Geoducks are for Lovers

by Prescott, Daisy

  She smiles back. “There better be cuddling. I fully expect cuddling. Thoughts on spoon size? Big or little?”

  “Oh, I get to be the big spoon. No doubt.” He gives her a playful, but wolfish grin.

  Gil climbs under the covers and turns toward her. “This isn’t awkward. See?”

  “Shh,” she hushes him. “Less talking or I’ll make you sleep on the couch.” She smiles and curls into his side

  “I won’t say another word.” He pulls her close, but doesn’t make a further move. “Goodnight.” He kisses the top of her head. “Oops.”

  Tilting her head up, she gives him a soft kiss on the lips.

  “Goodnight.” Snuggling into his side, she drifts off to sleep, feeling a long-forgotten sense of peace.

  He takes a few minutes longer to fall asleep, mulling over his impossible luck to be sharing a bed with Maggie again. He thinks about his wishing rock. Maybe those rocks are magical.

  Biscuit jumps back on the bed and curls up behind Maggie. He swears the dog winks at him.

  “Feels like home,” he whispers before closing his eyes.

  * * *

  Maggie stretches and feels a warm body against her back. An arm wraps around her middle and she freezes. Arm?

  Gil stirs and pulls himself closer to her.

  “Morning,” he whispers.

  It takes a minute for the events of last night to drop into place. She remembers the game of I Never and a few rounds of Jameson. Blurry images of falling asleep on the beach with Gil filter through her mind, followed by kissing, lots of kissing. She vaguely remembers something about locked doors and him sleeping in here with her rather than with Selah. Must have seemed like a good idea at the time.

  “Morning,” she says, turning her head to face him.

  Yep, Gil is snuggled in her bed. She kissed him last night. It wasn’t a dream. She smiles at the memory.

  As she’s fully waking up, a quick knock at the door and Quinn’s cheerful morning voice break the silence. Before she can tell him to go away or hold on a second, Quinn walks into the room holding two coffees.

  She’s impressed he doesn’t drop the cups when he realizes she and Gil are in bed together.

  “Well, well well, well,” Quinn tuts. “I should have brought another cup this morning.” He sets a mug down on the nightstand closest to Gil before joining them on the bed. Not awkward at all.

  “Morning, Q,” she greets him, tucking the sheet around her waist as she sits up.

  Gil is clearly less shy, and sits up bare-chested.

  “Do you ever wait for a ‘come in’ after you knock?” Gil asks, rubbing his hand through his hair and down his face. His scruff has grown in overnight, casting a dark shadow on his jaw.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Quinn hands Maggie the other mug of coffee. “Plus, why would I ever think Maggie would have company?”

  She gratefully accepts the mug, giving her hands something to do while she waits for Quinn’s inquisition. She isn’t ashamed Gil is in her bed, far from it. Quinn’s appearance has burst their bubble sooner than she hoped.

  “So?” Quinn asks, looking between them. “This is interesting.”

  “It isn’t what it looks like, Q.” She gestures between herself and Gil. “We fell asleep on the beach, and it was late. Then, Selah locked Gil out of their room.”

  “I see.” Quinn scratches Biscuit’s belly. “Just like old times when you two would have co-ed sleepovers and actually sleep?”

  “Exactly,” Gil agrees. “Nothing to see here. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.” He drinks Quinn’s coffee.

  Quinn pretends to lift up the sheet. “I’ll be the one to make that decision.”

  Gil bats his hand away.

  “Okay, boys. Behave,” Maggie scolds.

  “Behaving is so boring. I keep telling you this, Magpie, when are you going to listen to me?” Quinn lies along the bottom of the bed.

  “What time is it anyway?” Gil looks around for a clock. He stretches over her to glance at the alarm clock. “8:00? Ugh.” He falls back into the pillows.

  Maggie thinks she should be entirely uncomfortable with Gil in her bed and Quinn finding them entangled, but she isn’t. Instead, she feels happy and invigorated.

  Quinn takes his coffee back from Gil and sips it. “So, are you two going to go public with the rest of the house?”

  “There’s nothing to go public about.” Maggie stiffens. She can sense Gil’s eyes on her, so she turns to face him. “What? There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Okay,” Gil says and drinks her coffee.

  Quinn watches the unspoken exchange between the two of them. “More going on here than sharing a bed, but it’s clear Maggie doesn’t want to admit anything.”

  Maggie yawns and ignores him. “Jeezy-pete, so early. Why are you awake?

  “I’m excited to see a man about a clam this morning.” Quinn hands her his mug.

  “Ryan won’t be arriving on the island for a few more hours. And that’s if his plane isn’t delayed.” Maggie yawns again.

  “Sounds like someone didn’t get enough sleep.” Quinn gives her a pointed look.

  “Q, stop. Gil, tell him nothing happened.”

  “Q, nothing happened,” Gil says without conviction. “Not in bed anyway.”

  Quinn’s eyes sparkle. “I knew it!”

  “You know nothing. Hush.” Maggie laughs, finishing the mug of coffee. “Now if you two will excuse me, I’m going to take a hot shower and try to remind myself all the reasons I don’t drink whiskey until the wee hours any more.”

  She manages to untangle herself from the covers without flashing anyone. “There’s a key on the hooks by the front door for the all the room locks, Gil. Will one of you let Biscuit out for his morning constitutional? I’ll feed him when I get downstairs,” she says as she walks into the bathroom.

  Nineteen

  “Sounds like we’ve been dismissed from the queen’s chambers,” Quinn says.

  “Yeah, it does kind of feel that way.” Gil rubs his face.

  Maggie’s insistence that nothing happened last night confuses Gil. Does she not remember the kissing? Does she regret having him sleep in her bed? Or is history repeating itself?

  “Hey, I’m not going to pry… much, but whatever is going on with you two, give her some time. She’s got a hard, but thin, shell around her these days.”

  Gil looks at Quinn, seeing nothing but support in his eyes. “Thanks Q.”

  “I’ll let Biscuit out and get more coffee. You do your thing. I won’t say a word to anyone else.”

  “Thanks.”

  Gil waits for Quinn to leave, then gets dressed in his jeans from last night. After grabbing the key, he quietly walks down the hall to his room and unlocks the door. He smiles, thinking how Maggie could have easily unlocked the door last night. While Selah softly snores on her back, he grabs a change of clothes from his bag and heads to the hall bath.Gil takes a long shower. His head is cloudy with memories of the night before and the similarities to what happened in college. Maggie was open and willing to his advances last night, yet this morning, she denied everything. Just like before. Shaking off his bruised ego, he resolves he isn’t going to let Maggie go this time without some sort of declaration and fight, if needed.

  He isn’t a twenty-year-old boy anymore. At forty-two, he knows there aren’t many second chances in life and he decides he won’t give up on this one yet.

  * * *

  Maggie stands under the hot water replaying the events of last night and this morning in her head. Gil and she kissed. It was amazing. And this morning she denied him like Peter did Jesus.

  What is wrong with her?

  Gil is great, kissing him is great.

  She rests her head on the cool tiles. She has no idea what she’s doing with Gil or why she reacts to him the same way. Is it the memories of the past making her nostalgic? Or is there still a connecti
on with him now? He makes her laugh and smile, things she hasn’t done in ages. The easy comfort of old friends is one thing, the draw she feels to Gil is more.

  A thousand thoughts run through her head as she turns off the water and gets out. After dressing in a denim skirt and a plum tank top, she throws on her favorite gray wrap cardigan.

  Stepping into the hall, Maggie notices the door to Gil’s room is closed and hears someone in the guest shower. It must be him. She hurries downstairs, where she finds Q sitting at the counter with a fresh cup of coffee.

  She feeds the dog before filling her coffee cup.

  “Thanks for the wake-up cup,” she tells him.

  “Thanks for the show. I love a good surprise first thing in the morning.” He winks.

  “Morning surprises?” Jo asks, walking into the kitchen. She heads over to the coffee machine and pours herself a cup. “Do tell.”

  “Morning, Jo. No surprises. Q was teasing,” Maggie says, giving Quinn a look that asks him to keep quiet.

  Jo sips her coffee, glancing suspiciously between them. “So who’s up?”

  “You, me, Q, obviously. I heard the upstairs shower going, so I guess either Selah or Gil is awake,” Maggie lies.

  “Ben’s still sacked out. He never sleeps in this late. Then again he rarely stays up past ten either.”

  “So old and boring.” Quinn teases.

  “Yes, boring. Kids do that to you.”

  “So you like to tell me.” His voice holds an edge.

  Freshly showered, Gil walks into the kitchen. “Morning,” he greets everyone.

  “Coffee?” Maggie offers, dumping out the old grounds to make a fresh pot.

  “Sure,” he says, moving to stand close to her. “We haven’t finished what we started last night,” he whispers to her. “Don’t think you’re getting away so easily this time. We have another day and a half together. And I’m a man with a plan.”

  A shiver runs down Maggie’s back and she glances over her shoulder at him.

  His eyes twinkle and he gives her his charming smirk.

  She is speechless.

  * * *

  “Buy, buy, sell, sell.” Maggie jokes when Ben joins them at the table outside, his cell phone still permanently attached to his hand.

  “It’s Saturday, Ben. What work are you going to do on Saturday?” Quinn asks.

  “The five day week is a myth, Q. Working on Saturdays is the norm. At least in my world.” Ben starts typing away on his phone.

  “Why am I the last to wake up every day?” Selah asks, dressed in her red kimono again, as she walks outside with an empty coffee cup.

  “Because you’re lazy?” Quinn teases.

  “Maybe. Or I need the most beauty sleep.”

  “How did you sleep?” Maggie asks, filling Selah’s cup with coffee.

  “Fantastic. I expected Gil’s snoring to keep me up, but it didn’t. It was like sleeping with the dead.” Selah gives Gil a knowing look.

  “I don’t snore,” he defends.

  “Who wants granola, yogurt, and berries? I couldn’t face a big breakfast myself this morning, but there are eggs and other stuff in the fridge, if anyone needs something more hearty.” She picks up a bowl and gestures to the offerings with her spoon.

  Gil notes she quickly changed the subject away from his snoring last night.

  “I’m surprised I’m not more hungover.” Jo fills a bowl with berries and yogurt.

  “I’m surprised too. We put a serious dent in the whiskey supply last night,” Gil says.

  “We have plenty of wood leftover, thanks to John. We can go another round tonight if anyone is up for it.” Maggie suggests.

  “I’m up for another round,” Gil says with a wink. He observes Maggie fighting to suppress her smirk.

  “No more Quinn games.” Jo cringes. “I’m not sure I can handle more revelations from I Never.”

  “We haven’t even played my hut game.” Quinn pouts.

  “Maybe save the huts for the reunion.” Maggie pats his arm.

  “Good idea.” Quinn brightens.

  “What’s the plan for today, other than fetching Dr. Goodstuff from the ferry?” Selah asks.

  “I wasn’t sure what everyone wanted to do, so I haven’t made plans,” Maggie says.

  “I’d love to do nothing but bask in the sun,” Jo declares, stretching out her arms in the sunlight.

  “Depending on when Ryan catches the ferry, we can eat a late lunch in Langley, or drive up the island and go to the driftwood beach by Ft. Casey. Or even go over to Port Townsend for the day. Shop. Hang out at the Red Cat—up to you guys.”

  “So many suggestions, Magpie. We don’t have to do anything. No agendas.” Jo stretches her legs into the sun.

  “No more hiking.” Quinn moans. “All that fresh air and natural perfection can’t be good for the soul.”

  “You have some color on your cheeks. You look healthy, Q. Embrace the island.” Maggie taps his nose.

  “Embracing the island sounds like Lost. No thank you, smoke monster.” Quinn swats her hand away.

  Gil watches the easy exchange between Maggie and Quinn. He wants that lighthearted, effortless banter with Maggie. He realizes he wants it all with her, not the girl from his memory. This Maggie, who still has the same constellation of freckles on her nose as she did at nineteen, is amazing in the way she cares for and loves the people in her life, including him.

  “Whidbey is kind of like that island. You get here and never want to leave. Well, some people don’t.” Maggie gazes out at the retreating tide and the wet sand sparkling in the sun. “We can poke around here if you want. No pressure.”

  “Hanging out would be completely fine with me,” Gil says casually.

  “Maybe John will be around and he’ll schlepp some wood, without a shirt or something,” Selah says, looking over her shoulder at John’s house.

  “You should ask him to pose for one of your covers,” Jo suggests.

  “That’s a great idea. He’d make the perfect pirate. I wonder what his thoughts are about guy-liner.” Selah thinks aloud.

  “He just pulled up in his truck, so you here’s your chance.” Quinn points to the road where John and Babe are getting out of the cab of his Ford truck. He wears a plaid shirt and dark wash jeans over worn work boots.

  “Does he always wear plaid?” Jo asks.

  “Pretty much,” Maggie answers. “That’s where the lumberjack name comes from.”

  Gil watches all three women silently turn and watch John walk up the lawn between the two houses.

  “Morning,” John calls over. He changes direction to join them.

  “Morning, John,” Selah practically purrs.

  “Putting it on a little thick, Elmore?” Gil grumbles.

  “Never.” She tightens the belt on her kimono and runs her fingers through her hair.

  Maggie laughs at her.

  “Cup of coffee, John?” Maggie holds up the carafe.

  “Sure. Never going to say no to your coffee.” John walks up the stairs, and joins them on the deck.

  “I think you’ve met everyone here,” Maggie says as she pours a cup of coffee for him.

  “Yep. You all enjoying the island? You even get sun for the weekend. Don’t tell anyone it didn’t rain the entire time. We have a reputation to protect.” He winks at Selah.

  “Oh, I bet you have a reputation.” She flirts back.

  Gil and Maggie roll their eyes at her obviousness.

  “What’s on the agenda for today? Sightseeing?” John asks.

  “Nah, I think we’re going to hang around the beach and be lazy. Late night.”

  “Yeah, I saw the fire going pretty late. Almost came over, but didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “You wouldn’t have been interrupting,” Selah says. “In fact, we’re thinking of having another fire tonight. You should join us.”

  “Sure. That’d be cool. You have e
nough wood?” John looks at Maggie.

  “Plenty of firewood. Not sure what the plan is, but if the fire is going, come on down.”

  Gil observes their silent exchange. While he’s jealous of the lumberjack’s desirable location, he realizes Maggie isn’t flirting with the guy. He smiles at the thought he might be the reason why.

  “Crabs okay last night?” John asks the group.

  “They were amazing—so juicy and sweet,” Selah answers, the purring comes back.

  “Well, let me know if you need any salmon to grill tonight. I put the rest of that King in the freezer. Might go out later this evening.” He squints out at the water, as if he is visualizing the salmon beneath the surface.

  “You really are a man of the earth, aren’t you?” Selah asks.

  “I suppose. I do all right.” He gives Selah his devastating, flirty smile. “I have to get some stuff done today since I’m heading off island all week. I’ll stop by later if I’m around. Have a good time whatever you do.” He puts his cup on the table, and heads over to his house.

  “Oh, we will,” Selah calls after him. Once he is gone she flops back in her seat. “I need to switch genres and write some lumberjack erotica. I’m thinking an entire series set in Alaska or British Columbia.” She fans herself with her hands.

  “You are too much. You put Quinn to shame with your flirting,” Jo scolds.

  “That is really saying something!” Quinn puffs out his chest in pride. His phone chirps with a text.

  “The doctor has landed and is heading north. T minus 1 hour until he gets here.”

  “I’ll help clear the dishes,” Gil offers.

  “You know what your dish washing does to me.” Maggie sighs.

  “I do.” He smirks at her before walking into the house with the breakfast dishes.

  Maggie feels her cheeks heat.

  “A man willing to do the dishes is a good man to keep around,” Jo says. “I can’t remember the last time Ben did the dishes.”

  “It’s the little things, isn’t it?” Maggie says. “When we are younger we want the grand gestures—the roses, the candlelight. Now it’s a man who does the dishes.”