Rennie shivered and brought Graham’s attention back to the forefront. He pulled her deeper into his hold to try and warm her. “We can go inside if you want,” he suggested.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
He nodded and stood. Once he had his sea legs, he helped Rennie up. “Come on.” Graham held her hand as they walked back into the galley. He locked up while she waited for him with his blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Graham motioned for her to go down the stairs, and he followed her to her bedroom. They both crawled under the covers, clothes and all, and he held her until they both fell asleep.
Graham stretched and opened his eyes to sunlight streaming through the room. He felt for Rennie, only to find her spot vacant and cold. He listened intently for her and could hear her shuffling around in the galley. She wasn’t crying—at least that was what he deduced—so he decided to close his eyes for another few minutes. He was on the cusp of falling back into a deep slumber when the smell of bacon made his stomach growl.
He sat up and moved until his feet were on the ground. He glanced at his attire, and his heart sank at the sight of the black smudges on his shirt. His friend was going through something terrible, and he didn’t know how to help her. Holding her while she cried didn’t seem like enough. Brooklyn would know, but Rennie didn’t want her. She wanted him. And Graham would give her anything she wanted.
What he wanted was a second chance with Rennie, but the timing wasn’t right. That was the only thing they ever got wrong when it came to their lives together—their timing sucked. He would wait.
What wasn’t waiting was his stomach, and as soon as the second wave of bacon permeated the air, he felt the hunger pangs kick in. Graham stopped by his room, used the bathroom, and changed quickly before making his way up the stairs. He found Rennie in the galley kitchen. She hadn’t heard him come up the stairs, so he watched her bob her head to whatever beat played in her head, because the radio wasn’t on, nor the television. She danced, shaking her hips as she worked in the small space, making breakfast.
He cleared his throat and said, “Good morning.”
Rennie startled and looked at him over her shoulder. She smiled. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” she asked, but before he could even respond, she started talking. “I slept like a log once you brought me back to bed. I can’t believe how soothing it is to sleep on a boat. It’s like I was rocked to sleep. No wonder you live on the water.”
“It’s not really the same,” he said. He had no idea why he replied with such a statement. Was he trying to discourage her from staying longer, or was there a hint of encouragement in his tone?
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing, just that the house doesn’t really move like a boat, unless there’s a storm, and then I adjust the mooring, and everything is back to normal.”
“Oh.” Rennie went back to cooking, and Graham felt like an idiot for the way he responded.
“Sorry, Ren.”
“For what?” she asked without looking at him. Graham went to her and placed his hand on her hip to gently turn her toward him.
“I just made what looks to be a perfectly good morning really awkward with my mundane answers. You’re happy, and I don’t want to dampen your mood.”
“You’re fine. I’m fine, Graham Cracker. I should be the one apologizing for last night. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Grief,” he told her.
She shook her head. “It’s like I had to have that meltdown to exorcise the demon or something. Believe me when I tell you I’m relieved.”
Graham wanted to believe her—he did—but he had dealt with enough heartbreak between the accident and his breakup with Monica to suspect Rennie might be hiding her true feelings.
“Do you need any help?” he asked to change the subject.
“No, I’m almost done. Go ahead and sit down; I’ll make you a plate.” He did as she suggested and turned on the small television Bowie had installed in the corner and flipped through the few channels the satellite was able to pick up. He found a news program and left it on even though he wasn’t interested. The background noise should keep his mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t. He imagined Rennie cooking breakfast at his house, wearing nothing more than his T-shirt, and groaned. These thoughts needed to stay in his reserve bank and not at the forefront of his mind.
His thoughts had to change, because they were only going to get him into trouble. He reached for the folded paper and noticed the date was current. “Did you leave the boat this morning?” he asked without looking at her.