by Cindi Madsen
Before she could figure out which expression could wordlessly convey all that, Vanessa clamped onto her wrist. Next thing she knew, she was being propelled into the boutique.
“Did you find some steals and deals, then?” Josh jerked his chin at the bag hanging from Danae’s bent elbow.
“I was told so, anyway. I was also told the clothes looked good on me, so…” Danae shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.”
“I said amazing.” Vanessa peered at Danae over the top of her sunglasses, the four overflowing bags she was carrying crinkling together. “If you’re gonna quote me, darling, quote me correctly.” The two women shared a smile, and then Vanessa turned her grin on him. “I’m sure Josh would agree if he’d been there.”
Josh had a feeling Danae didn’t want her coworkers to know anything had happened between them, so he dodged. “Need me to take your bags, ladies?”
“You can save the chivalry for Danae. I’m reluctant to let go of my bags. Not that I don’t trust you. It’s just a lot to keep track of.” Vanessa checked the time. “We have seven more minutes. I’m going to peek at that shop across the way really quick.”
Josh watched her dart across the street in case he needed to block cars, but she wove in and out like a New Yorker. Once she’d disappeared into the colorful old building, he turned to Danae. “Funny how she told me she trusted me, but not to keep track of a lot of bags.”
A laugh spilled out of Danae, the sound soothing to his soul. He relieved her of her bag and offered his elbow. “Shall we stroll for seven minutes?”
She glanced around, confirming his theory about wanting to keep things on the down low, before hooking her hand in the crook of his arm. “Gotta burn off all the delicious food I’ve been eating somehow.”
A couple of blocks down, they stumbled across a shop called Mad as a Hatter. “Ooh, this place seems promising,” Danae said, squinting through the giant display window. There was an old bike, a chain curtain, and several logs. Each of those strange items had hats propped on or around them.
“You go ahead and I’ll—”
Danae grabbed onto his wrist and tugged him toward the red door. “That’s not how hat shops work.”
As soon as they stepped inside, she scanned the shelves. She snagged a white fedora and plunked it on her head. “Thoughts?”
He tapped the brim. “I think Vanessa was right about you looking amazing.”
Her resulting grin sent a jolt down his spine. She hummed to herself as she continued to browse, and he followed after her like a smitten puppy.
“Ooh, I found the perfect one for you. Close your eyes.” Using her body, she blocked the row of hats she’d been studying. When he didn’t do as instructed, she lifted her hand in front of his face to block his view. “Seriously, Josh. You’re gonna ruin the surprise.”
Seriously, he didn’t think he could get enough of hearing her say his name. Since he also was a fan of keeping her happy, he let his eyelids drift shut.
A moment later, he caught a whiff of her familiar perfume, and he cracked open an eye to see she’d stood on tiptoe to put a hat on his head. Flashes of light bounced off the wall and danced across Danae’s skin. Judging from the fractured rainbows, whatever ridiculous hat she’d placed on his head resembled a disco ball.
“It’s very Wild West hero.” Danae nudged him toward the circular mirror on the wall.
Whoa. Silver sequins adorned the pink cowgirl hat. He gripped the brim and tipped it at her. “Hello, ma’am. A close friend recommended this hat, and if you run away screaming right now, I’ll have to jump to the conclusion that she has questionable taste.”
Danae giggled.
Josh draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her to his side so they could peer in the mirror. They grinned at their reflections and then at each other.
“While I’m man enough to rock sequins, this hat matches the dress you wore last night, so…” Josh snagged the fedora and switched their headwear so that she was the one sporting the pink atrocity.
She wrinkled her nose and then plucked a black fedora off a faceless mannequin. Instead of putting it on herself, she swapped it with the white hat atop his head. She studied him for a beat before giving him one sharp nod. “Better.”
While it wasn’t as goofy-looking as he’d assumed it would be, it was far from his style. “I think I’m more of a baseball cap guy.”
Danae returned the fedoras to where she’d found them and they circled the store, trying one hat after another. She found a straw garden hat in the clearance bin with the widest brim he’d ever seen. Seconds after she tried it on, the brim flopped over, covering half her face.
Josh stepped closer and lifted it so he could see those big hazel eyes. She stuck her tongue out to the side, pulling a wacky face, and he’d honestly never had so much fun shopping for anything before.
Suddenly she patted her pockets. The enormous brim flopped down again as she pulled out her phone, and she batted at the floppy fabric as she read whatever was on the screen. “That’s my timer. Our seven minutes are up.”
On the way out, she ran her fingers along the sequined cowgirl hat. “Are you sure you don’t need this in your life? I don’t want to be sailing away, only for you to be full of regret.”
“I’m sure.” The charming woman who’d placed it on his head, on the other hand…Well, he was glad he’d taken a risk last night, because missing out on this was definitely something he would have regretted.
Chapter Twenty
After their late lunch, the group decided to pass the time until their candy-making lesson in the old map store next door.
“Anyone find Newport yet?” Danae asked as she continued to shuffle through the bins. In theory, they were alphabetized. In reality, she’d found Boston in the Ns. She glanced across the aisle at Josh, who was studying an old globe.
She mentally reviewed the fun they’d had that day, from whale-sighting to shopping and messing around in the hat store, her grin so wide her cheeks hurt. What if she’d finally found someone she could build a future with? Didn’t she owe it to herself to at least see?
These days, women could supposedly have it all—it simply required balance. First and foremost, she’d ensure that her team was on track and her own work was getting done. At night during their free time, however, she could spend time getting to know Josh better.
Satisfied she’d found an acceptable solution for the predicament that had consumed her thoughts, she rounded the bins and headed over to the globe. Right as she was about to ask Josh where he’d visit if he could go anywhere, Mark stepped through the doorway to one of the side rooms.
“I found a giant map of Newport from 1910.” Mark waved everyone inside, and they crowded around the table in the center of the room.
Mark carefully unfurled a rolled map on the nicked wooden surface of the table, unleashing a puff of stale, slightly dusty air. The faded colors and frayed edges reminded Danae of the old star charts Dad used to keep in his ship. “It’ll be interesting to see how much Newport’s changed in the last century.”
Newspaper print and pastel colors emphasized the old-timey appearance, and the mapmaker had gone above and beyond on the title. They’d used different fonts for Newport, Rhode Island, and the title, which made it harder to read but looked cool.
It took Danae a handful of seconds to find enough familiar streets to get her bearings. Once she’d done so, the entire city took shape. “Check it out! There’s my house. Back when she was just a young house, making her way in the big world.”
“Okay, weirdo,” Franco said, and when she turned to him, he added, “I mean that as a compliment. Weirdos are my favorite.”
“Thank you?” she said with a laugh, and the others cracked up as well. “Okay, what about everyone else? Can you find your houses? Or at least where they’d be on the map?”
One by one, e
very member of her team pointed at the color-coded sections of Newport. Besides her cottage, the only building they found that had been there as long was Franco’s parents’ house. The condos Mark lived in were only a handful of years old, and Paige’s and Vanessa’s places were in the thirty to forty age range.
The novelty of finding their houses—or where they’d be on the older map—wore off, and her team roamed around the other areas of the room.
Danae glanced at Josh, who had hung back as they’d pointed out their neighborhoods. Wanting to include him, she asked, “What about you?”
His brow furrowed, and something about the way he studied her generated a healthy dose of trepidation. “I live on my boat.”
“Full time? Like, even in the winter?” How had they not covered this already? He’d talked about his boat and how hard he’d worked to restore it, sure. Come to think of it, he’d also mentioned his lawn was water.
“Yes, full time.”
Plenty of people kept boats at the marina without living there, so for some reason, it just hadn’t clicked. Although now she was kicking herself for not putting it together sooner, as well as causing the awkwardness crowding the air.
“Oh. I didn’t realize, but that totally makes sense.” She rubbed at her neck. “Soooo, where do you think you’ll buy a house once you decide to settle down again? Is there a certain area that calls to you?”
The creases in his forehead deepened, and a muscle in his jaw flexed. “I don’t plan on doing that ever again.”
Now she was the one scrunching up her forehead. “Which part? Buying a house? Or settling down?”
“Both. Neither.” He tapped the marina, the motion resolute. “That’s where Solitude is, and that’s where I plan on spending the rest of my days.”
“But…” Words weren’t coming out right, and plans that had been part daydream and an abundance of optimism began to crumble, like several of the cliffside hills they’d seen on this trip. Once one rock took a tumble, others followed, until what had once been a giant wall of stone became debris.
“I’m happy with what I have,” Josh said. “My lifestyle suits my needs. I work when and where I want. I don’t intend to dive back into the rat race and spend all my hours in some cubicle, just so I can buy a giant house I never get to spend any time at.”
Tension gridlocked the space between them, making it impossible to move forward or backward, and she wished she could undo the last two minutes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m surprised, is all.”
How could he plan on living alone on his sailboat for the rest of his days? Did he really mean what he said about never settling down? If so, there was no point in trying to see where this thing forming between them led. Not when he’d just made it clear it would go nowhere.
“Away from the marina, I get that a lot.” Josh leaned his palms on the table, his gaze on the map instead of her. “After seeing what it’s like to be on the open ocean, I guess I’m surprised, too. It might not be for everyone, but I’m happy with my life. End of story.”
Silence fell. The air, which earlier had felt so full of history she’d wanted to soak in it, now felt thick and stale, like it could suffocate her.
It wasn’t just the history from the maps in the shop, but also her past and Josh’s. She needed stable and reliable. As unfair as it was, she was also reaching the age when she had to settle down and start a family if she wanted one, and she did. Always had.
“Check it out,” Vanessa said, her loud voice slicing through the quiet. She’d roamed to the far side of the alcove and was pointing at one of the framed images on the wall. “It’s a super old map of Cape Cod, but it tells you where to find food. But in the olden times, so it’s like hunt for a deer here. Try the apple trees down there.”
At the sound of Josh’s retreating footsteps, every ounce of oxygen drained from Danae’s lungs, along with the happiness that’d pumped through her mere minutes ago.
The phrase “Like a kid in a candy shop” would usually apply to Josh, but it was hard to feel excited, even surrounded by colorful candy in flavors of every kind.
In spite of all the signs that Danae favored a more conventional lifestyle, he’d still been caught off-guard when she’d made it clear that living on a boat full time wasn’t something she considered acceptable.
It scraped a raw nerve, one that had never healed after his divorce. It had also stung his pride to learn that she disapproved of his freewheeling lifestyle—one that would never be enough for her.
“The nice thing about taffy is that you can make it in so many flavors,” the woman who owned the candy shop said as she guided their group into the kitchen area. “Along this wall are all the flavorings. Go ahead and pick your favorite and we’ll get started.”
Josh had considered sitting out this lesson so he could take a long walk and sort through his thoughts. Upon voicing that desire, Danae had objected with, “But I made the appointment for six people.”
It only provided further proof that she couldn’t let go of controlling every situation—and that it would always clash with his desire to go with the flow—but the anxiety in her features made it impossible to storm away.
Because, dang it, he still cared. Enough that he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“They don’t have pickle flavoring,” Danae said. “I looked.”
He snapped his fingers, added a “shucks,” and moved around her. If he talked to her, he’d up and forget that she considered his lifestyle lesser than, and he wasn’t going through that again. It was best to just power through this session and the rest of the day.
He picked up banana cream pie flavoring and returned to the large cooling table. Cold water ran underneath the metal. That way, the shop owner explained, the temperature of the boiling taffy mixture would drop fast enough so they could pull it before it set.
At the last second, Danae switched places with Franco so that she was next to Josh instead. “What flavor did you end up getting?” she asked.
He held it up, and she squinted at the bottle.
Then she lifted a tiny vial. “Orange Creamsicle. I haven’t had anything in this flavor in a long time, and it was my dad’s favorite. It’s like sailing stirred up all these memories I always felt like I needed to repress, and now I’m trying to embrace them.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
Her exhale made it clear she was frustrated, but he was, too. Plus, not everything could be fixed with small talk. He was starting to wonder if they weren’t just destined to clash. Not that he held her desires against her. She wanted what most women did: security, stability, and a fancy house with all the amenities that kept a person tied to it; a nice wardrobe with plenty of pieces; and reliable WiFi.
The woman from the candy shop tipped the heated pot and used a rubber spatula to spread the mixture across the cooling table. Using a cutting tool, she divided it in six segments. “Okay, put in three drops of flavoring, and then you’ll knead it. For a big batch, we use Rosie over there, which is our taffy-pulling machine.”
She gestured to a large red machine with two arms and four metal spires. One of the other workers was using it, and it was mesmerizing to watch it swirl and twist. “But for these smaller batches, and so you get the authentic candy-making experience, let’s get pulling.”
They did as instructed, each holding their sugary blob high and letting it fall downward. Once it nearly hit the table, they folded it in half and did it again.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mark said, and his chunk of—dough?—hit the floor. “Oops. I’m afraid mine is going to have a hint of dirt flavor. Please tell me that pairs nicely with s’mores flavoring.”
The entire group chuckled, save Josh. He was grumpy, and Danae had laughed. Why did he care, since he’d concluded he and Danae were incompatible, anyway?
“I’m sorry, I can’t let
you eat that,” the woman said.
“Oh, I was just kiddi—”
The shop owner took the blob from Mark and tossed it in a large trash bin, and the guy looked so embarrassed that now Josh felt bad for him.
Never before had he felt so temperamental, and it really needed to stop.
“Here.” Danae split her blob in half and handed it to Mark. “It’s too big for me to manage anyway.”
“Thank you,” Mark said. “I swear I won’t let this one touch the floor.”
The candy shop owner paced behind them, giving them tips and tricks and occasionally correcting their methods. Gradually, the gooey mixture hardened to the point that Josh’s arms burned with the pulling movements.
After they rolled the setting mixture into thin ropes, the woman came through and divided each into bite-sized pieces. She handed out wrappers and told them they were free to taste their creations and wrap any leftovers. “Then, since Amy is almost done with her large batch, we’ll show you how it works when we feed it into Harriet, our wrapping machine.”
“Oh wow. This is just like the kind my dad bought.” Danae extended a large piece from her batch toward Josh. “Do you want to try it?”
The hope in her question made it impossible to say no. As he was chewing the piece of creamsicle taffy, Danae glanced around. Then she backed him into the corner of the kitchen, next to the sink. “Okay, so I wanted you to try it, but I also wanted to tell you something, and this way I can get it all out while you chew.”
He tried to mutter a retort, but thanks to her honed planning skills, she was right. Talking around the sticky candy wasn’t exactly easy.
“I’m sorry about the house comment. I didn’t mean to offend you. I honestly admire that you took an old boat and fixed it up, and that you enjoy being on your boat enough to live on it. I don’t want you to be upset with me for the rest of our trip.”
