagne from the now-melted ice in the sink. “Follow me.”

  She did, and he led them out to the bow of the boat. The same spot where she had finally let all her emotions out. “What are we doing out here?”

  “Earlier, I saw all these boats docking, and I thought it was a bit strange until I heard one of the guys at the bar talking. Out there in the darkness is a barge, and at midnight they’re letting off fireworks. I thought this would be a better way of ringing in the New Year, instead of counting down with a bunch of people we don’t know.”

  Her smile was slow to appear, but that was because she was finding it hard not to jump into his arms. She loved fireworks, and he had remembered. “This is perfect.”

  Graham handed her the cups to hold while he worked the cork off the champagne bottle. Rennie stood back, out of what could be the path of a flying cork.

  “I probably should’ve thought this through a bit more. I don’t want the cork to go into the water.”

  Rennie looked around and saw the blanket Graham had brought out. Worst-case scenario, she would wash it when they arrived back at Cape Harbor. She folded it twice and then held it in front of Graham. “I’ll catch it.” The idea wasn’t perfect, but it would work. Besides, she wanted to spend the night with Graham, and if there was one less blanket on the boat, maybe they’d share a bed.

  The cork flew into the blanket, but so did some of t
he champagne. Neither of them seemed to care. Rennie set everything down and picked up their cups. She held them while Graham poured.

  He set the bottle down and took his cup from her. “Happy New Year, Rennie.”

  “Happy New Year, Graham Cracker.”

  The loud boom of the first firework startled Rennie. She stood in front of Graham and leaned against his chest. They oohed and aahed, right along with the other people watching from their boats. At some point, Graham had finished his champagne and wrapped his arms around her. She enjoyed the height difference between them. The big-fish-to-little-fish comparison she used to make back in the day.

  When the finale lit up the night sky, her heart raced. Rennie was exactly where she wanted to be and had no regrets about what she was about to do. She turned in Graham’s arms and gazed into his eyes. She rose onto her tippy-toes to kiss Graham, finally succeeding in pressing her lips to his. She felt his fingers tug lightly at her chin, and she opened for him. It had been years since they kissed, yet it felt like only yesterday they had shared an embrace. Their kiss was anything but chaste as he slid his tongue into her mouth, and his arm tightened around her body. Every part of her zinged with excitement and anticipation. Rennie wanted him. She wanted them together, as they had been in the past. He was familiar. He was home to her.

  All around them people celebrated. They cheered loudly and yelled well-wishes from boat to boat, and someone had started another round of fireworks. None of that mattered. Rennie focused solely on Graham.

  “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked her.

  She nodded and thought about adding something snarky to his sentence but held back. Rennie needed Graham to know she was serious. About him and about them. They left the bottle of champagne, their glasses, and the blanket outside and walked together back into the cabin. Neither of them bothered to close the blinds, but Graham did lock the door. Rennie made her way downstairs to her room and waited for Graham.

  Nerves like she hadn’t experienced in ages came rushing forward. Her heart pounded wildly, her palms sweat, and her knees wobbled. She felt like she was a teenager all over again. Rennie saw Graham’s shadow before he appeared in the doorway, illuminated by the outside lights casting a glow into the room. She stood there with her red dress on and socks on her feet. She laughed at herself.

  Graham came into the room and shut the door behind him. He faced her and slowly pushed each button of his shirt through its hole. Inch by inch, the shirt fell away, exposing his toned chest and snippets of his tattoo.

  Her mouth watered in anticipation of what was to come. As he approached her, his hand pulled at his belt. “Do you want this, Rennie?” he asked. “Because if we do this, I don’t want to stop. Not ever.”

  Rennie stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest. His flesh was on fire, and she could only imagine it was because he felt the same way. She pushed her hands over his shoulders, taking his shirt with her as her hands trailed down his arms. She worked the buttons at his wrist, and finally the shirt fell to the floor.

  She stood in front of him, her fingers caressing his face. “I’ve wanted this since I walked into the Whale Spout over the summer. I should’ve never let Brooklyn dictate my life in this way, and I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving up on us all those years ago. As soon as I moved back to Seattle, I should’ve come to see you. We’ve missed so much time.” Rennie was on the cusp of telling him she loved him, but now was not the time. She had a lot to prove to him. She knew he had reservations about her ex.

  Graham closed the distance between them and crushed his lips to hers. His hands bunched her dress into his fist. She lifted her arms, and he pulled her dress away from her body. With deft fingers, he removed her bra next.

  Rennie stepped back and stood in front of Graham with only her panties and those ridiculous socks on. She brought each foot up and took each sock off and stepped out of her underwear.

  “I liked those,” he quipped. Graham swallowed hard but made no move to take off his jeans.

  Fear and doubt coursed through her. “Do you not want me?”

  “I do. I’m pinching myself to make sure this is all real.”

  “It’s very real, Graham.”

  With much haste, he freed himself from the rest of his clothes and moved lightning fast toward Rennie. She squealed when he picked her up. His lips were upon hers again, but this time there was an urgency, a need. Graham set her down on the bed. He followed and blazed a trail of kisses down her throat and neck and to her chest.

  His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist, and her hips while his mouth moved over her heated flesh. It had been years since she’d been aroused this way, needy of a man’s attention. One simple touch, and she was ready for him. Her body responded to Graham. It was like her body hadn’t forgotten what they used to share and rejoiced when their flesh met.

  She matched his necessity with her own lusty, unsated needs. Her hands roamed over the planes of his stomach, his back, and to his rear, where she gripped him hard, pushing him to where she desired him the most.

  Graham lowered his body over hers and peered into her eyes. He didn’t need words to tell her what he thought. She already knew, and she wanted the same from him.

  Forever.

  She welcomed him into her body, arching off the bed and into his embrace. They made love, different from what they had done in the past, and it meant something to them, a turning point in their lives. There was no turning back now. She could feel it. They were different.

  They were a tangled mess when the sun rose, both lying on their sides, looking at each other. Her body happily ached, and her lips were raw from being kissed all night. They barely spoke throughout the night, and when they did, it was words of pleasure, voiced needs, and wants. Rennie’s fingers brushed through Graham’s hair while his inched along her side, tickling her skin. They had made love a couple of times and only left his bedroom to get sustenance, neither willing to be away from the other for very long.

  Now, the sun had risen, and the water was a bit choppier than it had been. The ferry was active, transporting people from the island to the mainland for their last day of freedom before returning to the workforce. She would have to go back to Seattle—Graham, back to the bar. Their days of being hidden had come to an end.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Graham returned from vacation with more pep in his step and a plastered smile on his face, and he walked along to whatever song he played in his head. He didn’t even care that he had a list of things to contend with from Krista and that it would take him days to go over the inventory and get everything restocked, because he was happy.

  When they returned from Friday Harbor in the afternoon of New Year’s Day, Graham expected everything to go back to the way things were or revert to their long-ago status of friends with benefits. Much to his surprise, when Graham went to kiss Rennie, she kissed him back, and they made love again in his room before both fell under a heavy sleep.

  When they woke, Rennie took Graham up on his offer and borrowed his phone. She went out to the patio to call Brooklyn, and when they were done talking, Rennie came in and told Graham that Bowie needed to speak with him.

  Graham and Bowie laughed at how ridiculous the women were being. Secretly, Graham loved it. He was the reason for the smile on Rennie’s face. After he hung up with Bowie, he called his parents. His mother was getting ready to meet her friends for a game of bridge, and his father was down at the Loyal Order of the Sasquatch with his friends. Graham hesitated for a moment before asking about Grady.

  “How’s Grady, Mom?”

  “Oh, I think he’s doing wonderfully well. He calls when he’s allowed, and the other night we spoke while I watched one of my game shows. Grady even participated,” she told him. Relief washed over Graham.

  After they had both made their calls, they snuggled on Graham’s small couch, watched television, and made love in the shower. A place Graham thought
would never be possible, and he found it to be the most intense moment of his life. They spent the entire day wrapped up in each other. When the sun rose, reminding them of the outside world, he drove her over to Brooklyn’s to get her car. It was there they said their goodbyes. She went inside, and he went off to work.

  He thumbed through the notes Krista had left him. One employee didn’t show up to work, a couple people came in looking for Grady, there was a list of liquors they were out of or low on and kegs to order, and Don and Mark had left a list of foods needed for the kitchen.

  Graham held on to his notes and went into the bar. He turned on all the lights, flipped the open sign to on, and unlocked the door. It was early, and the likelihood that anyone would actually come in was slim. He got to work, first by placing the orders he needed. He would do inventory later and place another order if needed. It would be a matter of weeks before business started picking up again to the point where they were slammed at night and had a nice rush during lunch. Once the gloom of winter passed, the tourists would be out in full force.

  The door opened as Graham walked back into the bar with a fresh stack of cleaning cloths. The old-timers were coming in, gabbing about who knew what. Graham stepped behind the bar and retrieved three pint glasses. He pulled the tap for Rainer. It was their favorite, and they were the only reason Graham kept it on tap. It used to be brewed in Seattle until the company sold and ended up in the hands of Pabst Brewing. Graham was surprised they kept the beer in manufacturing. He actually appreciated it because it kept the old men in town very happy.

  “Morning, guys.”

  They gruffly said hello and thanked him for their beer. He thought he was in the clear until R. J. Keel spoke up. R. J. was born and bred in Cape Harbor, a fifth-generation fisherman whose son and grandson now ran the Keel Fishing Company. “Heard you took the Holmes’s boat for a joyride.”

  “Wasn’t actually joyriding. It’s a bit chilly out there.”