“Good. Maybe the only thing you’ll feel like wearing is a bikini.”
They crossed the street and stopped in front of the Tranquil House Inn, which had a sign that read 1587 Restaurant.
“Are you as hungry as I am?” Ian asked.
“Starving.” They’d left Kate’s parents’ house around noon the day before and had broken up the thirteen-hour drive from Zionsville to Roanoke Island by stopping in West Virginia for the night. They’d gotten back on the road right after breakfast and hadn’t stopped for lunch. Having been sidetracked upon their arrival, they were now more than ready to eat.
A hostess escorted them to a table near the window and took their drink orders. They had a stunning view of Shallowbag Bay and the boats in the slips that lined the dock. Kate shielded her eyes from the sun that reflected off the water and streamed into the dining area, filling it with light.
When their drinks arrived, Ian lifted his glass. “Cheers to an endless summer, Katie.”
She smiled, clinked his glass with hers, and said, “Cheers.”
Roanoke Island was good for Kate. Ian treated her like a cherished treasure, and he handled her with the utmost care.
Every night he slept with his arms around her and his body pressed up against hers.
Every day he told her how much he loved her.
She had cried an ocean of tears in the preceding months, more than she’d ever had a reason to shed in her adult life, and she was determined that there would be no more crying.
They explored every inch of the island as well as all the towns along the Outer Banks, making their way north to Duck and south to Hatteras. Each day brought a new choice, and they’d discovered early on that they both preferred spending their time near the water. Kate loved lying on the beach, watching the ghost crabs scuttle along the sand while she read a book until she got too hot and had to submerge herself in the still slightly chilly ocean. She took long walks before breakfast every morning, but on Roanoke Island the air smelled like the ocean instead of the Mississippi River.
Ian had taken up windsurfing on Pamlico Sound as his preferred form of exercise. His dirty-blond hair was longer and had lightened considerably from the daily exposure to the sun. With his deep tan, he looked more like a surfer than a hacker, especially when he came out of the water, board shorts hanging low on his hips and sand clinging to his feet.
By the middle of June, only the slightest sadness remained from the emotional trauma of thinking she’d lost him forever. But every now and then the events of the previous months backed up on her and escaped without warning.
“This house is too small for a man who is six foot four,” Ian said one day after nearly hitting his head on the doorframe.
“I like this small house and this small island because I always know where you are,” Kate said and then burst into tears.
“Sweetness, come here,” he said, pulling her to him. He held her tight, stroking her hair until she calmed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding on to him until her heart stopped racing. “I don’t know where that came from.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize to me. And I promise I will never leave you again.”
To celebrate the Fourth of July, they decided to spend the evening at Nags Head.
“One of the locals told me they’re shooting fireworks off from the pier. We should have a great view from the beach,” Ian said as he put the cooler in the car.
When they arrived at the public access point, they walked along the path and up the wooden stairs until they reached the top of the dune, Ian pulling a beach cart behind him with their supplies. Below, the beach was filling up fast.