Page 25 of Last Wish Wedding

He looked up, a half-smile playing at his lips. “Depends. Did you bring coffee?”

“In my thermos.” She held up the bag over her shoulder.

Mac took it from her, his fingers brushing hers.

They cast off smoothly, the engine purring as Mac guided them out of the cove. Once they cleared the headland, he unfurled the sails, and they caught the wind with a satisfying snap.

Kelsey wandered the deck, trailing her hand along the polished railings. Everything about the Nereid spoke of careful maintenance—gleaming brass, fresh paint, clean lines. She made her way to where Mac stood at the helm, his stance relaxed but alert as he watched the sails.

“She’s beautiful,” Kelsey said. “What made you choose this one?”

“Good size for single-handed sailing. Sturdy enough for ocean crossings.” His eyes remained on the horizon. “She’ll do well anywhere I take her.”

The casual implication made her curious. “How long will you be gone?”

He shrugged. “No set timeline. That’s the point. Maybe a year. Maybe more.”

“Sounds lonely,” she said softly.

“Sounds perfect.” His jaw tightened slightly. “No responsibilities. No expectations. No people. Just me and the sea.”

Kelsey watched his profile, noting the tension around his eyes. She thought of Mr. Costigan, growing frailer each month, and how Mac checked on him multiple times a day. She didn’t need to ask when he would be leaving. That timeline was pretty clear. After his grandfather didn’t need him anymore.

“The Caribbean’s beautiful in winter,” she said instead of all the things she wanted to say. “All those little hidden coves and islands.”

Mac glanced at her then, something softening in his expression. “Ever been?”

“Once, years ago. Family cruise.” She smiled at the memory. “I got terribly seasick.”

“You seem fine now.”

“Don’t jinx it.” She bumped his shoulder with hers, and he chuckled.

The sound warmed her more than the sun.

Mac adjusted their heading slightly, his movements easy and practiced. “So, I know you aren’t from around here. Where did you and your sister grow up?”

“We’re from Vermont originally. Small town near Burlington.” Kelsey settled onto the bench near the helm. “Amy moved here first, about three years ago. Said she fell in love with the island the minute she stepped off the ferry.”

“And you followed her?”

“Amy kept telling me I needed a change. When the nurse practitioner position opened up at the clinic, it felt like a sign. It was an opportunity to be in private practice with a physician partner in a small town. I could see my patients in the office and on home visits as their primary care provider.” She hadn’t meant to mention that, but something about the gentle roll of the waves made it easier to talk.

Mac nodded, watching a pair of gulls wheel overhead. “Is it just the two of you?”

“Both our parents died when we were in college. Dad was a retired high school principal, Mom taught piano.” She smiled. “They were great, a lot older than my friend’s parents, but they tried very hard to fit in.”

“And how do you like the island? Noah seems to have friends and activities he loves.” He smiled at her. “We talk when we are looking for shells. He’s a great kid.”

“I love it here. The pace, the people.” She paused. “Even the isolation. My sister worries I’ll become a hermit.”

“I can relate to that, it’s a good place to not have to deal with too many people.” He smiled at her then, his white teeth bright against his darker sunglasses. “Your sister doesn’t seem the hermit type.”

Kelsey laughed. “God, no. She knows everyone on the island. Always planning something—yoga classes, meditation groups, those full moon ceremonies on the beach.”

“I’ve heard about those.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Grandad keeps threatening to join in.”

“You should let him. I bet Amy would say he has ‘good energy.’” Kelsey gathered her hair into a ponytail to tuck under her hat, as it was blowing wildly about her head. Mac watched her hands, the familiar scowl on his face, his eyes unreadable behind his dark lenses.