Read Online Swept Away by Michelle Dalton - Free Book Online

there at all.”
    I sit straight up at that. She’s right! Cynthia was standing right next to me, and I was the one he smiled at, who he remembered. A giant grin spreads over my face.
    â€œWhat is with me?” I moan. “All day I’ve been mood swinging. Elated. Miserable. Happy. Sad. Panicked. Calm. What is up with that?”
    â€œHormones,” Cynthia says, perfectly imitating her mom. That’s what her mother says to explain the inexplicable things Cynthia or her sisters do. Part resignation, part exasperation. Turns out it’s a pretty convenient excuse. Cynthia started using it herself to get out of trouble, particularly with her dad, who turns seven shades of pink at the mere mention of hormones. It’s become our favorite catchphrase to explain the unexplainable—everything from a teacher suddenly getting strict to extreme shifts in the weather.
    â€œHormones,” I agree, giving the word the same treatment. This sets us both laughing hysterically.
    Over my cackling I can hear Mom calling up the stairs. “Hang on,” I tell Cynthia. I open my door and pop out my head. “Yeah?”
    â€œShouldn’t you be getting ready for bed?” Mom says from the foot of the staircase. “It’s another workday tomorrow.”
    â€œGotta go,” I say into the phone.
    â€œKeep me posted,” Cynthia says.
    I nod at Mom and return to the privacy of my bedroom. “As if I wasn’t going to send you hourly bulletins if I ever see him again.”
    â€œYou will.”
    That’s the thing about Cynthia. Her confidence is contagious. At least for a little while. Long enough for me to go to sleep excited about tomorrow.
    A s I coast down Weatherby for my second day of Candy Cane duty, the breeze coming off the water blows strands of hair into my face. They keep sticking to my lip gloss, but I’m in such a good mood I don’t care. I simply flick them away each time it happens. I just hope I’m not wiping off the Blushing Rose gloss each time I do. I forgot to toss it into my bag, since I don’t usually travel with makeup, much to Cynthia’s constant annoyance. At least the shadow, mascara, and shimmer face powder won’t wear off. I’m not so certain about the shimmer. It might be a little much for sitting in a lighthouse all day, but I can always wash it off once I get there.
    Even though I know it’s unlikely that Oliver will come back, I took care not just with my face but with the rest of me too. The jeans that fit great and a cute top Cynthia picked out for me last month to “enhance my assets.” Not exactly sure what assets those might be, but whatever. If Oliver really is a “completist,” then he might come back today to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
    I hope!
    I open up, humming a sea chantey that had been blasting from the open doors of Ahoy, a swimwear shop on Main Street. Once the season really gets under way, Rocky Point goes overdrive on the fishy and Maine Americana. It’s as if summers send Rocky Point back in time, and that’s the way the Regulars like it. They seem to come here to get back to the “good old days,” but truth to tell, I don’t see what’s so great about them. How people lived here in the winters before good heating, television, and cars is beyond me.
    Today as I look around Candy Cane, I try to understand what Oliver finds so appealing. Is he a history buff? Into lighthouses, specifically? Drawn to all things sea-related? I’ve met all of those types of visitors, and I guess I’m even related to one, since Mom loves all that stuff. I can’t remember if Dad did too, but since all my memories are of them happily together in never-ending conversations, I guess he did.
    By noon there have been no visitors, and my stomach is growling. I poke my head out of the lighthouse door. No one. Not Oliver, not a tour bus, not even Mom to take me to