“Sounds like we have hours and hours of research ahead of us.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” She smiled at him and didn’t seem bothered by that prospect.
They enjoyed a leisurely meal, then left to take the ferry back to Magnolia Key. The excitement of their research trip still buzzed between them. As he drove onto the ferry and put his car in park, he turned to her. “Want to go up to the top deck?” he asked. “We might catch a nice sunset.”
Felicity’s eyes lit up. “That sounds perfect.”
They made their way up the stairs to the open-air deck. A warm breeze buffeted them as they found a spot along the railing. The sky was ablaze with oranges and pinks, the sun a glowing orb sinking toward the horizon.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, leaning against the railing.
Brent nodded in agreement, but found his gaze drawn more to her than the sunset. The fading light cast a glow on her face, highlighting the contentment in her expression.
“Thank you for today,” she said, turning to look at him. “I haven’t felt this… alive in a long time.”
“I’m glad,” he replied, pleased that he’d been able to do this for her. “I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.”
They fell into a comfortable silence as the sun dipped lower, painting the water with streaks of glistening gold. His hand rested on the railing, mere inches from hers. He was acutely aware of the small distance between them.
As the ferry cut through a wave, the deck shifted slightly. Her hand slid along the railing, brushing against his. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them at the contact. Neither pulled away.
His heart did a double beat as he made a decision. Slowly, carefully, he turned his hand, gently taking hers in his own. Her skin was soft and warm against his palm. He held his breath, waiting for her reaction.
Her fingers curled around his, returning the gentle pressure. He exhaled softly, a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at her, only to find her looking up at him with a shy smile of her own.
They stood there, hand in hand, watching as the last sliver of sun disappeared beneath the horizon. The sky darkened, and stars began to twinkle overhead. Neither spoke, but he felt as though something significant had shifted between them.
Chapter7
“You look chipper this morning,” Gran greeted her when she entered the kitchen and grabbed an apron. “Sleep well?”
“Very well.” She busied herself helping Gran, humming under her breath as she pulled a batch of sticky buns from the oven. Her mind kept going back to last night. Brent’s simple move of taking her hand. That was all, just a simple connection between them. She paused and stared out the window, remembering how lovely spending the day with Brent had been.
Gran looked at her and grinned. “Humming now, are we? You sure don’t seem like the same woman who came here just a short while ago.”
“I don’t feel like the same woman,” she admitted. “I was exhausted and disillusioned and… well, it felt like everything in my life was going wrong.”
“And now?”
“Now, I feel like…” The warmth of a blush crept across her cheeks. “I feel like things are turning around.”
“So you haven’t said much about it, but I guess it was a really tough school year? You feel like talking about it?”
“It was. You know, when I was little, we had tornado drills where we were taught to go under our desks for protection or fire drills where we all filed outside? Now we have safety drills for… active shooters. Lock the doors and stay away from windows. It doesn’t seem like kids should have to grow up with those kinds of drills.”
Gran walked over and touched her arm. “No, it isn’t right that they have to deal with all that at such a young age.”
“And I had a handful of parents this year that were, how do I put this nicely? Very vocal. About… everything.” She shrugged, thinking back on Mrs. Dixon in particular. She could not do anything right in Mrs. Dixon’s eyes. And her son, Jeff, was a handful, but Mrs. Dixon insisted he never did anything wrong. Not even when he’d punched poor Jenny and given her a black eye. Even the principal seemed afraid to stand up to Mrs. Dixon.
Then there was the time Mrs. Dixon went to the school board, threatening to get her fired. And the sad thing? She hadn’t been sure if that would have been a bad thing or not.
“I’m sorry you had such a tough year. You used to come here on your summer break, all excited, telling me stories about your kids. Your eyes lit up, and you were just so happy.”
“I was. But that seems like such a long time ago. The administrative part of teaching seems overwhelming now. I just… I just want to teach the kids. Get them excited about learning.”
“Maybe it’s time to move on. Do something different,” Gran suggested gently.
“But what would I do? I’ve been a teacher ever since I left college. I feel like it’s part of what I am. Who I am.”
