We headed back into the car and then we drove for a while until a town appeared around a curve in the road.
I took in the white-painted buildings with window boxes that held flowers, and a main street that ran straight down to the water.
The ocean was right there, visible at the end of every road, the late afternoon light turning it a deep shifting blue.
We pulled into a parking lot. He cut the engine and got out. Then came to open my door.
The restaurant was on the waterfront, right at the edge of the pier, with pale wood and open windows and the sound of the ocean coming in with every breeze. The rustic wooden tables were spaced generously, candles already lit in ornate seashells even in the late afternoon.
We sat at a table by the window and I took in the water, the last of the
