I looked out over the water. The sun had almost set on another cold December day on the island. There were a few boats skimming the waves, making their way in for the night. I put the truck in reverse, cranked up the heat inside the cab, and made a U-turn out of Shell Point.

There were a few lights glowing on Shirley Lane. The clay pots spilled over with purple and gold pansies. I sighed as I passed the house. It was where everything had started. Again. I knew as long as I lived, I wouldn’t pass that house without thinking about Sierra and that summer. I shook my head and reached for the radio.

I slowed the truck before easing it onto a grassy lane. The grass was mostly brown now except for a few stubborn weeds, which refused to accept summer was long gone. I parked next to the marina office, but left the engine running. It was too cold to start the heating process all over again, and I knew Jojo would have the oysters ready for me.

“Well, look who’s here.” Jojo beamed from behind the counter.

“Hey, darlin’.” I strolled to the counter. “Did Willis get my order together?”

“Sugar, you know it.” Jojo walked out from behind the register and turned to the line of coolers near the door. “How many bushels you need?”

“I think one is plenty.” I withdrew cash from my wallet and placed it on the counter. I grabbed the canvas sack from her grasp. “Tell Willis I said thank you. I heard these were his best this year.”

“He’ll appreciate that, Blake.” She smiled. “Take care, honey.”

I heaved the fifty-pound sack into the bed of the truck and jumped into the cab, ready for the blast of heat. It didn’t matter to me what the temperature reading was on the dash; the cold had settled into all the nooks and crannies of the island. I continued south a few hundred yards. My thumb lightly drummed the top of the steering wheel. I couldn’t help but sing along with The Embers—somehow it made the summer not feel so far away.

I pulled the truck to the sound side of the house. From the windshield, I could see the low glow of a fire on the beach. Good. Cole’s at least got that going.

The oysters had slid to the tailgate. I reached over the side and retrieved the bushel Willis had sacked for me. By now, the sun had settled in the west, and the night sky was cast with a harvest moon that lit up the entire sound.

“Cuz, what kept you so long?” Cole stood on the beach, poking the orange embers with a long fire stick. He had assembled a long sheet of metal over four stacks of cinderblocks that acted as sawhorses. “This fire has been ready for thirty minutes.” The coals burned two feet under the platform.

I held up the canvas bag. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ve got the oysters.” I dropped the sack near Cole’s feet and scanned the empty beach. I took a deep breath of the chilled air.

“I have the champagne!” Emily giggled as she bounded over the grassy yard toward the beach. She held up a green bottle and pointed toward Sierra. “And sparkling cider.”

“I’m holding the good stuff. We are not smacking Moet into the sea.” Sierra smiled at me before my arms wrapped around her, and I buried my head in her shoulder.

“Darlin’, you need to keep me warm tonight.” The words made her purr in my ear.

My hand dropped to her belly where I could feel the small bump under her sweater. I rubbed over the fabric.

“Hey, you two. We have serious oyster roasting and boat christening to do tonight.” Emily wagged her finger at us.

Sierra tilted her head to the side. “We aren’t stopping you.”

“All right. So what’s the game plan? It’s damn cold out here.”

“This bottle is for drinking and celebrating.” Sierra held up the expensive French champagne. “And that one is for the boat.” She pointed to Emily’s bottle.

“Looks like you two covered all the bases.” I reached for the high-end bottle and unwrapped the foil sealing the cork. I looked at Cole. “And what about the oysters?”

“Ten minutes, tops,” Cole announced as he dumped half of the sack onto the metal sheet. A low hissing noise rose from the table when Cole covered the first round with a heavy canvas.

“Let’s make a toast.” Emily withdrew glasses from the bag she had brought to the beach, and held them up for me to pour.

“Thanks.” I tilted the bottle and filled each glass with the chilled beverage. I grabbed the cider for Sierra and handed her a special glass.

“I think you should do it, since you’re the songwriter.” Sierra poked me in the side.

“I’m a QB,” I groaned. “A football player,” I added.

“One who is not in the playoffs,” Cole called out.

Fuck. I didn’t need him needling me about what happened with the Thrashers.

“Songwriter doesn’t equal toast master, but I’ll give it a shot, baby.” I watched as the sharp flames from the fire caught the rise of the champagne’s dancing bubbles.

I cleared my throat. “Here it goes.”

I looked at Sierra and felt my heart swell a little. This was a moment I never saw coming, even if it was one I’d always wanted.

“Cole, man, when you asked me to go in with you on this venture, I could have sat down and listed the pros and cons, run the numbers, and consulted every boat builder Down East, but I didn’t. You asked, and I said yes.” I shuffled my feet in the sand. “I said yes, because you asked.”

Sierra and Emily smiled at each other across the circle.

I continued. “And I’m sure as hell glad I did because I wouldn’t be here tonight. None of us would be celebrating your tenth boat and your five-year exclusive contract with Charleston yacht club if it hadn’t been for you. So, tonight, I know we’re christening her”—I nodded at the vessel anchored along the beach—“but this night is about you bringing all of us together. Without these boats, this business, and you as my family, I wouldn’t have my favorite thing on this island.” I winked at Sierra. “So, here’s to boats, summer, and never giving up.”

“Here, here!” we all said in unison before drinking a few sips.

“Blake, that was beautiful.” Emily hugged me hard.

“I meant it.” I squeezed her again. “Let’s get this party going.” I pulled out my phone and hit play on my beach music playlist.

Cole walked over and slapped me on the back. “I couldn’t have done this without you. You know that?”

I cracked a smile. “I know. You would have been crazy to try it without me.”

It hadn’t been easy opening the doors to the boat barn again. Once I had though, I knew I couldn’t close the place up. Cole deserved to live out his dream, just like I was. So when he had asked if I wanted to re-invest in the family business, I couldn’t turn him down. He needed start-up cash and I promised I’d play the role of silent partner. In the summers I’d be here to work on the boats.

I hadn’t figured out how my dad fit into it. Once I found out he had kept Sierra’s pregnancy a secret from me and that he had been the reason she left, I hadn’t been able to think about him the same way. Part of me wanted to burn the barn down and all his work inside.

Handing it over to Cole helped. I let it go. I focused on what really mattered—Sierra and the baby. The renovations were underway at Lindy’s place. It was ours now. I don’t Sierra knew how happy it made me when she said she wanted to keep the house. I’d pay any expense she wanted to restore it to its original state.

And the nursery was going to be massive. The baby would wake up every day of the summer and see the water. Nothing made either of us happier. I might have a life in professional sports, but my children were going to grow up here in the offseason. They would learn how to respect the water. They’d learn how to respect nature. They’d learn how to respect family.

Sierra and Emily locked arms and huddled closer to the fire. “How long do you think the bromance stuff will go on?” Sierra asked. “I’m starving and freezing.”

Cole walked over to the fire. “All right, ladies, I think these bad boys are ready.” He grabbed a bucket and started shoveling the hot oysters into the empty barrel. “Who wants the first one?”

“I’ll take one.” Emily raced around the side of the roasting station to join Cole.

He slipped on a heavy work glove and began separating the shells. “Here you go. First one of the oyster roast. Hot off the fire.”

Emily smiled at him as he leaned closer, dangling the oyster out of her reach. “Cole, stop.”

I felt Sierra’s gaze as I watched her friend and my cousin. She joined me away from the fire.

“Nice toast.” She bumped my side with her hip.

“You’re the one who said I should try it.” I sipped on the drink. I was enjoying it more than any glass of wine I had ever tried. Too bad Sierra couldn’t have a taste.

“And it was perfect.” She smiled.

I laughed. “You know I almost didn’t think I was going to make it through it.”

Sierra turned toward me, sliding her free hand into mine. “I knew you could do it.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “So, what exactly is your favorite thing on this island?”

“You even have to ask?” I brushed my lips across her mouth. “I’ve never been so happy since you moved back here with me.” I felt the familiar sparks her kisses always stirred. “Part-time, or whatever you call our back and forth to Florida.”

“You weren’t too happy when you found out you had to lug my boxes down ten flights of stairs or when the moving truck got a flat tire in Alabama. Was it worth it?” She batted her eyes at me.

I ran a hand along her face, and held her chin between my thumb and finger. “Darlin’, nothing has ever been more worth it.” I closed the distance between us, and sometime during the kiss, we both lost our glasses.

“Eh-hem. Excuse us,” Emily called. “We have a boat to christen with champagne. Focus, you two.”

“You got it, girl.” I grabbed Sierra by the hand and tugged her toward the shoreline.

Emily held up the bottle of champagne she had chosen for this occasion. Cole snagged it and faced the boat.

“Just like in batting practice,” I called.

He laughed as he pulled the bottle back, focused on the target he selected on the bow, and swung forward with the full force of his arm. We cheered as the bottle shattered along the beach.

“How was that?” Cole turned to face the group.

“Let’s take her out, and then I’m headed inside. It’s damn cold.” I hopped onto the boat.

“I hear ya, man.” Cole placed Emily inside the boat before jogging to the other side to shove her off. Sierra reached for my hand as I helped her step over the side.

“You ok with this?” I asked her. “You can stay here until we get back.”

She shook her head. “No way. I’m in this with you. The boats. The island. Football. All of it.”

I leaned over to steal a kiss, feeling the softness of her lips.

“Good. I’ll get you home soon,” I promised.

It was playoff time. And we had decided to spend some holiday time at the island before heading back to Orlando. I tried not to let the post-season get under my skin. Sierra said it was meant to be this way. We could focus on each other and the baby.

There was always next season.

I stood at the captain’s chair until Sierra walked up to me. I sat her on my lap and steered over her shoulder. Maybe it was a small island, and maybe she didn’t always love it like I did, but I knew Sierra was happy here. We had found something in each other that couldn’t be abandoned or ignored. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what love was.

* * *

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