CHAPTER FIVE
EMILY ROSE TO sunshine and blue skies after another night where sleep had barely paid a visit. Switching on her phone, she found a voice mail from Skylar asking how she was.
Ryan Cooper’s dark, handsome features swam into her vision. Last night her anxieties about being responsible for Lizzy had been punctuated by thoughts of the calm way he’d dealt with her mini meltdown.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she texted Skylar, doing okay, thanks. She knew better than to mention Ryan to her friend, an incurable romantic. She sent a similar message to Brittany, who had asked the same question in a text sent in the early hours, and then slid out of bed.
Lizzy was still asleep, so she took a quick shower in Kathleen’s pretty bathroom. Afterward she secured her hair on top of her head and reached for another pair of black tailored pants that were the staple of her wardrobe.
Sooner or later she was going to have to do something about that. She didn’t own clothes suitable for casual beach living.
It felt strange not to be living her life checking the time and syncing calendars.
In New York her working day would have started hours ago. If she’d been in the office she would have been at her desk by six in the morning. If seeing clients, she would probably have been thirty-thousand feet up in the air flying between meetings. Her life had been a series of stays in faceless hotel rooms and endless work on projects that would never be remembered by anyone. There had been no time to stand still, and she realized that the furious pace of her life had stopped the past settling on her.
Neil had wanted her to slow down and invest in their relationship.
She’d had nothing to invest. Emotionally, she was bankrupt.
She took nothing and had nothing to give. Which was presumably why she had felt nothing when he’d ended it.
Wondering how her carefully ordered life could have spun so wildly out of control, she walked downstairs, brewed coffee and unlocked the door to the garden. She stood, breathing in the aroma of good coffee, absorbing the warmth. Here, the sound of the birds almost drowned out the sound of the sea.
It was a sun trap, sheltered from the whip of the wind and designed as a sanctuary for nature. Kathleen had planted carefully, perennials clustered together in a haze of purples, blues and yellows to attract the bees. Wildflowers, moss and fern grew between rocks, and butterflies danced across petals dappled by sunlight.
It was a perfect peaceful spot. There had been summers when she’d spent hours curled up on one of the chairs reading, lost in worlds that weren’t her own.
“Aunt Emily?”
She turned to see Lizzy standing there, eyes sleepy, her hands holding tightly around the bear.
“Hi.” Emily softened her voice. “You slept?”
“Can we go to the beach?”
The fleeting calm left her. “Not today.” Sooner or later she was going to have to face that challenge, but not yet. Braced for an argument, she was relieved to hear the sound of a car. “That will be Ryan. He’s bringing breakfast.”
“Waffles?”
“Let’s find out.” She should probably have been pushing healthy food, but she told herself there was plenty of time for that. Reluctantly she left the tumbling tranquility of the coastal garden and walked to the front door.
Ryan stood there, one large hand holding several bags stuffed with groceries, the other holding the lead of a thoroughly overexcited dog, a spaniel with eager eyes and soft floppy ears. “Sit. Sit! Do not run into the house. Do not jump up—” He broke off as the dog sprang at Emily and planted his paws on her thighs. “Sorry. I think you can see who is in charge.” He dumped the bags on the porch, reached out and hauled the excited dog away from her, but Emily dropped to her knees, unable to resist those hopeful eyes and wagging tail.
“You’re gorgeous.” She crooned, talked nonsense, smoothed satiny soft fur with her hand and was rewarded with more affection than she could ever remember receiving in her life before. When the dog planted its paws on her lap and tried to lick her face, she put her hands on all that scrabbling warmth and laughed. “He’s yours?”
“It’s a she and, no, not mine. A dog is a responsibility, and I’m not interested in anything that dictates the way I live my life.” But his hand was gentle as he removed the wriggling animal from Emily’s lap. “Calm down. She doesn’t recognize either of those words, by the way. Her vocabulary is a work in progress. So far food is the only word she’s sure about.”
“Who does she belong to?”
“My grandmother. Unfortunately she had her hip done last winter and hasn’t fully recovered her mobility, so walking Cocoa is now my job. I try and delegate, but we’re busy at the Ocean Club today, so she had to come with me. I thought she could play in the garden while we have breakfast.”
A week ago she’d had neither dog nor child in her life. Now she had both. “We’re keeping you from your work.”
“My staff will thank you. They have more fun when I’m not there.”
Taking advantage of his lapse in concentration, the dog darted into the cottage, paws sliding on the floor, and cannoned into Lizzy who was standing in the hallway holding her bear.
Unsure how Lizzy felt around dogs, Emily reached her in two strides and scooped her up. “Her name is Cocoa and she won’t hurt you.” The child was rigid in her arms, and she wondered if lifting her had been a mistake. Should she have lifted Cocoa instead? She was about to lower her when she felt those skinny arms slide around her neck and tighten. Silken curls brushed against her cheek, and she felt warm breath brush against her neck as Lizzy burrowed into her shoulder in an achingly familiar gesture. Something woke and stirred deep inside her, and Emily closed her eyes.
Not now.
This wasn’t the time to start remembering.
“Is she all right?” Ryan made a grab for the dog. “You are a bundle of trouble. My grandmother thought a dog would keep her youthful, but this animal has put ten years on me.”
Dragging her mind back to the present, Emily lowered Lizzy gently, and dog and child stared at one another.
The dog whined and lay down on her belly at the little girl’s feet.
Ryan’s eyebrows lifted. “I guess we know who wields the power. Nice work, Lizzy. She likes you. From now on, you’re in charge. Put your hand out and let her sniff you.”
The dog stood up, tail wagging, and thrust her damp nose into the child’s palm.
Lizzy smiled. The first smile Emily had seen since she’d picked her up at the airport along with a suitcase. One suitcase, but more baggage than one small person should have to carry alone.
Emily licked dry lips. Right now it was her own baggage that was troubling her.
Grateful for the distraction provided by the dog, she retrieved the bags Ryan had abandoned on the step and carried them through to the kitchen.
He followed her. “You didn’t sleep.”
“How do you know that?”
“Pale face. Dark circles. It’s a dead giveaway. Don’t worry, I have the perfect gift for you.” He dipped his hand into one of the bags and pulled out two tall cups stamped with the swirling logo of the Ocean Club. “Iced cappuccino with an extra shot made by Kirsti’s fair hand.”
Emily reached for the cup gratefully. “I might love you.”
He grinned. “Don’t threaten me so early in the morning.” He sprawled in the nearest chair, coffee in his hand, the bags abandoned on the table. “So, you were awake all night wondering how many people saw that newspaper.”
“Not just that. I’m used to city noises. I can’t sleep here.” She hadn’t slept a full night since the phone call that had given her a child she wasn’t qualified to raise.
“Most people find the sound of the sea soothing.”
She wasn’t most people. “What else is in the bags? Please, tell me it’s a month’s supply of iced cappuccino.”
“Better. You said you didn’t have time to stock up, so I thought I’d help. Here—” he pushed a bag toward her “—start with that one.” He glanced over his shoulder as Lizzy came into the room with Cocoa. “What’s your favorite color, Lizzy?”
“Pink.”
“Then this is your lucky day.” He pulled something pink from another bag and handed it to her. “It’s a hat. I thought when you were out in town, you might like to wear it.” His gaze flickered to Emily. “To keep the sun out of your eyes.”
And prying eyes away from her face, Emily thought, as she loaded the fridge and cupboards. Smart thinking. She wished she’d thought of it herself.
“What would you have done if she’d said blue was her favorite color?”
Ryan dipped his hand back in the bag and produced a blue one.
Lizzy clutched the pink one possessively. “I like this one. What do the words say?”
“Do you recognize any of the letters?”
“The writing is curly.” Lizzy stared hard and spelled out a few letters. “It says something Cl-ub.”
“Ocean. It says Ocean Club.” Ryan traced the words with his finger. “It’s a very special hat. Only people who have eaten waffles on the terrace can have one.”
Emily was touched. “Thank you. That was thoughtful.”
His gaze connected briefly with hers, and she felt that same ripple of awareness she’d felt on the first day. For a moment she stood, mesmerized by the unapologetic interest in those dark eyes. She had no idea how to respond. Her relationship with Neil had been comfortable, her emotions and feelings around him safely predictable. He’d never threatened her heart rate or her equilibrium. Ryan threatened both, and he knew it.
He turned his attention back to Lizzy. “Keep the brim pulled low, and it will keep the sun off her face. Not that I think there’s much risk of exposure.”
Emily understood that the “exposure” he referred to wasn’t solar driven.
Lizzy tugged it onto her head. “I like it.”
“Do you know Cocoa’s favorite game?” He dipped his hand into another bag and pulled out a ball. “Fetch. Take her into the garden and throw the ball. She’ll bring it back to you.”
Child, ball and dog tumbled into the garden to play while Emily stared dizzily at the image of her new life.
A month earlier she’d been living in Manhattan. Jobless, admittedly, but with plans and ambitions. At least two companies had made positive noises about employing her. When she’d thought about the future, it hadn’t looked like this.
It was like booking a flight to Europe and finding yourself in the middle of the African desert, unprepared and unequipped.
“I didn’t know she couldn’t read fluently. I don’t even know what age most children start to read.”
“It varies. Rachel was reading by four. Others take longer, but as long as they get there in the end, I don’t see why it matters.”
“You know a lot about children.” And she hadn’t expected that. He seemed like the type of man who saw children as nothing more than an inconvenient by-product of sex. And then something occurred to her, something that made her stomach lurch. “Are you divorced? Married?”
“You think I left my wife in bed to come here and eat breakfast with you? You have a low expectation of relationships, Emily. And I’m not married.” He looked at her in a way that made her heart beat faster and her insides melt, but what really worried her was the sudden and unexpected lift of her mood that came from the knowledge he was single.
Why should she care that he was single?
Her life was already complicated enough, and when she eventually got around to thinking about relationships again, it wouldn’t be with a man like him.
“You’re comfortable with young children. The sort of comfortable that usually comes from having them.”
“So now you’re asking if I spent my wild youth populating Maine?”
He was attractive and charming. She had little trouble believing he’d had a wild youth.
She watched as he unpacked the last of the bags. She was aware of every tiny detail of him, from the flex of shoulder muscle to the scar visible on the bronzed skin above his collarbone.
Feeling her scrutiny, he turned his head, and his gaze met hers. Slowly, he put the bag down, as if he could no longer remember why he was holding it.
Heat rushed through her, infusing her cheeks with livid color.
Oh, God, she was having sex thoughts about a man she barely even knew.
She felt as if she’d been caught watching porn.
“Did you ask me a question?” His voice was roughened, his eyes fixed on hers, and she knew he’d forgotten the conversation.
She’d forgotten it, too. “Sex. I mean, populating Maine,” she stammered. “Children, yes, that was it. Children.”
His gaze held hers steadily. “Children have never been on my wish list.”
“So you don’t have experience?”
“I have tons of experience.”
“Nieces? Nephews?”
“Siblings. Three of them. All younger.” He reached for the bottle of maple syrup he’d brought with him. “I was thirteen when my parents were killed. The twins, Sam and Helen, were nine, and Rachel was four. It was a typical Maine winter. Snow, ice and no power. They collided with a tree. It was all over before anyone could get to them.” He spoke in a modulated tone that revealed all of the facts and none of the feelings.
She didn’t know what she’d expected to hear, but it hadn’t been that.
The story saddened her on so many levels. It proved that even happy families weren’t immune to tragedy.
“I’m sorry.”
“My grandmother moved in and took over parenting, but three kids were a challenge, and her health has never been good.”
“Four.” Emily put down the loaf of bread she’d unpacked. “You were a child, too.”
“I left childhood behind the day my parents were killed.” His face was expressionless. “I remember the police coming to the door and the look on my grandmother’s face when she told me what had happened. The others were asleep, and we decided not to wake them. It was the worst night of my life.”
She knew exactly how he would have felt because she’d felt it, too, that brutal loss of someone who was part of you. Like ripping away flesh and muscle down to the bone, the wound going so deep it never really healed. Eventually it closed over the surface, leaving bruises and scars invisible to the naked eye.
“How did you cope?”
“I don’t know if you’d describe it as coping. I just got up every day and did what needed to be done. I helped get them up in the morning before I went to school and came home at lunchtime to give my grandmother some respite. Bedtime was fun. The twins slept in bed with my grandmother for months, which left me with Rachel. She clung to me like a monkey for the first two years after our parents were killed. In the end I dragged her bed into my room because I was getting no sleep, and my grades were dropping.”
She studied those broad shoulders, her mind trying to construct the boy he was then from the man he was now. She imagined him cradling his little sister while struggling with his own loss. “Lizzy has been sleeping in the bed with me.”
His glance flickered to hers. “Yeah, she probably feels safer that way. She’s afraid you might disappear, too.”
Emily didn’t say that she felt like a fraud. Unworthy of the trust Lizzy had placed in her.
“But you had three siblings—so much for you to manage.”
“We weren’t on our own with it. The islanders pulled together. We didn’t cook a meal for the first year. They set up a rotation, and every day something would appear. Things got easier once Rachel started school and the twins were teenagers. Thanks to our background, they were pretty independent, and there was always someone to turn to if they had problems.”
He’d had a web of support. He’d suffered, but he hadn’t been alone.
Her first experience of loss had been suffered alone.
Disturbed by her own feelings, she took her cappuccino to the French doors that opened from the kitchen on to the pretty garden. Lizzy was chasing around the grass with the dog.
Not in a million years would she have thought to give Lizzy a pet. The grief counselor had advised her not to make any changes, to allow Lizzy time to adjust, but watching child and dog rolling around the garden simply proved there were no rules for handling grief. You did whatever helped you get through another day.
She turned and looked at Ryan. “Where are they now? Your siblings?”
“Rachel is a teacher at Puffin Elementary. She loves island life. Loves the water and loves kids. In the summer she works at Camp Puffin on the south of the island. She teaches kayaking. Sam is a doctor in Boston, and Helen works as a translator for the United Nations in New York. They turned out okay, considering all the mistakes I made.” He said it with humor, but everything he told her somehow served to underpin her own sense of inadequacy.
“Did you read a lot of parenting books?”
“None. I relied on intuition and, as a result, screwed up repeatedly.”
And yet it had been intuition that had driven him to return the bear and bring the dog for a visit, something she was sure would never have occurred to her. There had never been a place for animals in her life.
“Did you ever think you couldn’t do it?” The words tumbled out, revealing more than she’d intended to reveal, and Ryan gave her a long, steady look.
“Is this about me or you?”
Her hand shook on the cup, and she put it on the nearest countertop. “Did you ever worry that you wouldn’t be able to keep them safe?”
“Safe from what?”
“Everything.” Her mouth felt as if she’d run a marathon through the desert. “There are dangers everywhere.”
“I made plenty of mistakes, if that’s what you’re asking. Fortunately, kids are resilient. They survived the culinary disasters, the laundry mistakes, the fact I couldn’t sew and didn’t have a clue about child development. Rachel followed me everywhere. I think she was afraid I might disappear like our parents.”
She tried to imagine it. The teenage boy and the little girl. “It must have been a wrench when you left to go to college.”
“Are you kidding?” He gave a short laugh. “After spending my teenage years with three kids crawling all over me, I was so desperate to escape this place I would have swum to the mainland if that was the only way to leave the island. By then I had my bedroom back, but I was looking forward to a night that didn’t start with reading Green Eggs and Ham.”
“You didn’t miss them?”
It was a moment before he answered. “I loved them, but, no, I didn’t miss them. I badly needed to get away and have a life that didn’t include school plays and parent-teacher conferences. My grandmother had help from the other women in her group and several of the islanders. In a way, they were an extended family. They had rotations for babysitting, collecting from school. When there were school events, Rachel had all of them in the front row.”
It made her smile. “This was the same group who were meeting for book club the other night?”
“Yeah. And Kathleen, of course.”
“You had a great deal of responsibility at a young age. That’s why you’re not married?”
He laughed. “Let’s just say I value my independence. The ability to come and go as I please. I don’t plan on giving that up anytime soon.”
Emily picked up her coffee, pulled out one of the pretty blue kitchen chairs and sat down. Through the open door she could see Lizzy throwing the ball over and over again while the dog bounded after it, tail wagging. “The first time I met Kathleen, I couldn’t believe she was real. I’d never met anyone like her. She was so kind and genuine and interested. She never expected anyone to conform. She truly valued individuality.”
“Yes. She was a special woman with a gift for reading people.”
“I barely spoke on my first visit.” Emily took a sip of coffee. “I was overwhelmed by everything. The exchange of ideas. Laughter. It was alien to me because my home life was nothing like that.”
If he was wondering how her home life was, he kept the questions to himself. “You came often?”
“Every summer. I had nowhere else to go, and Skylar would do just about anything to avoid going home, so Brittany invited us here.”
“It wasn’t enough to be together at college?”
Emily finished her coffee and put the cup down. “When Brittany invited me into her room on that first day, I wondered how on earth I’d survive living next to someone as volatile as her. Skylar arrived a couple of minutes later, dropped off by the family chauffeur rather than her parents because they thought she was throwing away her life studying art when she could have been a lawyer. I took one look at her clothes and assumed we’d have nothing in common. I admired her dress, trying to be polite, and she told me she’d made it herself for less than ten dollars. Then Brittany took a call from her lawyer about her divorce while we sat open-mouthed. I assume you know all about that as you’re friends?”
He didn’t look at her. “Yeah, I know.”
“She was a mess, but in a way it broke the ice. Right from the start there were no barriers. We talked until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. At the beginning, all we had in common was that we’d been let down by the people closest to us. Maybe it was a sense of isolation that brought us together. I don’t know, but we understood each other. Our friendship grew from there.”
“I can’t believe our visits didn’t overlap.”
“Maybe we didn’t notice each other.” Her heart thudded uncomfortably as his gaze locked on hers.
“I would have noticed you.”
“Ryan—”
“I would have noticed you.” His voice was soft, his eyes fixed on her face with such unwavering attention that she felt something uncurl deep inside her.
Most people looked at another person and saw the surface. Ryan ignored the surface and looked deeper, as if he’d learned that the face someone presented to the world had no more substance than a picture.
He hadn’t touched her, and yet her skin tingled and her body heated.
The tense, delicious silence was broken by Lizzy, who came back into the kitchen, the dog at her ankles. “Can she stay with us?”
With visible effort Ryan transferred his gaze from Emily to the child.
“I have to take her back to my grandmother, but I’ll bring her to see you again soon.” He leaned forward and picked up the final bag. “I’ve brought you some things to keep you busy.” He pulled out a bucket and spade in bright sparkly pink. “You are living next to one of the best beaches on the island. You’re going to want to make the most of that.”
And just like that, the mood was shattered.
Emily stared at the bucket, numb, while Lizzy reached for it.
“Emily doesn’t like the beach.”
Pulling herself together, Emily stood up. “We’ve been busy, that’s all. Maybe in a few days.”
“I could go by myself.”
“No. You mustn’t go near the water.” The words came out in a rush and she saw Ryan’s eyes narrow. “I— We— Let’s take a few more days to settle in and then we’ll see. The bucket is a thoughtful gift, Ryan. And the hat was a great idea.”
What wasn’t a great idea was a trip to the beach.
She knew she wasn’t ready for that.
She wasn’t sure she ever would be.
*
SKYLAR ARRIVED LATE Friday afternoon, bringing an explosion of color and city sophistication to their peaceful existence. “I’ve brought provisions.” She winked at Emily, delved into the bag and pulled out a parcel that she handed to the child.
Lizzy looked at her, dazzled by the halo of golden hair and the bright smile. Skylar wore a cluster of silver bangles on her wrists, and they clinked together as she moved her arms. Lizzy lasted five minutes before climbing onto a chair to take a closer look.
“They’re shiny.”
“They’re silver. Want to try one on?” Sky slid one off her arm. “I made them.”
Lizzy was wide-eyed with awe. “How?”
“It’s what I do. I make jewelry.” She made it sound like a fun hobby, but Emily knew Skylar was starting to make ripples, not just in the jewelry world but also with her glass. She’d recently had a small exhibition in New York, showing not only glass and jewelry, but also ceramics and some of her artwork.
Lizzy fingered the bracelets. “Could I make them?”
“Yes. Not silver, but there are other types of jewelry that are just as pretty. We’ll make something tomorrow. The first stage is always design. Do you have paper and coloring pens?”
Lizzy shook her head and Sky smiled. “Look in the white bag. There are glitter pens underneath the fairy wings and tiara.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Why not a cowboy outfit?”
“Wanting to be a fairy princess is a perfectly reasonable ambition when you’re six.” Skylar thrust a bulging bag toward her. “This is for you.”
“You bought me fairy wings and a tiara?”
“I bought you the adult equivalent. Something suitable for a summer at the beach, so you don’t have to walk around looking as if you’re taking a lunch break from running a prison. You’re welcome.” Sky leaned forward and hugged her tightly. “Stop wearing black and undo a few buttons. Let the sunshine in. If you won’t do it for me, do it for your health. Maine has over forty-five identified species of mosquitoes, and black just happens to be their favorite color. Right now you are an insect banquet.”
Later, much later, after a supper of pizza and ice cream followed by a girlie movie marathon, they waited for Lizzy to fall asleep and then curled up on Kathleen’s sofas and shared a bottle of wine.
“I’d give anything for a slice of Kathleen’s apple-topped ginger cake.” Skylar stretched her arms in a long, languid movement that reminded Emily of a contented cat. “With maple cream.”
“It would cost you around a week pounding on the treadmill.”
“It would be worth every stride and every bead of sweat.”
“I don’t know how you can keep such terrible eating habits and stay so slim.”
“It’s nervous energy. So, how has it been?” Settling into the sofa, Sky curled her legs under her, her waterfall of white-blond hair flowing over her shoulder. “I didn’t see anyone with cameras when I arrived.”
“No. I’m starting to think I overreacted. If they’re looking, they’re not looking here. Ryan thinks they’ll be bored with it soon.”
“Ryan? You met a man?” Skylar looked interested. “Tell me more.”
“He’s a local businessman. He owns the Ocean Club. Friend of Brittany’s.”
“Friend? Friend, as in someone she knows, or someone she’s had sex with?”
“I haven’t asked.” And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
“That’s the difference between us. It would have been my first question. Let’s ask her, although I’m pretty sure she would have told us if there was something to tell.” Sky reached for her phone. “Is he sexy?” She tapped at the keys and pressed Send.
Emily thought about the hard planes of his handsome face and the power of that body. Oh, yes. “Why is that relevant?”
“Because you need some light relief after Neil. You’ll have lines on your forehead before your time, and no man should ever do that to a woman.” Putting her phone down, Skylar leaned forward and topped up her wineglass. “Do you trust him?”
“Ryan? Yes.” It surprised her to discover that she did. “Tell me about you. How is Richard?”
“Busy. Running for senate means he isn’t home much. He wants me to give up my business and travel around the state with him. He says he needs my support.” She talked quickly and Emily listened, dismissing the nagging voice in her head that told her Skylar wasn’t suited to that life.
Who was she to give advice?
What did she know about long-term, functioning relationships?
“Do you want to give up your business?”
“No. I love what I’m doing and it’s going well. A new store in Brooklyn has just agreed to stock my jewelry, and a gallery in London is hosting an exhibition for my new collection Ocean Blue, so I’m crazy busy getting ready for that.”
“You have an exhibition in London? Skylar, that’s wonderful!” Emily reached across and hugged her friend. “I’m so proud of you. Wow. Richard must be proud, too. And your parents? Surely now they can see this is right for you.”
Skylar took another gulp of wine. “My choice of career is something my parents don’t mention. And Richard doesn’t want me to go to London.”
“He doesn’t—” Emily was thrown. “But this is huge. Why wouldn’t he want you to go? He should be so proud of you.”
“The timing is bad. If he wins in November, he’ll want me by his side for all the Christmas functions.” Skylar put her glass down, her eyes miserable. “And I hate the way things are right now, Em. I bump into my parents and it’s as if we’re strangers. The only thing I’ve ever done right in their eyes is date Richard Everson. They want me to go home to Long Island for the holidays.”
“You said you weren’t putting yourself through that again.”
“I know what I said. They want me to bring Richard. And he wants to go, of course, because he needs my father’s support. So I’m facing a miserable Christmas with my parents, being held up as an example of a daughter who wasted her life. My younger brother passed the bar exam by the way, so I’m now officially the only non-lawyer in the family.” The smile stayed on her face, but her voice was thickened. “Whatever happened to the fairy-tale Christmas we used to dream about, Em? What happened to ice-skating, roasting chestnuts and family fun? Christmas in my house is about as much fun as a day in the Supreme Court.”
“You can’t give up your exhibition, Sky. They should be excited for you! They should— On second thought, don’t get me started on that one.” Emily flopped back against the sofa. “Can you believe this? On the outside you have the perfect family, but you’re no better off than I am.”
“I know. My friendship with you and Brit has been stronger than anything I’ve had with my family.” Sky stared down into her glass. “The other reason I don’t want to go home for the holidays is that I’m afraid Richard is going to make some dramatic gesture.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. He’s hinting at marriage again. He thinks it will help his image.”
Emily almost spilled her wine. “He wants to marry you because he thinks it will garner him public approval? What about what you want? And, more to the point, what about love?”
“I asked that exact same question.”
“And?”
Skylar took a mouthful of wine. “He told me not to be ridiculous. Said that of course he loves me. That goes without saying.”
“Love should never go without saying.” Emily felt a flicker of unease. “You did tell him how you feel about marriage?”
“Of course. I’ve always been honest about it. He knows it isn’t what I want. For me a relationship should be held together by strong emotions, not a piece of paper.” Some of the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “Do you think I’m too romantic?”
“For believing in love? No, but that isn’t what matters. What matters is finding a man who understands and respects your views, whatever they are.” And she was fairly sure Richard wasn’t that person. Emily found his charm superficial and manipulative rather than genuine. She would never have put him with someone as creative and sensitive as Sky. It was like sending an armored tank to catch a butterfly. “Relationships are hard. Finding someone who wants the same things as you is rare. Finding someone who understands you, even rarer.”
“Are you about to tell me you had that with Neil? Because I won’t believe you.”
What had she had with Neil? She wasn’t sure she could put a name to it. “It was an easy relationship.”
“Is easy another word for boring?”
“Maybe. It was safe. I was with him for three years and not once did I ever feel confused about my feelings.” She’d known Ryan two days, and her feelings had been all over the place.
“It was your lucky day when he dumped you. The only thing I don’t understand is why you didn’t dump him first. You deserve so much better. All you need to do now is throw out everything black in your wardrobe.”
“I like black.”
“It makes you fade into the background.”
“That’s exactly where I want my body to be. In the background. You have no idea how many men have had conversations with my chest.”
“And I bet you managed to get them to look into your eyes two seconds after you opened your mouth. You’re bright and witty, Emily. Your body is your body. It’s the only one you have, and you shouldn’t feel you need to hide it.”
“You don’t understand. Even Neil agreed that my breasts, if not exactly my worst feature, were unfortunate.”
“He said that? I’m glad you told me because now if I ever get the chance to kill him, I’m going to make sure it’s a slow death. Why do you think he said that, Em? Because underneath the surface he was a jealous creep, and he didn’t want other men looking at you.”
Emily tried to picture Neil jealous. “I want people to take me seriously.”
“I understand. Look at this blond hair—” Skylar lifted a handful of pale silk “—do you think people don’t prejudge me? Of course they do, but I don’t care. I love my hair, and if they want to take it as a sign that my brain is minuscule, then it will give me all the more pleasure to prove them wrong. This isn’t about the way you relate to men. It’s to do with your mother.”
Emily examined her nails. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe. She used her body because she had a pathological need for attention and didn’t know any other way to get it. You’re nothing like her.”
“Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I see similarities.”
“Change your mirror. I am going to take a pair of scissors to your clothes. It’s time you stopped hiding. You deserve a grand passion, and your breasts deserve to have a life outside the rigid confines of corsetry.”
Emily stared wistfully into her wineglass. “I’ve never had a grand passion. I’ve never felt that strongly about anyone. I’m not sure I want to.”
“That’s because you associate passion with the sleazy encounters your mother had. But that wasn’t passion. That was opportunistic sex.”
Emily thought about the constant parade of men when she was growing up. The cramped apartment had been busier than Times Square in July. The walls had been paper thin, the lack of air-conditioning adding to the oppressive atmosphere of the place. She was fairly sure her mother hadn’t been a passion addict, just an attention addict. “Lana inherited some of her traits. She had that same desperate need to be the focus of attention.”
She’d worked hard to be the opposite, but in doing so she’d put a label on passion as something to avoid, which had proven to be easy enough until now.
She thought about Ryan and the way he made her feel. Of the sexual awareness simmering beneath the surface of every interaction. “Do you see a future with Richard?”
Skylar lay back on the sofa. “He has many qualities that I admire. He knows what he wants and he’s determined to do what he has to do to get there.”
“And he wants you.” She didn’t voice her uneasy suspicion that Richard saw Skylar as an acquisition, a tool to enhance his political appeal.
“Yes, but there’s no escaping the fact that we’re different. He has a five-year plan. I have a five-minute plan.”
“I love that about you.”
Sky finished her wine and put her glass down, “How is it going with Lizzy?”
“It’s tough. I feel like I want to tie her to me so that nothing bad can happen.” Emily toyed with her glass. “I don’t trust my ability to keep her safe. I don’t have the skills for this.”
“Yes, you do, but you’re scared.” Sky took her hand. “It’s understandable after what happened. You’re an intelligent woman, you should understand that.”
“What I know intellectually doesn’t change how I feel emotionally.” She stared down at Skylar’s slender fingers, relieved to be able to talk about it. “When I got that phone call, I thought Puffin Island was the perfect place to bring Lizzy. Secluded, miles away from her home, but I didn’t think about the other things.”
“You mean the sea?”
“Yes. I couldn’t have brought her to a worse place. All my phobias are concentrated in this one small island.”
“You love this island. We spent every summer here when we were in college.”
“That was different. I didn’t have a child to care for. I could think about myself. I helped Kathleen in the garden, I walked up through the woods, I spent time in the kitchen with her learning to bake—”
“So, you can still do those things.” Skylar put her glass down. “You don’t have to go to the beach, Em.”
“It’s right outside the door and she keeps asking.” She took a deep breath. “And I feel like a coward.”
“You’re not a coward. You had a terrible experience. And you’ve only been back on the island for a week. Give yourself time. There’s no shortage of things to do here. We just need to get her interested in things that don’t involve the sea.” Skylar suppressed a yawn. “I haven’t been to the harbor for ages. We’ll do that tomorrow. We’ll eat ice cream and you can take me to the Ocean Club. I want to try the chocolate milk Lizzy keeps talking about. And I want to meet Ryan.”
*
RYAN WAS SEATED at a table by the water talking to Alec when Kirsti strolled over to them.
“She’s back. I told you she was The One. She can’t stay away from you. And she brought a hot blonde for Alec.”
Alec didn’t lift his gaze from the book he’d been reading before Ryan had joined him. “I’m allergic to hot blondes.”
Ryan glanced over to the doorway, saw Emily and Lizzy and, behind them, another woman he assumed to be Skylar.
She was tall, her almost ethereal beauty emphasized by the dress she wore. A mixture of green and blue, it floated round her slim frame as she walked.
“She looks like a mermaid,” Kirsti muttered. “Alec, you are going to want to look at this.”
“In Greek mythology mermaids summon men to their doom.”
“You read too much. You need to watch more TV and play some video games. Rot your brain a bit like normal folk.”
Ryan’s gaze was fixed on Emily. It had been two days since he’d seen her, and he’d had to force himself to stay away and give her space. He saw her smile at something her friend said and felt something clench in his gut. There, right there, was the real Emily. He wanted to capture that smile and follow it to see where it led, but it vanished quickly, and she was watching the child again, as if she were afraid she might blow away in the breeze. He understood that the responsibility was new to her, but he sensed there was more to her overly protective attitude than the unfamiliarity of unplanned parenthood. “Give them the same table as last time.”
“It’s reserved for the couple sailing that racing sloop. There will be pistols at dawn.”
“I’ll handle them. Give it to Emily.”
“You’re the boss.” With a shrug Kirsti moved away to welcome her new customers.
Convenience should have made Emily take the seat with the best view of the water, but instead she switched with her friend so that she once again sat with her back to it.
Pondering the possible reasons for that, Ryan tried to focus on the conversation with Alec. “So, you’re planning to see Selina while you’re in London?”
Alec wrapped his hand around the beer. “Yes, but that’s one encounter that will be as brief as possible.”
“I don’t understand how the two of you ever got together.”
“Never underestimate the mind-distorting power of great sex.” Alec stared broodingly over the ocean. “Before me, she dated bankers and mega-rich city types. She wanted adventure and thought I was a sea-loving version of Indiana Jones. I took her kayaking on our honeymoon.”
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “White water kayaking?”
“No, just plain old sea kayaking. Her hair got wet. Let’s talk about something else.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” Ryan stood up. “Put your book away. We’re moving tables. You’re going to talk to a live human instead of reading about dead ones.”
“Dead ones are more interesting, and they don’t bleed you dry. And I am not moving tables. I like this table. It seats two people which means no one can join us.”
“I own this place,” Ryan murmured. “If you don’t move, I’ll physically eject you.”
With a sigh, Alec looked up. “Are you meddling with my sex life? Because I have enough of that from Kirsti.”
“No. I’m meddling with my own, and you’re my wingman.”
“I’m not a good wingman.”
“You’re the perfect wingman. You’re so bitter and twisted, you make me look good. Stand up. We’re going to join them for lunch.”
Alec’s gaze flickered to Skylar, and just for a moment he stared. “Women like her don’t eat lunch. They order it, make you pay and then push it round their plates.”
“Every time you think like that, you’re letting your ex-wife win.”
“She has won. She has a large chunk of my income and my house in London.”
“You have plenty of income left, you can stay in a hotel when you travel to London and you have your freedom. Seems like a good deal to me.” Ryan gave him a slap on the shoulder and strolled across to the group on the other side of the terrace. Lizzy sat, swinging her legs, and she reminded him so much of Rachel at the same age, he smiled. “Cute hat.”
Her face brightened. “Ryan! Can I play with Cocoa?”
“And there was I thinking you were pleased to see me, but it’s all about the dog.” He winked at her. “She’s with my grandmother, but you can visit anytime. They live in the big white house with the wraparound deck just up from the harbor. If you wanted to walk Cocoa, you’d be her favorite person.”
Lizzy instantly turned to Emily. “Can we?”
“Sure.” Her gaze flickered to his, and he saw color warm her cheeks in the moment before she turned to introduce her friend. “This is Skylar.”
He was tempted to ask Skylar if she’d babysit while he took Emily for a long walk along the beach followed by sunset-watching from the king-size bed in his apartment, but instead he reached across and extended his hand.
“I’ve heard about you from my grandmother.” He took the chair next to Emily, leaving Alec no choice but to sit next to Skylar. “This is Alec Hunter. You have to excuse him. He’s half British, but their weather isn’t bad enough for him, so he spends most of his time here with us in Maine. He’s a historian.”
Alec’s greeting was little more than a curt nod, and Skylar’s gaze flickered to Alec’s rough, handsome features and lingered for a moment before returning to Ryan.
“What was your grandmother’s name?”
“Agnes Cooper. You gave her friends a jewelry class once.”
“I did. I remember her well. She was wonderful.” A smile spread across her face, and Ryan saw warmth and humanity beneath the surface beauty.
“She’d love to see you again.”
“We should call on her. Em, do you remember her?”
Next to him, Emily stirred. “I wasn’t there.”
“You must have been.” Skylar frowned. “We made necklaces. Brittany helped. Why wouldn’t you have been there? We spent the morning on the beach searching for sea glass and then—” She broke off and sent an agonized look of apology toward her friend. “I remember now. You stayed in the cottage. You had a headache.”
It was obvious to Ryan it hadn’t been a headache that had kept Emily in the cottage, but Skylar’s protectiveness made it clear the subject was not up for further discussion.
Emily sat still, but Ryan could feel the tension emanating from her. Her hand rested close to his on the table, and he wanted to slide his fingers over hers and demand that she tell him what was wrong so he could fix it. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know why she’d stayed in the cottage all those years before and not joined her friends on their expedition through the tide pools. He wanted to know why she’d spent three years of her life with a guy who clearly didn’t appreciate her and why she’d filled every hour of her day with a job when there were so many more appealing ways of living. And he wanted to rip all the concealing black from her body and explore every inch of her until there wasn’t a single part of her he didn’t know.
He shifted, distracted by the brutal power of arousal.
And then he saw Lizzy, her hands clasped around a glass, her tumbling hair tucked under the pink baseball cap, and remembered the reason he couldn’t follow up on his impulses.
Instead of taking Emily’s hand, he picked up his beer, relieved when Kirsti came over to take their order.
Kirsti chatted to Emily, admired Lizzy’s hat and tried to draw Alec into conversation with Skylar, an endeavor that earned her a black look.
Skylar ignored it and glanced at the menu. “So what do you recommend?”
Kirsti looked thoughtful. “Depends. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
Ryan saw the faint gleam of cynical disbelief light Alec’s eyes. He’d never met Alec’s ex-wife, but the few reports he’d read in the press had given him the impression of a woman for whom the phrase high maintenance had probably been invented.
Kirsti leaned forward and pointed. “The clams are good, but my favorite are the homemade crab cakes with dipping sauce. We serve that with French fries and coleslaw but you can switch the fries for a salad if you prefer.”
“No way!” Skylar looked horrified. “Fries, please. Lizzy? What do you like?”
“Try the chicken fingers,” Kirsti advised. “They are the best.”
While they waited for the food to arrive, Skylar did most of the talking, her vibrant energy flowing over the group, filling awkward silences, while Lizzy sat watching, her eyes fixed to the gleaming silver bangles that jangled on Skylar’s slender arms.
Ryan noticed Lizzy was wearing one, too. It was too big, so she held it with her other hand, as if it were something precious she was determined not to lose.
Emily sat quietly; her eyes were trained on the restaurant, and every time someone new walked through the door she fixed them with her gaze, apparently assessing the threat level. He knew it was no coincidence that she’d given Lizzy the chair facing the water so that her back was to the other diners.
Whatever her feelings about her situation, it was obvious that she took the responsibility seriously.
He suspected she took everything seriously.
He glanced at her profile, taking in the fine bones of her face and the smooth caramel silk of her hair. At first glance it was impossible to believe she was related in any way to Lana Fox. Lana had been fully aware of her assets and prepared to put each and every one on public display in order to guarantee herself a place in the limelight. By contrast, Emily’s was a quiet beauty, understated, her discreet manner the very antithesis of her half sister’s apparent thirst for attention. From what he’d read, Lana had been addicted to a life of high drama. It seemed to him that Emily had done everything she could to remove drama from her life.
How must it feel for someone who avoided drama like that to assume responsibility for a child she’d never even met?
At least he’d had a close relationship with his siblings. Whatever his feelings on the situation, they’d stuck together as a family.
What Emily had described sounded less like a family and more like a disconnected group of individuals living at the same address.
Kirsti brought lunch, plates heaped high with crab cakes, bowls heaped high with crisp, golden fries.
Fitting five of them around a table intended for four was a squash, and Ryan’s knee brushed against Emily’s as they shifted to accommodate people and food.
He reached for the salt at the same time as she did, and their fingers tangled.
“Sorry.” He murmured the word and disengaged his fingers from hers, but not before several volts of sexual electricity had traveled from her fingers to his.
The salt ended up on the floor.
Across the table, he met Sky’s curious gaze.
“So, Ryan—” she sliced into the crab cake on her plate “—what do you do when you’re not running this place?”
“I spend time on the water. Isn’t that the point of living in Maine?”
Alec finally looked at Skylar. “Where do you live?”
“Manhattan.”
Alec’s face was blank of expression. “Of course you do.”
“Wow.” Skylar sat back in her chair and looked at him with a mixture of fascination and indignation. “Do you stereotype everyone you meet?”
Ryan retrieved the salt and handed it to Alec. “He does. You have to forgive him. He’s lost his social skills since moving to a remote island. His research means he spends most of his time in the past. I have to force him to interact with live people occasionally.”
“Research?”
“The good doctor is writing a naval history. He’s much in demand around the world as a lecturer and TV presenter, although I’ve never understood why the public would want to look at anything that ugly.” As expected, Alec didn’t rise, but Skylar looked interested.
“Doctor?”
“PhD, so don’t show him your war wounds. He only likes blood in the context of history.”
Alec put down his fork. “Last time I looked, I was actually sitting here at the table with you. You could include me in the conversation.”
“I could, but I’m worried you might lower the mood.” Marriage wasn’t something Ryan gave much thought to, but spending time with Alec had convinced him that it was better to be single than married to the wrong person. By all accounts his short relationship had more in common with cage fighting than romance.
Skylar pushed her bowl of fries toward Alec. “Help yourself.”
“You can’t finish them?” Alec threw Ryan a brief “I told you so” look that Skylar intercepted.
“Of course I can finish them, but you look cross, and I’m wondering if your bad mood is because you’re hungry. I’m evil when I’m hungry.”
Alec tightened his mouth. “I’m not in a bad mood.”
Ryan stole one of Skylar’s fries. “You should eat your food, Alec. It’s good advice.”
“If you don’t want them, then I’ll eat them.” Sky pulled the bowl back and ate as if it were her last meal. “These are delicious. How do you make them?”
Ryan thought about the oil. “You probably don’t want to know.”
“If I didn’t want to know I wouldn’t have asked.”
“They’re double fried. It makes the outside extra crispy.”
“Full of calories,” Alec said pointedly, and Ryan saw Skylar smile.
“That explains why they’re so good. You haven’t eaten yours. You should. They’re incredible.”
Alec finally looked properly at Skylar. His gaze traveled from the top of her shiny, glossy hair, down her slender frame and lingered on her fingers, still dipping into her bowl of fries.
She licked her fingers, not provocatively but unselfconsciously, and Ryan felt Alec tense beside him.
“I don’t stereotype people. I’m a good judge of character.”
“You think you can judge character on external appearance?” Skylar reached for a napkin, her blue eyes cool and her voice low. “Personally I find it dangerous to make assumptions until you’ve spent time with a person. Take you, for example. If I went on appearances, I’d say you were rude, but you’re best friends with Ryan, who is charming, so I’m guessing there’s more to you than bad manners. I’m guessing you were hurt in the past, and now you’re doing that thing of assuming all women are like the woman who hurt you. That’s a way of making sure you live life alone.”
A muscle flickered in Alec’s jaw. “I’m working on it.”
Ryan knew that in Alec’s case, the wounds were just too raw for him to be able to see a time when Selina would be nothing more than a mistake in his past.
Alec and Skylar stared at each other, gazes locked in silent battle, and Emily cleared her throat.
“So, you’re a maritime historian?”
“He’s also a marine archaeologist,” Ryan said, “which means we can push him under the water any time we’ve had enough of him on dry land. Which might be soon, Al.”
“Archaeologist?” Emily poured herself a glass of water. “Do you know Brittany?”
Dragging his gaze from Skylar, Alec gave a brief nod. “Yes.”
“Don’t ever get them together,” Ryan advised. “I remember a tedious evening when the two of them talked about nothing but the seafaring history of ancient Minoans. I wanted to drown myself.”
Alec pushed his plate away, leaving most of his food untouched. “Is she coming back this summer or is she spending the whole time in Crete?”
“How do you know she’s in Crete?”
“We exchange emails. And I read her blog. Her expertise is Bronze Age weaponry, and there was talk of an exciting find at one of the excavation sites.” Alec frowned. “Daggers? Arrowheads?”
Skylar finished her fries. “I’ve always said that Brittany is the original Lara Croft.”
“Does that mean she wears those cute tiny shorts when she’s digging?” Ryan leaned forward and stole one of Alec’s fries. “I always thought archaeology was boring, but maybe not. I still haven’t forgiven her for shooting me in the butt, though, when I was running along the coast path. She’d spent the summer making Cretan arrowheads in Kathleen’s garden and decided to test one as I passed.”
“Wait a minute—” Emily put her fork down and focused on Alec. “I recognize you, now. You’re the Shipwreck Hunter. You made a documentary on the shipwrecks of Maine, and you kayaked the Colorado River with a geologist. I can’t remember what it was called. Adventures through Time or something. Did you see it, Sky?”
Ryan smiled. “That’s the one that got him one-hundred-thousand female followers on Twitter. Or was that the one when you kayaked a section of the Amazon with your shirt off?”
Alec didn’t smile, but fortunately Kirsti chose that moment to arrive, clearing plates and offering dessert menus, with a recommendation of warm blueberry pie.
“Did you say blueberry pie?” Skylar sighed wistfully. “Kathleen made the best blueberry pie.”
“In that case, you should order it, because it’s her recipe.” Kirsti caught a napkin before it could blow away in the breeze, and the same breeze picked up a strand of Skylar’s hair and blew it into Alec’s face.
It wrapped itself around him like a golden tentacle, and he jerked away as if he’d been stung.
“Oops, sorry.” Skylar scooped her hair over the opposite shoulder and gave Alec a conciliatory smile. “Breezy here. Let me buy you dessert to make up for that moment of unsolicited hair bondage.”
The two of them stared at each other, cynic and beauty, violet blue locked with smoldering black.
Feeling as if he were trespassing on an intimate moment, Ryan was about to speak when Alec stood up abruptly.
“Not for me. I have work to do. I’m off to London at the end of the week.” He nodded to Emily. “Good to meet you.”
To Skylar he said nothing, and Ryan watched as his friend walked out through the restaurant without a backward glance.
Skylar handed the menu back to Kirsti. “I guess he hates dessert.” Her voice was calm, but Ryan could see she was upset.
“He hates a lot of things right now. He’s going through a rough time. Bad divorce.”
“We understand. It’s not a problem.” It was Emily who spoke, but Ryan noticed that she reached across and squeezed her friend’s hand, the bond between the two girls visible to the naked eye.
Skylar gave a quick smile intended to indicate she was fine, and then stared out to sea.
As Kirsti disappeared to the kitchen on a mission to find blueberry pie, Ryan tried to resurrect the conversation.
“So, what are your plans for the afternoon?”
It was Lizzy who answered. “We’re going to make jewelry.”
For the first time Ryan noticed the pasta necklace around Lizzy’s neck. Each piece was painted a different shade of purple and pink and sprinkled with glitter.
“Sounds like fun.”
“Can we go on a boat trip?” The innocent question sent a ripple of tension around the table that Ryan detected but didn’t understand.
In the end it was Skylar who spoke. “You’ll be too busy making jewelry for me to wear next time I visit.”
Lizzy wasn’t so easily deterred. “I’d like to go on a boat and see the puffins.”
“Boats rock and mess up your hair. Maybe we’ll go on it next time I’m here,” Skylar said quickly. “I’ll take you.”
Lizzy looked at Emily. “Do boats make you sick?”
“A little.” Emily’s face was as white as new snowfall, and Ryan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt there was a reason she kept her back to the water.
They shared blueberry pie, and then Kirsti interrupted with a call for Ryan.
He excused himself and walked through to his office, but Kirsti stopped him as he was about to close the door.
“I think Skylar might be The One for Alec.” She spoke in a whisper so that whoever was on the phone couldn’t hear her.
Ryan laughed. “You have to be kidding me. They almost killed each other.”
“I know. I’ve never seen Alec like that. The chemistry was electric.”
“She almost blacked his eye.”
“Because he was rude to her and she wasn’t having it! Most people are daunted by Alec’s intellectual superiority. She squashed him like a bug.”
“And that’s a good thing?” Baffled, Ryan shook his head. “Skylar isn’t his type.”
“Ryan, how can such an intelligent guy be so clueless when it comes to relationships? She’s exactly his type. That’s why he was in such a filthy mood. He’s used to winning, and he didn’t win.” She turned away with an exasperated sigh, and Ryan stared after her, trying to picture brooding Alec with free-spirited Skylar.
Exactly his type?
He thought about Emily.
She was responsible for a child, which meant she wasn’t his type at all.