by Duncan, MJ
“Yeah, I couldn’t do living in a big city like that.” Grey shook her head. “I need space.”
Lauren tipped her head at their surroundings and hummed softly under her breath. “Well, you’ve got plenty of that here.”
Grey nodded and sipped at her coffee. “Yeah.”
They watched the sun inch incrementally higher in a relaxed silence that was reminiscent of the one that had surrounded them the night before, each of them comfortable to simply enjoy the moment. It was a gift, Grey knew, to find somebody who knew how to let go and just exist in the moment without having to fill the air with meaningless words. Kip could do it for a short amount of time, but Grey always knew that her friend was struggling to keep quiet. In fact, besides her father, and now Lauren, she had only ever found one person who would just sit with her like this and not say a word.
Sitting up on the bridge watching the sunrise while nursing her first cup of coffee on the day had been part of her daily routine with Emily, and she was surprised to find that she did not resent Lauren for reminding her. She had spent the last few years remembering the happier times they had shared, the big moments that marked their years together, but she had forgotten about this. Had forgotten about how they would just sit up here and watch the sunrise. It was one of the little things that seemed insignificant, a simple routine that did not mean much in the grand scheme of things—but looking back on it now, Grey realized that it was the little things that meant the most.
She swallowed around a lump in her throat and shook her head. How could I have forgotten about this?
Lauren had no idea what made her turn to look at Grey, but the absolutely shattered look in the brunette’s eyes rocked her to her core. “Grey?”
“I’m fine,” Grey murmured, closing her eyes and scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’m fine.”
Grey was obviously anything but fine, but Lauren accepted the lie at face value, not wanting to push. “Right, well…I’m getting hungry. You wanna help me go make some waffles?” she asked, offering Grey both a distraction and an opportunity to be alone, depending on what she needed.
Having something else to focus on sounded like a godsend, and Grey drew a shaky breath as she ran a hand through her hair. “Making waffles sounds great.”
“Good.” Lauren nodded and pushed herself to her feet. “You can be my sous chef.”
Grey smiled in spite of the pain that was radiating through her chest. “Oh, I can, can I?”
“Absolutely.” Lauren winked at Grey. “Besides, everybody who loves waffles needs to know how to make these. They’re orgasmic.”
“Orgasmic, huh?” Grey absently pressed her free hand to her chest, trying to ease the feeling of aching loss that threatened to cripple her.
Lauren nodded. “Bet your ass.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” Grey pointed out as she dropped her hand to her side.
“Well, yeah,” Lauren scoffed as she turned and headed down the stairs. “I mean, I am pretty awesome.”
Grey shook her head and followed Lauren into the galley, and she smiled when the redhead threw an apron at her. “You’re seriously going to make me cook?”
“I am.” Lauren arched a brow challengingly at Grey.
Grey slipped the apron over her head and tying the strings around her waist and gave Lauren a disbelieving look. “I could have sworn that I was paying you to cook the food.”
Lauren pulled a large glass mixing bowl full of batter from the fridge and set it down beside the waffle machine. “Come on. Orgasmic waffles do not cook themselves.”
“What does orgasmic mean?” a little voice piped up, making both Grey and Lauren jump.
Reid wiggled himself up onto one of the barstools and looked at the two women expectantly.
“It, um…” Grey muttered, shooting Lauren a desperate look begging for help.
“It means really good,” Lauren explained, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “But, you should probably just say ‘really good’.”
“Okay.” Reid folded his arms on the counter and looked interestedly at the waffle machine. “Can I have a really good waffle?”
“Absolutely, buddy.” Grey smiled and plugged in the waffle machine. She turned to look at Lauren, whose shoulders were trembling with silent laughter, and shook her head as she muttered, “Way to teach the kid new vocabulary words, Murphy.”
Lauren finally lost it at that, and started laughing as she grabbed the squeeze bottle full of the melted butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon mixture she would use for the cinnamon roll swirls and set it by the batter. “I know!” she hissed, glancing sideways at Grey. She laughed harder at the playful smirk Grey was giving her and shook her head. “Just…get ready to make some really good waffles, Wells.”
“Right, because I’m paying you to put me to work,” Grey said, nodding sagely.
Lauren grinned and slapped a ladle into Grey’s hand. “Exactly. Now, check the waffle machine and see if it’s hot enough to start cooking.”
Chapter 10
Grey leaned back in her chair at the helm and rested the balls of her feet on the bottom of the wheel to keep the Veritas sailing in a straight line toward Sandy Spit as she pulled a wrinkled photograph from her pocket. The edges were worn and creases cut unforgivingly through the image, remnants of the time when she could not go anywhere without the picture of the two of them together because it had been her heart until hers began actually beating again.
“God, I miss you, Em,” she murmured, her voice low and rough as she touched Emily’s smiling lips with her finger.
She glanced up toward the bow. The water ahead was smooth and free of traffic, and she took advantage of the calm to lose herself in her memories of Emily. Of their first kiss, stolen behind a potted palm at Kip’s birthday party. Of the way Emily would sing in the shower, loud and carefree despite the fact that she was, quite possibly, the most tone-deaf person on the planet. The way Emily would smile at her, soft, open, and awed, and the way that smile made her fall in love with her all over again every time she saw it.
Her gaze landed on the ring on Emily’s left hand, and tears sprung to her eyes as she remembered the night she had proposed. Anchored in an otherwise deserted bay on Cooper Island, she had made her best attempt at a fancy dinner—though only the grilled shrimp had ended up edible—and even now her heart pounded with the memory of how nervous she had been when she took Emily’s left hand into hers and got down on one knee. She dearly wished she could remember what she had said to actually propose, but she would never forget the smile that lit Emily’s face when she had said yes. Neither of them had any idea how hard the next few months would be, and Grey was glad that they at least had those few stolen moments of happiness. That they got those few weeks to bask in the idea of a happily ever after before Fate gleefully ripped it from their grasps.
Grey was so wrapped up in her memories that she was aware of nothing but the feeling of the boat’s rudders tugging against the wheel beneath her feet. Her eyes would glance up toward the water in front of them every now and again out of habit, but she was not really seeing it. All she could see was Emily.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not hear Lauren calling for her, and she jumped at the feeling of a gentle hand on her shoulder and automatically tried to hide the picture in her hand, flipping it over as she turned to find Lauren standing beside her. “Um, hi.”
“Hey.” Lauren’s eyes flicking down to the picture she had not noticed until Grey had hastily tried to hide it from her. She lifted her eyes to meet Grey’s, and her stomach dropped at the raw pain she saw looking back at her. “Sorry to interrupt, but Kim was wondering how much longer it would be until we reached the snorkel spot for the morning.”
Grey looked down at the chart plotter on her dash. “Probably about fifteen minutes or so. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Lauren smiled at the way Grey arched a questioning brow at her. “Max and Peyton just got busted fo
r smacking Reid in the head with a couple of swimming noodles, and she wanted to know how long to leave them in time out. You seriously didn’t hear the screaming?”
“No.” Grey looked down at the picture in her hand. She did not know what in the world possessed her to do it, but she flipped it back over to show it to Lauren. “I guess I was distracted.”
“Understandable,” Lauren said, her eyes following Grey’s. She tried to hide her surprise at how alike she and the woman in the picture with Grey looked, but her mouth still fell open a little bit in surprise. She was taller than the other woman, whose head had only come up to Grey’s shoulder, with a darker complexion and far more freckles, but their hair and eyes were alike enough that they could have easily passed as cousins. “She’s pretty.”
Grey nodded and smoothed her thumb over the edge of the photo. “Yeah. She was.”
“Oh…” Lauren’s voice trailed off as she did not know how she should respond to Grey’s use of the past tense. “I…”
“She’s my fiancée. Or, was,” Grey offered quietly. “Emily. She, uh, she died…a little over three years ago.”
“Shit.” Lauren’s right hand hovered in the air above Grey’s shoulder for half a second before she gave it a gentle squeeze. Suddenly Grey’s ‘they’re all just distractions’ comment from the night before made perfect sense. “I’m so sorry, Grey.”
Grey closed her eyes, drawing strength from the touch even as a feeling of guilt surged through her because of it. “Thanks.”
Lauren’s gaze dropped to look at the picture of Emily as Grey’s shoulder relaxed beneath her palm, the brunette’s head turning ever so slightly toward her, like she was trying to lean into the touch without actually doing so. Grey’s expression was so heartbreakingly fragile that Lauren found herself needing to look away, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw Kim’s head pop into view.
“Hey,” Kim called out.
Lauren bit her lip at the way Grey tensed at the sound of Kim’s voice, and sighed when Grey sat up straighter, rolling her shoulders to try and shrug her hand off. “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes,” she told Kim.
“Closer to ten,” Grey piped up, her voice only a little rougher than usual as she shoved the picture between her leg and the seat.
Kim’s eyes flicked between the two women and she nodded as she flashed them an apologetic smile, clearly aware that she had interrupted something private. “All right, thanks.”
Lauren looked down at Grey, who was staring resolutely ahead with jaw clenched tight and her hands squeezing the life out of the wheel. Everything about Grey screamed to be left alone, and two days ago, Lauren would have done just that. But she remembered the way Grey had leaned into her only moments before, the way her body had relaxed as took the comfort Lauren was offering, and she could not find the motivation to leave. Not when Grey was clearly hurting, and definitely not when she might be able to do something to help ease that pain. Lauren licked her lips nervously as she laid her hand gently back on Grey’s shoulder and she let out the breath she had not realized she was holding when Grey relaxed into her touch. Lauren smiled sadly and slid her hand across the back of Grey’s shoulders to pull her into a one-armed hug, nothing too much or too confining, but just a light embrace to let Grey know that she was not alone.
As Lauren felt Grey sink into her side, she wished she was better with words so that she could thank Grey for sharing Emily with her. But words had never been her strong suit, and instinct had her turning her head to press a gentle kiss to Grey’s temple. It was what her best friend always did to make her feel better when she needed it, and it was not until her lips came into contact with Grey’s skin that she realized what she was doing. Her breath caught in her throat as she froze, and then she pulled away as if burned. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her arm dropping to her side. “So sorry,” she repeated as she turned and hurried down the stairs.
Grey had frozen at the feeling of Lauren’s lips on her skin, and she only let out the breath she had unconsciously been holding once she was sure Lauren had gone. She pulled the picture of her and Emily out from under her leg, and she could not contain the few tears that slipped silently down her cheeks as she looked at the face of the woman to whom she had once promised forever.
Chapter 11
Sandy Spit was a small island that sat just off the northern coast of Jost Van Dyke, with a wide sandy beach around its perimeter and lush tropical foliage filling its middle. It was a quintessential Caribbean islet—the kind of island pirates in the movies were stranded on after a mutiny, with nothing but a bottle of rum and a flintlock pistol loaded with a single shot to put the poor bastard out of his misery once the alcohol had run out and reality set in—and because of that, it was a popular stopping point for many charters operating in the islands.
The sound of music playing greeted Grey when she returned to the Veritas from ferrying the Muellers over to the spit, and she smiled as she tied the dinghy’s bow line off to a cleat beside the starboard dive platform. It had been a while since she had last heard Inside Out, but she had no problem picking up the chorus as she skipped up the stairs to the back deck. Her step faltered, however, when she spotted Lauren sitting at the starboard table, her long legs stretched in front of her and crossed at the ankle while the fingers of her left hand played with a loose curl beside her temple, but she recovered quickly under Lauren’s unsure gaze and smiled as she tipped her head toward the salon. “Nice choice.”
Lauren smiled somewhat nervously, still unsure as to whether or not she had overstepped her bounds earlier that morning. It had felt natural to try and soothe Grey like that, but the time between then and now had given her plenty of opportunity to replay that brief moment over and over again until she was convinced that she had royally fucked up. “Thanks. I know it’s not the classical stuff you like, but…”
Grey waved her off. “It’s fine.” She ran a hand through her hair, and shivered when her thumb brushed over the spot at her temple where Lauren had kissed her earlier. “You, ah…reading?” she asked, forcing her attention away from the way Lauren was chewing her lower lip nervously and onto the iPad on her lap.
“Yeah. Figured I’d take advantage of the peace and quiet before I need to go start getting things ready for lunch.” Lauren turned off the tablet and set it down onto her legs. “How about you?”
Grey shrugged and glanced back at the spit, noting that a couple more boats had arrived in the few minutes she had been talking to Lauren, and that a handful of people had taken to the shallow waters by the beach. “I was probably going to just watch the water. I actually had to jump in after a kid last season because he wasn’t a strong enough swimmer to fight the current that wraps around the eastern edge of the island.”
Lauren nodded, relieved that Grey was not going to bring up what had happened earlier. “Ah. So you actually earned that lifeguard tee you wore yesterday.”
“I did,” Grey said as she slipped into the banquette at the table opposite Lauren.
“In college?”
“High school.” Grey grinned. “I grew up swimming competitively so the lifeguard thing was a natural fit. And, as an added bonus, I got paid to ogle all the girls in bikinis. Win-win.”
“Sounds like it,” Lauren chuckled. “You’re lucky. I waited tables at the local country club through high school. Not a bikini in sight, there. But, well, I probably wouldn’t have wanted to see the old women who came into the club’s dining room in bikinis. Were you any good?”
Grey smirked. “At ogling girls?”
“At swimming.” Lauren rolled her eyes. “We’re all good at ogling girls, Wells.”
“I was all right.” Grey shrugged modestly. “Made zones pretty much every year, but once I got to San Diego, I realized I would rather spend my free time sailing rather than swimming laps, so I gave up racing.”
“Do you still swim, like, just for fun?”
Grey nodded and let her attention drift back toward the
water. “I usually hit the water in the morning before everybody wakes up. I just haven’t these last few days because… Well, you know.”
“Yeah,” Lauren murmured, casting an apologetic look in Grey’s direction. “I’m sorry about that.”
Grey waved off the apology. “It’s not your fault. It was just a lot for me to wrap my head around.”
“I’ll bet,” Lauren agreed.
“Yeah.” Grey ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “You look so much like Emily that it just kind of threw me for a loop. Ya know?”
Lauren nodded understandingly. “How did you guys meet?”
“Kelly Kipling set us up.” Grey smiled at the memory. “She threw herself a birthday party at the Schooner, one of her family’s hotels on Saint Thomas, and I was on my way to the bar to get a drink when I saw Emily. I remember thinking to myself how beautiful she was, and then when Kip introduced us...that was it for me. I was hooked.”
“Love at first sight,” Lauren said, smiling wistfully at Grey’s story.
Grey nodded. “Pretty much. Anyways, after about a year of seeing each other whenever I was on the island, she quit her job as an advertising rep for Kip and became my first mate.”
“How long were you two together?”
“Three years, four months, and thirteen days.” Grey’s gaze grew unfocused as she stared out over the water, and she cleared her throat softly. “Can we, uh, talk about something else?”
“Of course.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you about her, it’s just that it’s…”
“It’s fine, Grey,” Lauren assured her gently. “I get it. This whole situation is pretty strange.”
“You could say that again.”
Lauren nodded. “So…what’s your favorite movie?”
Grey arched a brow at Lauren, clearly passing judgment on her choice in conversational topics. “Wind.”
Lauren chuckled. “I should have known that you’d pick a movie about sailing.”
