“It seems like a fair compromise,” said Alfred when three pairs of astonished eyes fell upon him. “Reckon I should be able to stay there without getting fidgety legs.”

“I’ll help you get it painted up,” said John.

“Me too,” said Annie. “You can take the old Calor Gas heater from here.”

“I’ve got a bed going spare,” said Gemma. She looked at Alfred. “It’s really uncomfortable, almost like sleeping on a table really, only marginally better than sleeping on the floor.”

Alfred smiled.

“Don’t make him too comfortable or I’ll find him bunking down in the barn with the sheep,” said Maeve.

“Better than sleeping with the fishes!” said John, casting a knowing nod in Alfred’s direction. Alfred nodded back.

Maeve and Alfred finished their drinks, and Maeve got up to leave. “Right,” she said. “We’re off. Cheerio!”

Gemma held the door and Maeve backed out, pulling Alfred in his wheelchair, who looked as grumpily content as Annie had ever seen him.

John—begrudgingly—went back upstairs to rest, with Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle in tow.

—

Gemma left at half past two for the school run. Annie switched off the heaters and let her eyes roam over the little café, clean and cozy and ready for whatever tomorrow would bring. She felt a sense of deep satisfaction in her bones. She had never felt surer of where she was supposed to be: here, here at Willow Bay, running the Saltwater Nook café, like Mari had before her. She was even looking forward to winter by the sea: the first of many, she hoped, and all the Christmas festivities that would ensue. She closed the door and turned to find John sitting on the stairs.

“You made me jump,” she said.

“Sorry,” said John, standing up and coming to meet her.

“Are you all right?”

“Not quite, but I will be.”

“Oh? And what has to happen for you to be quite all right?”

“This,” he said. He bent toward her, lifting his hand to gently cup her face, and kissed her. A long, slow, deep kiss.

It was a good kiss. Annie felt dizzy.

“Do you know what I was thinking about when that wave went over me?” he asked.

Annie shook her head slightly, searching his dark gray eyes.

“You. I was thinking about you. I was thinking that I couldn’t bear to drown without seeing your face again. It was the thought of you that made me keep swimming, kept me going through the cliffs. I promised myself that if I made it out alive, I wouldn’t waste another moment. I would tell you how I feel.”

Annie was breathless.

“And how do you feel?” she managed to stammer. He hadn’t taken his eyes off hers and they smoldered now, with something darker. Her pulse quickened.