Callie stopped pacing and leaned over the kitchen counter. She had a dull pain in her gut and a sharp pain in her head. She had been such an idiot, and he had every right to be mad at her. It didn’t matter if she was angry because he had left with Veronica. Callie had lied to, or at least misled him for the entire time she had been in Newport. So that was it. She had to make things right. She texted him back, “See you at 7.”
She swallowed hard and headed to the bedroom to get dressed. She knew she must have at least some clothing that Veronica hadn’t touched. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a cotton tee. She didn’t want to dress up. She didn’t want to feel glamorous. She just wanted to get this over with and explain everything to Logan. One way or another, she was going to make things right.
She got in her rental car and drove the short distance from Hank’s house to Thames Street. The paparazzi must have gotten word that Veronica had left, because Callie didn’t see anyone at the driveway gate. Veronica had probably tipped them off herself. Callie didn’t even see another person until after she had parked the car a few blocks away from the wharf. She had been glad to be alone as she tried to think of what to say. The rain had lifted, and the sun had started to filter through the clouds. There was barely any breeze, and the warm sun felt good on her face, but she couldn’t help the pit of despair she felt in her stomach.#p#分页标题#e#
Halfway down the wharf, before reaching The Independent, she stopped and leaned against a building. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the right words to tell Logan what he meant to her. She tried to think of how to explain the warmth and security she felt whenever she was with him. Before she opened her eyes, she felt a familiar tap on the shoulder. She had barely known Logan for a few weeks, and yet she’d recognize that touch anywhere.
Logan stepped back and looked at her. “You look terrible,” he said.
“Gee, thanks,” Callie said.
“Come with me,” Logan said, holding out his hand. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“I need to tell you something too,” Callie said.
“It can wait.”
“I don’t think it can,” Callie protested. “I need to tell you this before we go anywhere.”
Logan looked around at the people on the street. He looked like he was wondering if Callie was going to make a scene.
“When I came here, I was told to do two things. The first was to keep you out of trouble, and the second was not to fall for you. I’ve failed at both.”
“You haven’t,” Logan said. He stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around Callie’s hand. “Come on, let’s talk somewhere more private.” He led her down to the dock that stretched out into the harbor behind his restaurant, leading her down the long, wide pier until he reached the end, and then he turned Callie toward a small row boat in the last slip.
“Is this another one of your toys?” Callie asked. “It’s very pretty, but I really think we should talk.”
“I do too, and I think we’re trying to say the same thing. Will you get in with me?”
“I don’t know if I’m in the mood to head out to the yacht tonight.”
“We’re not going to the yacht.”
“Where are we going?” Callie asked.
“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said.
Callie shot him a glance as if to ask “why wouldn’t I trust you?” Only after did she realize how strange it was for her to trust Logan so completely after so little time together. Yet, if he said he wanted to bring her somewhere in a tiny rowboat, she would let him.
Logan walked over to the small boat and motioned to Callie. He held her hand as she lowered herself in. “Put on your life vest,” he said. “I’m not taking any chances.” Logan stepped into the boat and untied it from the dock. He leaned against the edge of the pier and pushed the tiny craft out into the harbor.
Callie leaned back and watched Logan grab the oars and begin to row. As he pushed farther across the harbor, the sounds of the restaurants and shops along the shore began to recede, running together in one low hum, which became barely more than a whisper in the distance. As he rowed on, the wind began to pick up, and Callie listened to the rhythm of Logan’s strokes and the waves lapping against the hull. In the distance, Callie could hear the sailboats in the distance, their halyards and pulleys clanking against their masts in the evening breeze, but soon that too faded away, until all that was left was the boat beneath them and the open water.