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Cedar Cove Collection. Debbie MacomberЧитать онлайн книгу.

Cedar Cove Collection - Debbie Macomber


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not to try.

      “You’re dating other guys?”

      Justine didn’t think she wanted Seth to know she was available. His confession had a curious effect on her—it left her with the almost overwhelming urge to laugh. All through high school, she’d felt tall and awkward, on the very fringes of the popular crowd. She’d been too smart and serious for social success as defined in high school.

      Seth tore off a piece of bread and smiled sadly. “It’s all right. You don’t need to answer that. I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I?”

      “That’s not it,” she reassured him. “I don’t know what to say. I never dreamed… You could’ve gone out with any girl you wanted!” She shook her head again. “I didn’t date much in high school. It was a bad time for me.”

      “Because of Jordan?”

      So few people mentioned her twin’s name that it stunned her to hear it spoken. She waited for the shock to dissipate before answering. “Partly. We were close, you know, and well, nothing was the same after he died.”

      “For me, either.”

      Naturally Justine knew Seth and Jordan had been good friends, but she hadn’t anticipated that her brother’s death would’ve made such a lasting impression on him.

      “I used to think if I’d been with him that day, he wouldn’t have drowned.”

      Until Seth said the words, Justine had forgotten that this very thought had passed through her mind the day of the accident. She felt tears stinging her eyes and looked away, blinking furiously.

      “Perhaps it would be best if we didn’t discuss Jordan,” she finally said, still staring out the window, although the lights of Bremerton were an indistinct haze. “The accident was a long time ago.” It had been the turning point in her life. She’d lost not only her twin brother but her family, her security, her entire sense of self. Since the age of thirteen, she’d staggered through life looking for purpose—for something that would root her once again.

      They were both quiet, as if caught in the memories of the past, then made a determined effort to move forward. By the time their meal arrived, they were chatting again, their conversation light and relaxed. They lingered over coffee, and he seemed as reluctant to leave as she was. When D.D.’s closed at ten, Seth offered to show her his boat, the Silver Belle. Justine agreed.

      “It’s not much.”

      Justine didn’t expect that it would be; still, she was curious. They walked toward the marina. She hunched her shoulders against the cold drizzle that had begun while they sat in the restaurant. They stepped onto the floating concrete dock, which was slick with rain. The lights reflecting off the black water guided her as Seth skillfully led the way. He moved easily along the rocking walkway, and was several feet ahead of her before he realized that she lagged behind. When he noticed, he offered her his hand. She was amazed by the strength she felt in his fingers. His hands were those of a man who knew the value of physical work. This observation reminded her of what her mother had said. He’s a hard worker, Justine, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

      During their dinner discussion, she’d learned that Seth not only lived at the marina, but helped manage it in the winter months. In the summers, he flew to Alaska and fished on one of the huge commercial vessels there. His father and grandfather had been fishermen before him. As Seth put it, fishing was in his blood.

      He stepped onto the twenty-two-foot sailboat and helped Justine onboard. As soon as she was secure, he led her belowdecks. His quarters were cramped but tidy.

      “Coffee?” he asked, as he reached for the kettle.

      “No, I’ve had enough, thanks.” She didn’t want him to go to the trouble, especially since she didn’t plan on staying long.

      He stood with his hands tucked in his back pockets, looking indecisive. The tour of his home had taken all of about one minute.

      “I’ll escort you back to your car,” he offered.

      Justine was grateful; she didn’t relish walking back along the floating dock on her own. Once again Seth took her hand, and neither spoke until they reached her vehicle. Before unlocking the door, she turned to him. “Thanks,” she said lightly. “I enjoyed dinner and seeing your boat.”

      “I enjoyed spending the evening with you.” He retreated a step. “Are you going to any more of the planning meetings?”

      “I’m not sure yet, but I think so. What about you?”

      “I will as long as I’m in town.”

      “Oh, right.” Seth would be in Alaska fishing at the time of the reunion. Suddenly the thought of his not being there dejected her. When she’d first arrived at Lana’s, she was so certain she had nothing in common with any of these people. She’d been delighted to discover that she did. With one of them, anyway…

      “I’ll miss you,” she said.

      “Do you mean that?” Seth stared down at her.

      Justine nodded.

      “I’m glad.” Then, without giving her a chance to guess his intention, he drew her into his arms and slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

      Very much aware of what she was doing, Justine closed her eyes and raised her face to meet his kiss. His lips settled warm and moist over hers. Wrapped in his embrace, she was astonished to realize that she wanted this. Wanted it badly…

      There was excitement in his kiss, and gentleness. She hadn’t expected a man of his size to be so…tender, but then Seth Gunderson had been full of surprises all evening.

      The John F. Reynolds was gone and without a word from Ian. The fact that he’d left without notifying her was perfectly okay, Cecilia told herself bitterly. Their last meeting had been so horrible she didn’t care if she ever saw her soon-to-be ex-husband again.

      “You all right, kiddo?” her father asked Saturday morning when Cecilia dropped in at the restaurant to pick up her paycheck.

      “Why shouldn’t I be?” she snapped.

      “No reason,” he said, and held up his hands as though warding off trouble.

      She hadn’t meant to growl at him, but lately her father had developed this irritating habit of trying to be her friend, her confidante, and she rejected both roles.

      “How’s school?” he asked, obviously attempting to make conversation.

      “Why the concern all of a sudden?” she wanted to know. When she’d first mentioned it, all the encouragement she’d gotten was some offhand comment about how cool that was.

      “No reason,” he said again. He turned away as if he regretted even asking.

      Cecilia sighed, hardly understanding herself. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

      Bobby stared at her. “What’s bothering you, kid? You’ve been in kind of a bad mood the last couple of weeks.”

      “That’s not true.”

      He frowned, seemed about to protest, then shrugged. “Whatever.”

      “It’s just that I’ve been working late, then getting up early for school.” A feeble explanation, but the most she was willing to give. Lack of sleep explained a lot, but not everything.

      “So you’re still taking all those classes?” He seemed to think she would’ve lost interest by now.

      “Yeah, I’m still in school.” And loving the challenge, despite the drain on her time and energy.

      “Ian around these days?” her father asked cautiously.

      “Apparently not,” she said, speaking in a nonchalant manner. “The John F. Reynolds left earlier this week.” It wasn’t as though she could


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