CHAPTER TEN
A SPELL OF hot weather brought tourists flocking to Puffin Island. They spilled off the ferry, a riot of color and smiles, overloaded with bags, children, strollers and equipment for all weather. Some came by car, some as foot passengers, and most of them headed for the beaches close to the harbor. The waterfront was crowded, the restaurants full and the locals talked about how this was the best start to a summer season they could remember in a long time.
The bay was busy, the water dotted with boats of all shapes and sizes, from the majestic schooners that Lizzy called pirate ships to sleek racing boats and small pleasure crafts.
“Can we see the puffins?” Lizzy paused on the harbor, watching as a crowd of people queued to board one of the many trips around the island to Puffin Rock. “Ryan said he’d take us.”
“He’s very busy.” It had been over a week since she’d seen him, and she’d been trying desperately to put him out of her mind. It was hard, just as it was hard to think up excuses to stay away from the water.
Emily looked at the boat bobbing in the waves and felt sick. She was getting a little more confident each day, but was still a long way from taking Lizzy on a boat trip. “Is there anything else you’d like to do?”
“Waffles and chocolate milk?”
Everything Lizzy suggested involved Ryan.
After he’d left that night, Emily had switched on her laptop and done what she should have done right from the start. Typed his name into the search engine.
She’d clicked on article after article, and when she’d finally shut down, hours later, her cheeks had been wet from all the tears she’d shed.
He’d told her he wasn’t afraid of emotion, and that was backed up by everything she’d read. His writing was full of emotion. He didn’t just report the facts, he reported the effect on those who were suffering until the reader ceased to be an outside observer and slid into the story. She’d felt the heat, tasted the dust, cried with the mother who had lost a child to a roadside bomb. And she’d read the reports written by others on the accident that had wounded him and killed his friend. And they were glowing reports. As a journalist he’d been respected both by his own profession and the military.
The explosion had been global news.
Exhausted, she’d taken herself to bed and lain awake for hours, thinking about how hard his recovery must have been. Clues to just how hard had been in everything he hadn’t said.
But he’d built a new life. The life he and his friend had planned together.
And that life didn’t include children. It was a responsibility he’d made it clear he didn’t want.
He’d helped her because he owed Brittany. There was nothing more to it than that, and she wasn’t going to do that horribly needy thing of looking for more. A few steamy kisses didn’t mean anything to a man like him. Even without knowing his background, there was a raw physicality to him that told her that a simple sexual relationship was familiar territory to him. And no doubt none of those relationships had included sex with the lights out.
She needed to move on.
Pushing it out of her mind, she dragged herself back to the present.
“How about ice cream?” Trying to do something that would reduce the likelihood of bumping into Ryan, she made an alternative suggestion. “Let’s go to Summer Scoop.”
Visiting the shop had become a routine, and not just because Lizzy loved the ice cream. Emily was keen to support the struggling business. She liked Lisa and sympathized with her situation.
“Chocolate is still my favorite.” Five minutes later Lizzy was licking her cone, the ice cream sliding down her chin. “Can we live in a place that sells ice cream?”
Lisa handed her a napkin. “It’s not the dream it seems, sugar.”
Because it was Saturday, both the twins were hovering. They alternated between “helping” in the store and reading, playing or watching a DVD in the little cottage attached to the business premises while Lisa supervised through an open door.
Knowing how hard it was to keep Lizzy entertained, Emily wondered how she managed it. “It must be hard work.”
Lisa pushed blueberry ice cream into a crisp waffle cone. “The irony is that I came here because I wanted a better life for the kids. I wanted them to live close to nature. I saw us spending time together as a family. But I spend less time with them now than I did when I was living with my mother in Boston.” She handed the cone to Emily. “I’m working, and they’re doing their own thing through that door in the living room. At weekends they ‘help’ in here, but they get bored with that pretty quickly. They entertain each other, but I can’t afford to close, so that I can have a day out with them.”
“Could you employ someone one day a week?”
“We don’t make enough money to pay anyone. One of the freezers broke last week, and that used the last chunk of my savings. You don’t want to hear about this. It’s boring.” Lisa opened a drawer and put a fresh pile of napkins on the counter.
“It’s not boring to me. I’m just sorry your dream isn’t working out the way you wanted it to.”
“I have no one to blame but myself. I had my head in the clouds. No one before me has been able to make this place work, but I thought I’d be different. I like to call it optimism, but my mother says it’s blind stupidity.” That confession came with a smile, but Emily heard the thickening in her voice.
It was that, together with the hint of weary resignation, that made up her mind.
She dropped into a crouch next to her niece. “How would you like to watch a DVD with Summer and Harry?”
Lizzy stared at her. “Now?”
“Yes. They’re just through that door.” She felt a flutter of anxiety and suppressed it. She reminded herself of what Ryan had said about the importance of Lizzy becoming independent. “I’ll be right here, talking to Lisa. We’ll leave the door open.” She could see the halo of Summer’s blond hair through a crack in the door, hear laughter as the twins watched a cartoon.
Lisa looked surprised, but she pushed open the door to the cottage, and moments later Lizzy was happily settled with the twins and a bowl of popcorn.
“Have you noticed how similar Lizzy is to the twins? They could almost be triplets!”
“It’s the hair.” Satisfied that Lizzy was safe, Emily turned back to Lisa. “Tell me the truth. How bad is it?”
Lisa gave a tired shrug. “Bad enough to make me want to eat a vat of chocolate ice cream by myself. I stayed up most of the night looking at the numbers, but they were still the same this morning. Looking at them doesn’t change the fact this dream is over for me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I keep hoping and putting off the decision, but I’m not going to make it through another winter. It will take me a while to sell this place, and I can’t afford two places. I don’t know which is worse—giving up on my dream or moving back home with my mother and hearing her say ‘I told you so.’ She makes me feel about the same age as the kids.”
“Is there no alternative?”
“Not that I can see.” Lisa’s eyes filled, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. “Sorry. I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You came in for an ice cream, and instead of a blob of blueberry I give you a dollop of self-pity topped off with liquid misery. I don’t charge for that, by the way. It’s on the house.”
“I asked the question.” Emily grabbed a handful of napkins and handed them over. “Here. Blow.”
“I don’t want the kids to see me like this. You know what it’s like.” Lisa blew her nose hard. “You try and keep a bright smile on your face, no matter how bad things are. And when I tuck them in at night I realize that none of it matters really as long as I have them. They’re the best thing in my life.” She gave a faint smile. “Thanks for listening.”
“I can do more than listen. I might be able to help, if you’d like me to.” Emily glanced around the store, looking at all the unused space. “You say that no one has been able to make this business pay. Did anyone ever try doing anything different with it?”
“Different? You mean apart from sell ice cream?”
“There’s more than one way of selling ice cream.” Emily walked to the door and stared through the glass to the busy harbor. “There are plenty of people out there. The island is busy.”
“But the tourists don’t always come in here, so that doesn’t help me.”
Emily watched the flow of people. “Because they walk straight off the ferry and turn left to the beach.”
“On a hot day, yes. And to walk past Summer Scoop, they need to turn right. They sometimes call in at Swim and Sail or visit the Lobster Hatchery, but they don’t come down this far.” Lisa’s shoulders sagged. “I’m doomed.”
“You’re not doomed. Every tourist that arrives on that ferry is a potential customer. We just need to think about how to tempt people in.”
“I was thinking of taking my clothes off.” Lisa gave another weak smile. “Just kidding. That would scare them away. I did think of putting a sign up by the ferry if they’d let me, but then I decided it wouldn’t help. Folks just want to head to the beach. And you know what the weather is like in this place—it’s sunny now, but we get our share of fog and rain, and then people are thinking about shelter, not ice cream. They want something to do with fractious children.”
Still thinking, Emily turned. “Fractious children?”
“Yes. You’re stuck in a rental property or a hotel watching the rain sheet down or trying to see through mist thicker than the steam from a kettle. You put on the same DVD and then the kids start fighting, and it’s all ‘Mom, I’m bored.’ Puffin Island is an outdoor place. There’s stuff you can do in the rain, but drying clothes every day can be exhausting.”
Emily strolled across the room, her mind exploring various options. Usually she worked as part of a team of people, and the businesses were large corporations. Her contribution merged with those of others, like a single drop of rain blending with the ocean, unidentifiable and yet still part of the whole. “You have plenty of space.”
“It needs redecorating, but I don’t have the funds for it and I can’t afford to close while it’s done.”
“Maybe we could do something imaginative with the space. Something that encourages people to come in when it’s raining. Offer something they can’t get anywhere else on the island.”
“I don’t have the cash to invest in a new venture.”
“It won’t be a new venture. Just a few additions to the old one. Tell me about the business itself. Who do you rent the building from?”
“Someone who knows how to bleed a person dry.”
“And how many different types of ice cream do you stock?”
“Thirty, but not all of them sell well.”
“Thirty?” It sounded like a lot to Emily. Her head was crowded with ideas and questions. “We need to start at the beginning. Those figures that kept you up all night. Would you share them with me?” Back in her comfort zone, she knew what was needed. Here, finally, was something she knew how to do. “If you’re willing to share it, I’d like everything you can give me on your business. Turnover, profit, loss—any information you have.”
Lisa blinked. “If you give me your email address I’ll send some spreadsheets to you. There isn’t much profit.”
“Yet.” Emily scribbled down her email. “We’re going to change that.”
“Do you really think you might be able to help?”
“I hope so. Helping businesses used to be my job.” She didn’t add that most of the businesses she’d worked for had been faceless, multinational corporations.
If anything, the small, personal nature of the business made success all the more imperative.
If this business failed, it directly affected a family.
Lisa looked uncomfortable. “I can’t afford to pay you, unless you call free ice cream payment.”
“If it’s blueberry, then the answer is yes. And no payment is necessary, but if it makes you feel more comfortable you can pay me in advice.”
“Advice?”
“I have no idea how to raise a six-year-old,” Emily said frankly. “You have two of them, and they seem healthy and happy, so you must be doing a lot right. And you seem to do it without turning into a ball of anxiety, so any tips would be welcome.”
Lisa gave a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously? That’s what you want in exchange for saving my business? You’ve been a mother as long as I have.”
Emily hesitated. “No,” she said finally, “I haven’t. Lizzy is my niece.” She looked around for somewhere to sit. “Do you know what you need in here? Some stools and a little bar where people can sit indoors if they want to.” But in the absence of seating, she leaned against the wall, and ten minutes later she’d told Lisa an abbreviated version of the story. All she left out was Lizzy’s true identity. That, she hadn’t trusted to anyone except Ryan and Agnes.
“So you’d never even met Lizzy until a couple of weeks ago?”
“That’s right. And I am messing it up.”
“I’m sure you’re not.”
Emily thought about the incident on the beach. Of the number of times Lizzy had asked if they could go and see the puffins and she’d refused. “Trust me, I am.”
Lisa was about to say something when the door opened, and Ryan strolled in.
Emily felt her legs melt beneath her. The sensation of control left her. One glance and she was like a teenager with a serious infatuation, except that she’d never felt anything as intense as this as a teenager.
It was the first time they’d seen each other since that evening at her house.
She knew she owed him an apology but had been too much of a coward to seek him out and say what needed to be said.
He paused on the threshold, his gaze locked on hers. She felt a rush of hunger, an awareness so sharp it made her stomach knot, that same white heat that came when he touched her. It felt as if they were the only two people in the room.
Except that they weren’t.
“Ryan!” Lisa walked across to him, apparently oblivious to the electric atmosphere. “Emily is going to help me think of ways to boost the business.”
“That’s good to know.” He pushed the door shut. “And it relates to why I’m here.”
Emily wondered if he had the same effect on all women and then noticed Lisa’s pink cheeks and decided that, yes, of course he did. Ryan Cooper was a sexy guy. No woman was likely to miss that.
She wiped her fingers on the napkin. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk.”
“Don’t go.” Ryan strolled across to the freezer and scanned the rows of ice cream. “I have a business proposition for you, Lisa. We’d like to start using your ice creams at the Ocean Club.”
Emily felt a rush of gratitude. Without looking at Lisa’s finances, she had a feeling that it might not make enough of a difference to keep Summer Scoop afloat, but at least it was a positive step. And he’d taken it.
Lisa’s face suggested that any good news was worth celebrating. “Seriously?”
“It’s good ice cream. You’ll need to talk to Anton about flavors and quantities.”
“I’ll do that. And thank you.” Lisa looked as if she was about to hug him. “Could I offer you a celebratory scoop?”
“Thanks, but after six o’clock my preference is for a cold beer. I’m meeting Alec in ten minutes at the Ocean Bar. That’s not the only reason I’m here.” His gaze slid to Emily. “We’re having a lobster bake on South Beach next Saturday.”
“I know.” Lisa brightened. “I’ve booked tickets for the three of us. The twins really enjoyed it last year, and the weather is promising to be lovely. Emily, you should come. Lizzy will love it.”
A beach party? She couldn’t think of anything worse. People. Distractions. Everyone so busy having fun that they failed to notice when a young child was in trouble. “I can’t. Skylar is coming for the weekend.”
“Bring her, too.” Ryan’s tone told her he knew exactly what she was thinking, and his next words confirmed it. “We always employ a couple of lifeguards for our beach parties, and not that many people venture into the water once the sun goes down. Too cold.” He and Lisa discussed a few more details, and then he gave Emily a nod and strolled out of the shop.
Lisa sighed. “With twins, aged six, I don’t think about sex much, and then a guy like him walks in, and suddenly I can’t help my mind from drifting.”
Emily was about to say “who wouldn’t” and stopped herself. There were some things she still wasn’t willing to share. “I’m glad he’s going to stock your ice cream.”
“Me, too, although what I’d really like to do is to serve it on his naked body. Not that I want a relationship,” Lisa added hastily, “but a few hours of mind-blowing sex with Ryan Cooper would make me forget my troubles.”
Or add to your troubles, Emily thought.
She owed him an apology, and the longer she left it, the harder it would be.
Making a decision, she turned to Lisa. “Would you watch Lizzy for just five minutes? There’s something I need to do.”
*
RYAN HAD WALKED as far as the harbor when he heard her calling his name.
“Ryan, wait!” There was an urgency to her voice, and he turned quickly, forgetting his intention to keep his distance. The moment he saw her he wanted to drag her against him and kiss her until both of them forgot the time of day. To make sure he didn’t touch her, he thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Is something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” She was slightly breathless. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For the things I said. For accusing you of deceiving me. I—I overreacted. I understand why you did what you did.” She was building bridges while he was trying to widen the gulf between them.
“You were protecting your child.”
“You’ve been nothing but kind to me since I arrived here, and I should have trusted you.”
She’d asked for honesty, so he decided to give it to her. “I’m not kind, Emily. Don’t make that mistake. My sister will tell you I’m a selfish, stubborn s—” He caught himself and then gave a short laugh. “I was editing it for children, and then I realized that for once we’re on our own. No child.”
She glanced at the hordes of tourists spilling from the ferry and gave him a hesitant smile. “Not exactly on our own.”
He was grateful for the crowds. Only the knowledge that he’d be arrested for indecency stopped him doing what he wanted to do. “So you left Lizzy with the twins. Good decision. Lisa is a responsible person, and the twins are sweet kids.”
“They are.” Her gaze slid to his. “I didn’t think you liked kids, Ryan Cooper.”
“I like them when they belong to someone else.”
“I was talking to Lisa about the business.” She was earnest and serious, but it made no difference because he already knew how much passion was simmering beneath that modest shirt. She dressed to hide her body, but curves like hers weren’t easily disguised, and he’d already discovered what was underneath her clothes. He could still feel the dip of her small waist and the fullness of her breasts. He could taste the sweet flavor of her mouth as she’d opened to him, and he wanted to taste it again. He wanted to drag her into the nearest empty side street and indulge in the sort of sex she’d never be able to describe as “nice.”
Realizing she was waiting for an answer, he cleared his throat. “That was kind of you.”
“Not really.” She looked uncertain. “It’s probably driven by a selfish need to feel competent at something I’m doing. That certainly isn’t child rearing. I need a crash course.”
Her insecurity tugged at him. He remembered feeling the same way a million times.
“Anyone who feels competent at child rearing is deluding themselves. If it’s going well, then you’d better realize it could change at any time. Just when you think you’ve got something nailed, they hit another phase, and suddenly you have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Was that how it was with Rachel?” Her earnest gaze made him slide deeper into the hole he’d dug for himself.
“Yeah. Losing my parents coincided with a difficult phase, so we never knew whether she was exhibiting grief or whether it was just normal behavior. We stumbled through it, making it up as we went along.”
“I’m worried my lack of skills might be psychologically damaging.”
He was pretty sure that being the child of Lana Fox would have done far more damage psychologically, but he kept that thought to himself. “I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”
“I ordered a ton of books, but so far I haven’t had time to read them.”
He could imagine her, focused on the internet, reading all the back cover copy in an attempt to decide which book would guarantee a safe future for Lizzy. “Parents never do. They’re too busy being parents. And I’m not sure what books can teach you that your instincts can’t.”
“I’m not sure I have the right instincts.” Her eyes were wide with uncertainty. “I know I don’t have the right feelings for her, but I can protect her. That’s my job. I’m trying to learn what she needs.”
He wondered why she didn’t recognize the feelings that were so obviously spilling over inside her. She had so much love to give it was like watching a balloon ready to burst.
Yet another reason to keep his distance.
“What she needs,” he said slowly, “is to have some fun and lead a normal life with you in the background to guide her. Let her do the things other kids her age are doing.”
A dimple appeared in the corner of her mouth. “You’re saying that because you want to recruit people for your lobster bake.”
He suddenly realized how much harder the evening would be if she turned up to the lobster bake. “You’re right. Forget it. I know a party on a beach would be your idea of a nightmare. You should stay away.”
*
“WE ARE GOING to the lobster bake.”
Skylar glanced up from the beads she was threading with Lizzy. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Determined to do this before she could change her mind, Emily grabbed a large beach bag and started stuffing things inside. She had no idea what was needed for a trip to the beach, so she improvised, ignoring the part of her brain that told her she should be packing resuscitation equipment. “Get changed. Pack a sweater.”
“We’re going to the beach?” Lizzy erupted with excitement. “Can I take my bucket?”
Emily felt her stomach roll, but she reached for the bucket and stuffed it into the bag before she could think of all the reasons not to. “It’s in. Anything else? Don’t forget Andrew.”
Skylar’s eyebrows rose as Lizzy went running from the room. “Who is Andrew? Please, tell me he’s some hot guy you have chained in your wardrobe for your nighttime pleasure.”
“Andrew is the bear. He has to come everywhere.” Some things she was learning.
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed.” Her friend sat back in the chair. “You are a different person.”
“I learn from my mistakes. I only forget a bear once.”
“I was talking about the beach.”
“Oh.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I realized that I have a responsibility to teach her to be safe around water, and avoiding it isn’t going to achieve that.” Emily added a pretty beach towel to the bag. “If I’m not careful, I’ll make her scared and I don’t want that.”
“You’re going to teach her to swim?”
“No. I can’t swim myself.” She thought about Ryan’s offer and dismissed it. There was no way she was putting as much as a toe in the water, but she was prepared to go to a lobster bake on the beach. That would be a start.
It had been Ryan’s parting remark that had been responsible for her change of heart.
A party on a beach would be your idea of a nightmare.
But not Lizzy’s. And why should Lizzy be made to suffer because she was freaked out by water? The last thing she wanted to do was pass her phobia on to the child.
Lizzy came back downstairs wearing pink sparkly flip-flops. “Can we make a necklace to wear to the beach?”
“Great idea.” Skylar pushed a box of beads toward her and glanced at Emily. “We’re fine here if you want to go and change.”
Leaving Lizzy to make jewelry with Skylar, Emily walk out of the kitchen, but her friend’s voice followed her up the stairs.
“Emily? Don’t wear black.”