By the time I polished off my last bite of cheesecake, all my quandaries about spending the evening with Mitch had dissolved. It had been remarkably easy to slip back into the rapport we’d once shared, as we chatted about the people we’d known in Eastport and our experiences transitioning to life outside our hometown.

After Mitch paid the bill, we walked together outside into the fading twilight. Though the temperature had dropped, the wind had died down, making the evening chill bearable.

I took a step toward the parking lot, but rather than follow, Mitch hung back with his hands in his pockets. I threw him a questioning glance.

“How would you like to take a little walk along the river?” he asked.

I nodded, my heart pattering a funny quick rhythm. “Just let me call Brooke and see how Ava’s doing.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and selected Brooke’s cell number. The line rang a few times before voicemail clicked in. I left a brief message and disconnected the call.

“She’s probably still in the ER waiting room,” Mitch said. “She might be at the hospital for hours.”

“I guess she’ll call me back when she gets a chance.”

“Shall we?” He inclined his head toward the path that followed the riverbank.

As we walked side by side, away from the tavern’s lights, I realized that Mom would be home by now, wondering where I’d disappeared to. I should have asked Mitch to take me back. I just didn’t feel quite ready to leave.

“I hope Ava’s all right,” I said, matching his easy stride. The wind kicked up again and flung a lock of my hair across my cheek, and I tucked it back behind my ear.

“How old is she?”

“Four. Cutest little thing, with brown hair like Brooke’s and big green eyes like her dad. And these delicious little dimples that make you want to just eat her up with a spoon.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “I could swear by the tone of your voice that you actually like kids.”

“I do like other people’s kids,” I admitted. “On occasion and from a suitable distance.”

He laughed, a rich sound the same as I remembered. Obviously he and I had different views on becoming a parent, based on everything he’d told me about his marriage.

“So your brother has three kids?” I said.

“Yup. They’re nine, seven and four.”

“Yikes. No wonder you needed some peace and quiet.”

“They’re good kids. A little wild. They remind me not to take myself too seriously. And they’ve reminded me of things I knew as a kid but forgot. Like those little moments of pure joy that can be found in the simplest things.”

His remark made me think of Faith’s eight-year-old son, Brandon, and the day I’d taken him to the park on my own for the first time a few years ago. I remembered the rapture in his face as he lay on the grass watching bugs scuttle up a tree trunk. We ended up having the longest conversation about dung beetles and slug slime. Disgusting as it was, I smiled whenever it came to mind.

“Your parents are doing well?” I asked.

“They’re great. Enjoying retirement and traveling a lot. Yours?”

“I think my mom might be seeing Ed Connolly romantically. I’m not sure. She was cagey about it. She always is. Like she doesn’t want me getting too invested in her new relationship. As though I’m fifteen and not thirty-five.”

“She never remarried?” Mitch asked.

“Nope. My dad did, a couple of years after I moved out of his house. He was never very good at being alone.”

“Is that why you went to live with him rather than staying with your mom after they split up?”

Taken aback by the personal question, I hesitated before answering. “I never discussed that with you?”

“You talked a lot about how you didn’t get along with your mom. You complained that she was hardly ever around, and when she was she was constantly in your face. You thought she was the one who initiated your parents’ split. But girls usually stay with their mothers after a divorce, and the way you kept mentioning you were worried about your dad being alone that summer you were here in Eastport, I wondered if you figured he needed you more than she did.”

Surprised, I turned to him, but we’d wandered far enough from the lights of the tavern that I couldn’t quite read his expression. “You wondered that? Back then? You never said so.”

“Why would I? I figured it was easier for you to cast your mom as the villain than internalize the guilt you must have felt for choosing one parent over the other,” he said.

“I didn’t know teenage boys could be so perceptive. You’re right, I was a terrible daughter.”

“Carly, I didn’t mean that. You were just a kid. It’s hard enough being thirteen without all the added drama of having to make an impossible decision.”

I pulled in a long breath and blew it out. The agonizing choice I’d made still weighed on me—the guilt and the self-doubt, not to mention the loneliness of leaving my mother, my friends and everything I knew.

Those thoughts came to a screeching halt when Mitch’s hand curled around mine, sending my heart slamming against my ribs.

I fastened my gaze on the dark path ahead of us and kept pace beside him. I should pull my hand away. I shouldn’t like this so much. But I did like the gentle grip of his fingers on mine, very much. His thumb stroking across the back of my hand made my nerves dance in pleasant ways.

When I looked up, I caught his gentle smile. Lights from the bridge that spanned a narrow bend in the river ahead glittered in his eyes.

“What’s the smile for?” I asked.

“Just thinking how weird this is. The two of us walking together by the river, just the same as when we were seventeen. As though all that time in between never happened.”

I let my gaze wander over the water and spotted the outline of McCleary Island in the distance, a tiny swell of wooded land rising from the dark water. “But it did. I’m not the same.” I slowed to a stop, my hand still tucked in his, and slid an assessing look his way. “I don’t think you are, either.”

“I don’t think you’ve changed that much. And I didn’t want you to.” Mitch’s gaze tangled with mine, so direct and intent I couldn’t look away. “Why would I? You were my first love.”

My chest tightened, making my breath hitch a little. “Are you forgetting about Jodi?”

Briefly, his mouth pressed into a tight line. “I wasn’t in love with Jodi. I never even slept with her.”

“Never?” I arched a skeptical brow.

“We were never serious. I hardly even saw her that summer. She was working as a lifeguard at a resort north of here.” He tugged me a little closer. “When I said you were my first, I wasn’t lying about that.”

With our shoulders close, his body heat warmed me from head to toe. Or maybe it was the blood flooding my face that heated my cheeks. I considered him for a moment, casting my mind back to our intimate evening on the island. Doubts still niggled in the back of my mind. Had he tried to seduce Jodi and failed, while I’d been an easier catch? I supposed it didn’t matter now.

“Carly,” Mitch said gently, “I know you already accepted my apology. But I want to be sure you know that I really am deeply sorry about deceiving you. I should’ve broken up with Jodi right away. I should’ve known I couldn’t get away with it for long in a town where your neighbours know what you’re up to even before you do.”

“You were good at sneaking me around to places no one would see us,” I said. “Not that I was complaining. But I guess someone spotted us and ratted us out. You weren’t quite clever enough.”

“I was a stupid kid and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.” His hand tightened around mine. “But then I didn’t plan to fall for you so hard and so fast. It threw me.” His gaze roamed over my face, and I could almost see his younger self emerge from the shadows playing across his features.

“Mitch, it’s all right,” I said, the warmth in his words spreading through my chest. “It happened a long time ago. I’m sure Jodi and I both moved on without any permanent damage. Although I haven’t seen her since the day she confronted me at Hal’s. Even on Facebook. Not that I’ve looked.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mitch said. “I’m not on there. Can’t stand social media. I use it for business and that’s it.”

“Explains why I’ve never come across you.”

“You looked me up?” he asked with a smile in his voice.

“I might have once, just out of curiosity.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t find me sooner.”

I didn’t reply, but felt a smile tug at my lips. We were barely walking now, our steps small and slow, our hands still linked.

“I can sense your thoughts whirling,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”

I let my thoughts spill out without reservation. “Remember the first time we kissed, in the woods not far from here?” My gaze skimmed the black trees across the water, then I glanced down at our clasped hands. “You took my hand while we were walking and you seemed so nervous. A few times while we were talking, you turned to me and I thought you were going to kiss me, but you hesitated. Then, when we got to the water’s edge, my foot slipped and my shoe got soaked. I was so embarrassed, thinking you’d see me as some kind of goof.”

“Never.”

“I remember I was clinging to a tree shaking water off my sneaker and muttering to myself when you leaned in and lifted my chin with your fingertips and kissed me. It felt so spontaneous, so genuine. The most perfect kiss I could imagine.”

“Like this?” Sliding his hand around my waist, Mitch gathered me into his arms. His mouth captured mine and I caught my breath.

Even after so many years, the shape and glide of his lips felt sweetly familiar. As warm and welcoming as a homecoming, yet at the same time, so sensual and exciting that my body hummed with excitement.

When our lips parted, Mitch blew out a slow breath and held my gaze.

“Yes, only much nicer without the soaker,” I answered in a husky voice I barely recognized, my heart throbbing.

His hand cupping my cheek, he caressed my jaw with his thumb. “You taste just the same, Carly. Sweet and enticing.” His eyes shimmered with tenderness and longing.

Had I been waiting for this all night? Wanting it from the moment I set eyes on Mitch at the Red Lion? Did it matter? I wanted it now. I ached for it.

I slid my hands under his coat collar and pulled him back to me. My eyes drifted closed as his mouth settled again on mine. One of his hands skimmed upward and plunged into my hair, while the other traveled down to splay on the small of my back, tucking me closer against his rigid frame.

The kiss lingered, intense and utterly intoxicating. Tasting him, breathing him in, I lost myself in the spiraling passion between us. With each lush stroke of his mouth on mine, fresh waves of heat pooled low in my belly like a deepening ache.

I tilted my head back to catch my breath, my nerves alight with need, my hands fisted on his collar. “Mitch, we can’t just stay out here kissing.”

“Do you want me to take you home?” His mouth hovered above mine, so close his warm breath fanned my lips.

“I’d rather you take me upstairs to your room,” I murmured, and drew his head down for another kiss.