Free Christmas Catch: A Holiday Novella by The 12 NAs of Christmas, Chelsea M. Cameron Page A

absolutely empty, so he drives through the parking lot and actually onto the dock.
    “What are we doing?” I say as he parks and turns the truck off.
    “Come with me,” he says and we both get out. He goes to the back of the truck and gets out two sets of waders and matching jackets. They’re made of rubber, for fishermen to protect their clothes from getting wet, with boots attached to the waders. I put mine on over my clothes. Sawyer made sure to get ones big enough to fit over my extra layers. Once I have them on, he plunks a matching hat on my head and gets dressed himself. We’re brilliant orange from head to foot, and I’ve never felt like more of a dork.
    “You look adorable,” he says in response to my pout. And then he makes me pose for pictures that he takes with his phone.
    “I want to remember this.”
    Yeah, me too.
    We walk down the dock and he helps me down a ladder and into a dinghy. This can only mean one thing. He starts up the motor and we go just a little ways out and stop right beside a lobster boat called Melyer.
    “It’s for Melanie and Sawyer. This was my Dad’s boat,” he says, pulling me aboard. I’ve never been on a lobster boat before, despite growing up in this town. So many of my classmates worked on them in the summers to earn cash, but there was no way in hell I was going to do that. I would rather have sold my organs.
    But this is different. Sawyer starts the boat up and takes the helm. Is it called the helm on a lobster boat? I have no idea. Apparently, I know nothing about boats.
    But Sawyer does. He’s confident as he steers the boat out of the harbor and into the open ocean, increasing the speed. I stand next to him, watching him as he handles it like he was born to it.
    Very sexy.
    Morning fog hangs over the ocean, but the sun is starting to rise and burn it off. It’s absolutely magical. Sawyer slows the boat and then stops it. All I can see is ocean. The only sound is the waves lapping against the sides of the boat.
    “Wow,” I whisper, not wanting to shatter the calm.
    “This is your present. I wanted you to see what you’ve been missing while you’ve been at Columbia.” He turns and goes to sit on the side of the boat where there’s a bench to stack the traps. I go and sit beside him.
    He’s right, it is cold out here, and I’m glad he made me put on the extra gear so my clothes don’t get wet. Fine way to get hypothermia.
    “After . . . After everything happened with Dad, I came out here almost every day. Mostly during off times when none of the other boats were out. I needed the calm and the solitude. I never told anyone that I was doing it, and no one ever asked or bothered me about it when I would disappear. I could . . . think out here. Like you with your parking spot.” I smile at him and move closer so he can put his arm around me. The cold smell of the ocean can’t cut through his natural Sawyer smell, and he kisses my forehead.
    “I thought about you out here. So many times. I know this is all happening so fast, but . . . I can’t lose you again, Ivy.” He holds my face so I can’t look away from his eyes as he says it.
    “I don’t know how it could work, but I want to try. I want to fight. I was a coward last time, but I’m not anymore. If losing my dad has taught me anything, it’s that you have to hold onto who you care about while you have them, because they could be gone in an instant. I’m not asking for the world. I’m just asking for a second chance.” His words aren’t rehearsed, but I can tell that he’s thought about them hundreds of times before. So have I. His eyes plead with me to give him an answer.
    “I’ve thought about you too. I think about you, all the time. Everything reminds me of you. I always thought about asking Mom for news, or looking you up online. When I left, the only thing I was really devastated to leave behind was you.” I put my hand up and hold his face. It’s wet from the sea spray, and I bet if