It's a nice day, the height of summer, and where we are in Alaska, the days are long. The sun doesn’t set until late in the night. It doesn't bother me. I've always been a good sleeper. It's the one place I can let my demons lie dormant. And today, as I'm in my captain's chair heading toward my buddy’s place, I think back to being on this boat with Marley.
I run a hand over my beard, trying to figure out just what I'll say when I head her way again. I'm not going to tiptoe around my feelings because for two and a half months, all I've been doing is thinking about her, the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, her pink lips and her heart-shaped face, her freckles and her wavy hair the color of cornfields. God, I want to be with her. I want to be hers. I want to love her, if only she'll let me.
When I get to Beam's, my friends can tell something's on my mind. Wavy's here with the babies. Jemma too. And Bellamy is all smiles because she's expecting as well.
"Look at all these families," I say. "Who the hell would have thought it?"
Wavy laughs. "Oh, Maker. I've heard a few things about your new place, that it's been built with a family in mind. Maybe you'll stop teasing us for laying down roots and you'll plant some of your own."
I shrug, "I have a mind to do that."
We spend the early afternoon around a fire pit, shooting the shit and catching up. Beam and Bellamy had the best time in Mexico on their honeymoon and Bellamy doesn't stop talking about it. It's cute. Makes me wonder where I would want to take Marley for our honeymoon, trying to picture the kind of place she'd like.
Bellamy grew up on the streets. She's had a hard ass life and I hate the role I've had in that. But seeing her now, talking about swim-up bars and margaritas and the all-inclusive resort they stayed at, it makes me really fucking proud of her and Beam for making it work.
By the time Beam finishes grilling the burgers and hot dogs, Bellamy excuses herself. "Sorry, I'll be right back, but I think Marley's here."
She walks away before I can say any more and Jameson pulls out a bottle of whiskey. "Hey, let's have a drink before we eat."
Walker grins. "Sure. What are we toasting?"
"I don't know. That we're all here, happy, healthy?”
"It's good enough for me," I say as Jameson hands out a round. We all take a drink and grimace. "Damn, it's hard to find good whiskey out here."
"I know, right? You'd think there'd be some better shit that's made in the region, but I can't find any. Every time I'm out, I pick up a bottle, but nothing has seemed to sit well with me."
We chuckle, finishing the shots and then setting the glasses aside as I try to brace myself for what comes next. Marley is here. Did the guys know she was coming?
I appreciate Jameson's gift of liquid courage when I needed it most. And as Marley walks up to the patio where we are all relaxing, my heart starts to pound. She is even more beautiful than I remembered. It’s like she goddamn glows.
She’s walking toward us with Bellamy. They're whispering and I tense. It’s time to step the fuck up.
Standing, I wipe my hands on my jeans, and my brother looks over at me. "You got this, bro," he says, and I shake my head, hoping he's right.
"Marley came just in time for lunch," Bellamy says. "You hungry, honey?"
She nods slowly, her eyes locked on mine. “Maker, I didn't realize that you were going to be here," she says, stammering and looking around the circle.
Bellamy smiles. "Yeah, isn't that great? He just showed up. The guys all wanted to get together. You know how the boys can be."
She nods. "Yeah. I do know how boys can be."
"That's right. You have three brothers, right?" Jemma asks.
Marley nods. "Yeah. I do. Well, it's nice to see everybody again."
Her eyes dart between the women and I wonder what she's thinking, if she regrets showing up here. "How did you get here?" I ask, my voice gruffer than I'd like.
"I chartered a boat. When I called Bellamy earlier, she said that I could stay the night, so I think I'll call the same guy to come back out tomorrow to pick me up."
"Good timing," Wavy says. "We're staying the night too.”
"Hey, that was super smart of you guys to build those yurts down by the water. With the three of them, you'll be able to host lots of barbecues over the years,” Jameson adds.
Beam smiles with pride and we dish up our food. We head to some picnic tables that Beam built underneath the tree house and while holding a paper plate, I pull Marley aside. "Hey, it's really good to see you," I say.
She nods slowly. "I really had no idea you were going to be here."
"Are you angry I am?"
She shakes her head. "No, not at all. I'm just a little caught off guard."
Jemma calls out for Marley. "Come sit next to me," she says. "I'm dying to know if you have any recommendations for photographers in Riverside. I really want to get portraits done with Jameson."
Marley smiles tightly at me. "We'll talk later?" she says, asking it like it's a question.
I nod tightly, wanting to do so much more than talk. She walks away, sitting with the ladies, and I head over to the guys who are still discussing the fact that all the whiskey in Alaska tastes like shit.
"Hey," I say, "maybe we can do something about that."
"What do you mean?"
