“And you didn’t move to Ocracoke permanently. You’re only staying a few months or so, right?” He shook his head, breaking into that smile again. “But enough. Like I said earlier, I’m Bryce and it’s nice to meet you, Maggie.”
It took a few seconds before I was finally able to croak out, “You could tell all that from looking at my face and my palms?”
“No. I learned most of it from Linda.”
It took me a second to figure it out. “My aunt?”
“I visited with her for a little while when I was in the cabin. She pointed you out when you walked past our table and she told me a little about you. I’m the one who fixed your bike, by the way.”
As I peered at him, I vaguely remembered my aunt and Gwen talking to someone in the booth.
“Then what was all that stuff about my face and my palms?”
“Nothing. Just having fun.”
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“Maybe not. But you should have seen your expression. You’re very pretty when you have no idea what to say.”
I almost wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. Pretty? Did he just say that I’m very pretty? Again, I reminded myself that it didn’t matter one way or the other. “I could have done without the magic trick.”
“You’re right. It won’t happen again.”
“Why would my aunt tell you about me?” And, I wondered, what else had she told him?
“She wanted to know if I was interested in tutoring you. I do that sometimes.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. “You’re going to be my tutor?”
“I haven’t committed to it. I wanted to meet you first.”
“I don’t need a tutor.”
“My mistake, then.”
“My aunt just worries a lot.”
“I understand.”
“Then why doesn’t it sound like you believe me?”
“I have no idea. I was just going on what your aunt told me. But if you don’t need a tutor, that’s fine with me.” His grin was relaxed, his dimples still in place. “How do you like it so far?”
“Like what?”
“Ocracoke,” he said. “You’ve been here a few weeks now, right?”
“It’s kind of small.”
“For sure.” He laughed. “It took me a while to get used to it, too.”
“You weren’t raised here?”
“No,” he said. “Like you, I’m a dingbatter.”
“What’s a dingbatter?”
“Anyone who isn’t originally from here.”
“That’s not a real thing.”
“It is around here,” he said. “My father and my brothers are dingbatters, too. Not my mom, though. She was born and raised here. We’ve only been back for a few years.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward an older-model truck with fading red paint and large wide tires. “I’ve got an extra chair in the car if you want to sit. It’s a lot more comfortable than the benches.”
“I should probably get going. I don’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me at all. Until you showed up, the ride was fairly boring.”
I couldn’t exactly tell if he was flirting, but uncertain, I said nothing at all. Bryce seemed to take my lack of an answer as a yes and went on.
“Great,” he said. “I’ll get the chair.”
Before I knew what was happening, the chair was angled toward the ocean beside his, and I watched as he took his seat. Suddenly feeling a bit trapped, I made my way toward the other chair and seated myself gingerly alongside him.
He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Better than the bench, right?”
I was still trying to digest how good-looking he was and that my aunt—the former nun—had set all this up. Or maybe not. The last thing my parents probably wanted was for me to meet anyone of the opposite sex ever again, and they’d probably told her that, too.
“I guess. It’s still kind of cold.”
As I spoke, Daisy moseyed over and lay down between us. I reached toward her, giving her a quick pat.
“Be careful,” he said. “Once you start petting her, she can get kind of insistent that you never stop.”
“It’s okay. She reminds me of my dog. Back home, I mean.”
“Yeah?”
“Sandy’s older and a little bigger, though. I miss her. How old is Daisy?”
“She turned one in October. So I guess she’s almost fourteen months now.”