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ters are still lean, but even they are picking up since we started to pull in the winter outdoor crowd. And a few artists have shown interest in renting these apartments for the winter months. North light. I’m lucky to be able to build a life here.” He strolled across to the fridge, removed a bottle and scooped two slender stemmed glasses from one of the cabinets.

“What are we celebrating?”

“The fact that you’ve learned to swim? Your first boat trip? Your first night without a six-year-old sleeping in the room next door? Adult time? The list of possibilities is endless.” Under his gentle persuasion the cork came free with a gentle pop, and he poured the champagne and handed her a glass. “Or maybe we should drink to courage.”

“Courage?”

“Swimming, sailing and sleepover. Knowing how hard all of those things must have been for you, I think it’s an appropriate toast.”

Remembering the vicious scars on his shoulder she decided he wasn’t low on courage himself. “I loved the sailing. And you were so patient with Lizzy.”

“She’s a great kid. Gutsy, funny—she reminds me a little of Rachel at the same age. Were you scared to let her go tonight?”

“Yes. But she wanted to do it so badly, and I trust Lisa.”

“Does she know the truth?”

“About Lizzy’s identity, yes. She had a bad experience with journalists herself, so she was sympathetic.” She wondered if she’d been tactless given his past profession, but he shook his head, reading her mind.

“I’m not about to defend the actions of the guy you told me about.”

“It’s been almost a month. Do you think they could still come?”

“It’s less likely with every day that passes.”

She stared down into her glass, watching the bubbles rise. “It’s weird. This is the first time I’ve been on my own for a month, and instead of feeling free, I miss her.”

“Kids have a habit of sneaking up on you. Before you know it, they’ve hooked you and you can’t get free.” He finished his champagne. “We should leave. They’re holding our table.”

The Galleon restaurant was situated a short walk from the harbor, with views over the ocean and the passing yachts. Despite the island location, or perhaps because of it, they’d managed to secure themselves a reputation as one of the top restaurants in Maine. They operated six months of the year, and during the winter months the owner and chef, Sallyanne Fisher, spent time traveling the world on the hunt for new recipes. As a result the menu was eclectic and interesting.

Sallyanne herself greeted Ryan with a kiss and showed them to a secluded table in the corner of the restaurant with a view over the water.

“Who did she have to disappoint to give you this table?” Emily slid into the chair with the view, noticing that they were partially hidden from their neighbors.

Ryan smiled. “I fixed her boat last summer. She’s been grateful ever since. And on an island this small it’s impossible not to know your neighbors and your competition.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it? The quality of the food here is attracting foodies from everywhere. It’s good for all of us.”

It certainly was good.

They ate sautéed jumbo shrimp with roasted garlic and baby spinach, followed by fresh Maine lobster washed down with a Californian white that was cool and so delicious, Emily drank more than she’d intended to.

They finished off by sharing a blueberry cheesecake. As she took the last mouthful, Emily moaned and closed her eyes. “This is so good. I’m going to tell Lisa to find a way to make this into an ice cream.”

“It’s generous of you to help her.”

“I’m doing it for selfish reasons. After everything that has happened lately, I need to feel competent at something.”

He picked up his glass. “You’re competent at a lot of things.”

“Not swimming or parenting.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your parenting skills. Just your confidence. But you’re pushing yourself out of your comfort zone on a daily basis. And you’re loving it.”

She put down her glass. “How do you know that?”


Tags: Sarah Morgan Puffin Island Billionaire Romance