She thought about that for a second.
“No. If you had, it wouldn’t . . . we wouldn’t have gotten to know each other.” That’s not quite what she meant, but she wasn’t sure how to put into words what she meant. If he’d quit right away, she wouldn’t have cared about him. He would have just been that guy that she’d had the great one-night stand with. “I’m glad you quit when you did, though.”
He put his hand on her waist.
“Me, too.”
She leaned in to kiss him when a wave hit them and splashed them both chest-high. They both burst out laughing, and she turned back to the water, still giggling.
“At least the sun is coming out,” Luke said. “We’ll dry off.”
She grinned at him.
“Yeah, we will.” Then she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
They walked back to their blanket after a few more minutes and sat down. She hadn’t worn a swimsuit under her dress—it was usually too overcast at the beaches here for that—but Luke was right: the sun was coming out, they’d dry off. Eventually.
He sat behind her, put his arms around her, and pulled her into his chest. She sighed, and relaxed into him.
“We aren’t going to dry off like this,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “I don’t care.”
They sat there for a while, not talking, not reading, not doing anything, but doing so much at the same time.
“Do you remember,” Luke asked after a while, “how I said I wanted to find out if this was something?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I remember.”
“This is something,” he said. “Don’t you think?”
She put her hands on top of his.
“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”
She slid her hand into one of his and kissed his knuckles, like he’d done to her in the car. He tightened his grip around her and kissed the top of her shoulder blade.
“Something good,” she said.
He kissed her hair, the back of her neck, her cheek, and then, finally, when she turned around to him, her lips.
“Something good,” he said.
Eighteen
WHEN MARGOT GOT DRESSED the next morning, Luke assumed she would pull the black wrap dress back out of her closet, but she reached for a blue-and-white-striped dress instead.
“You’re not wearing the black one?” he asked.
She turned to him, a horrified look on her face.
“It’s Tuesday,” she said. And they both burst out laughing.
He and Margot left her place at the same time that morning. Usually, he left much earlier than she did, but today she’d wanted to get to the winery early, he guessed because she’d taken the day off before.
He got to the inn, said hi to Beth, and checked if any reservations or emails had come in overnight. Then he went into the office; he was trying to take this opportunity to update all of his mom’s software and get all of her systems working right, which he’d longed to do for years.
A few hours into the morning, Beth poked her head into the office.
“Is it okay if I take my break now?” she asked. “I was going to go on a coffee run.”
He stood up.
“Sure, no problem. I’ll take over the front desk.”
A few minutes after Beth left, the chimes dinged over the front door.
“Welcome to the Punchdown Inn, I’m Luke. How can I help you?” he said as he glanced up at the couple who walked in.
“Yeah, we’re checking in, last name Jordan—wait a minute. Luke Williams?”
He looked at the guy and sighed inwardly. He used to work with this guy. Grant Jordan. Perfectly fine coworker, but kind of a jackass.
“That’s me. Hey, Grant, how’ve you been?”
“You’re working here now?” Grant stared at him for a moment and shook his head. “How did that happen?”
Luke kept a smile on his face.
“My mom owns this place. Just helping her out while she’s recovering from an injury.” He took Grant’s driver’s license and credit card.
“Oh, that makes a little more sense, but . . . but still. Wild.” His eyes widened. “I knew you left, but to do this? How the mighty have fallen, huh?”
Luke gritted his teeth and ran Grant’s card through the machine.
“Oh, hey—did you hear that Brian is leaving?” Grant asked.
Luke looked up. Brian, his old, loathed boss.
“Really? No, I had no idea. I’ve been in touch with Craig, but he hasn’t mentioned it.”