Lauren
Reunion: a meeting between people who have
been separated for some time
Lauren parked her mother’s car and walked down to the boatyard.
It was still early and she’d left everyone else asleep. She’d been awake since one o’clock, which would have been six in the morning in London. It had been weeks since she’d arrived on the Vineyard, and still she wasn’t sleeping. The moment she closed her eyes her mind started to race. Her chest felt as if it was being squeezed by metal bands and panic rushed down on her like the tide.
First Ed, then the money, leaving London, her mother selling The Captain’s House—
Lauren breathed deeply, trying to find the calm that used to come so easily.
The early morning sky was cloudy, the sea a gunmetal gray. Her coat, which had felt perfectly adequate for chilly coffee mornings in London, was woefully inadequate against the cold bite of the wind that slapped at her face and tugged at her hair. She turned up her collar, wondering if she’d ever feel warm again.
After everything that had happened lately, one more thing shouldn’t have had an impact but when Mack had told her about the beach incident she’d felt physically sick.
Part of her was relieved Mack had confided in her, but she knew that for Mack to be so open with her given the current rocky state of their relationship, she must have been very shaken up.
And no matter how much she didn’t want to see Scott Rhodes, she owed him her thanks.
On the other hand, maybe it was crazy doing this to herself.
She was already halfway back to her car when she saw his pickup bouncing down the uneven dirt track toward her.
He’d already seen her so it was too late to run.
She was conscious that it was just the two of them, alone on this cold morning, and felt as guilty as a woman contemplating an affair.
I’m sorry, Ed, I’m sorry.
And then she remembered that Ed was the reason she was back on Martha’s Vineyard.
If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be standing here now, waiting to talk to her ex-lover.
Ex-love.
She’d loved Scott so much she hadn’t been able to see further than the end of her feelings.
Her heart accelerated as Scott slammed the door and strolled across to her.
A dog bounded toward her, tail wagging. She might have felt nervous except Mack had talked about the dog nonstop.
It had surprised her to learn that Scott had a dog. Surely a pet was a commitment?
She stooped to stroke the animal, which gave her an excuse not to focus on the man, although she’d already seen more than enough.
He’d filled out. Shoulders wider, chest bigger. Different in every way to Ed, who had grown up pampered and indulged by a doting mother. Scott rarely talked about his past, but he’d said enough. The legacy of his hard upbringing was visible in the way he chose to live his life. He kept himself fit and ready for anything. He was self-contained and self-reliant.
Scott Rhodes needed no one.
And yet he’d understood her as no one else had before or since.
She straightened and forced herself to meet his gaze. The past, blurred and muted over time, sharpened into focus.
The dangerous crackle and snap of chemistry hummed to life inside her.
She tried to shut it down, but looking at him was all it took for her to feel herself begin to unravel. She’d held it together since the fateful birthday party, battling each obstacle that had come her way, dealing with life, teetering on the edge of a deep pool of emotions but too scared to allow herself to tumble in case she couldn’t pull herself out again. But now all she wanted to do was fling herself against him. She hadn’t felt safe in a while, and she knew those powerful arms would make her feel safe. She knew they’d make her feel other things, too, which was why she didn’t step forward.
Ignoring the pounding of her heart, she smiled. “I came to thank you for last night. What you did for Mack.”
“She told you?”
His hair was very dark and his features strong. The blue of his eyes was the only thing that softened what might otherwise have been described as a hard face.
“She was very shaken up. And grateful to you.”
“Seemed to me I upset her. I’m not used to talking to kids. I don’t know the right way.”
“She’s a teenager. Today’s right way is tomorrow’s wrong way.” Her mouth felt so dry she could hardly speak. Right now she felt like a teenager herself. “She’s grateful and I’m grateful, too. If anything happened to her I’d—”
“I don’t think she’ll be doing it again.” He turned back to the truck and hauled some bags out of the back, the muscles of his shoulders flexing. “Are you feeling better? I haven’t seen you since that day at the ferry.”
Why was she looking at his muscles? What was wrong with her? “I’m sorry Mack blurted it out like that. The fact that you’re her father.”
“I am her father.”
She’d spent so long trying to forget that fact that it was a shock to hear him say it so calmly. “It wasn’t the way I would have chosen to spread the news.”
“News spreads. The method doesn’t generally matter.”
She knew it wouldn’t take long for it to filter through to the locals, but he probably wouldn’t be around long enough for it to bother him. “I didn’t think you’d still be living here. I was surprised to see you.”
“I gathered that by the way you keeled over on the dock.”
She would have felt embarrassed if she hadn’t been busy wrestling other feelings. “I assumed you’d be sailing a far distant ocean somewhere.”
His face was inscrutable. “No.”
“Mom mentioned that you’ve been doing some work on the house. You’re working here full-time?” The boatyard belonged to the company Island Marine and had occupied this corner of the harbor for as long as she could remember. The owner Joshua Roper had died a few years previously and left the business to his son Charlie, who had been a couple of years ahead of Jenna at school. “You’re working with Charlie?”
“Sometimes.”
Sometimes. When it suited him. Life on his terms.
Some things hadn’t changed.
But he’d saved her daughter.
“It’s cold. Let’s take this conversation inside before you catch pneumonia.” He transferred the bags to one arm so that he could unlock the door of the office, and then dumped everything onto the table.
Captain bounded into the room and settled himself on a large cushion in front of the log burner.
Lauren glanced round the place, wishing she could stop shivering.
One half of the room was used as an office, complete with file cabinets. There was a desk, and she noticed a high-spec computer. The other half was equipped as a kitchen. It was surprisingly tidy, every surface clear and shining. She remembered visiting a couple of times with her father when she was young and the place had been a mess. It seemed Charlie hadn’t inherited his father’s untidy traits.
The walls were covered in maps, some of them annotated with bold black strokes of a pen.
She stepped closer. “What are the lines and arrows?”
“They’re the routes I’ve sailed.” He lifted milk out of the bag and stowed it in the fridge.
She studied the map, relieved to have an excuse not to look at him. “You’ve virtually sailed round the world.” Single-handed. Alone.
“There’s a lot to see.”
“Did you ever find what you were looking for?” Her question was met with silence so she turned her head and met his gaze.
“Did you?” His voice was rough.
What had she been looking for?
At first it had been love, but then it had been security and stability.
She’d lost all three.
Because it was impossible to think when he was looking at her, she glanced back at the maps.
She hadn’t imagined that being alone with him would be this hard.
Her feelings unsettled her. She didn’t want to be the sort of person who lost a husband one day and then wanted to rip the clothes off another man the next.
Her emotions were so close to the surface she felt like one of those volcano experiments Mack had done at school. Everything was about to boil over.
She studied the lines on the map. He must have been away for a year. More? “Where are you living?”
“On the boat.”
Some of her happiest moments had been spent on his boat. There had even been moments when she’d thought they might have a future.
Determined not to think about that, she turned. “Mack said you brought her home. You should have come in.”
He glanced at her. “Things were a little tense last time I was in the house. I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”
“You saved my daughter from a difficult situation. Of course you would have been welcome.”
His gaze was steady. “Is she doing all right?”
“She’s very confused right now.” She was desperate to talk about it. The responsibility was a crushing weight to carry alone. “I don’t know why she did what she did last night.”
“You never did anything reckless at her age?”
Lauren felt herself flush. They both knew the answer to that one.
“It’s tough for her, trying to fit in. She had some issues in her old school, too.” She wondered why she was telling him this. If he’d been at all interested in being a parent, they might be having a different conversation now.
“Trying to make yourself fit in never works. You are who you are.”
Which was why there had never been any hope for them.
“I didn’t only come here to thank you. Mom says you’re buying The Captain’s House.” She’d had a few weeks to digest the information and she still couldn’t believe it. “Why would you do that?”
When her mother had first announced it, it was hard to know who had been more shocked, her or Jenna. Even calm, unflappable Greg had seemed startled.
Of all the things she’d pictured happening in life, her mother selling the family home had never been on the list. Nancy wouldn’t even throw away a photograph. How was she going to dispose of the whole thing?
All that talk about finding it difficult to afford the upkeep made no sense to Lauren because she knew her mother had made a fortune with her paintings.
She was hoping it was all a mistake. Maybe her mother was having a delayed midlife crisis. The thought that Scott might be buying her home made her want to hyperventilate.
“The house is no longer for sale.” The words especially not to you hovered on her lips. “I don’t know what you said to her to persuade her to sell it but it’s not going to happen, and the fact that I’m grateful to you for saving my daughter isn’t going to change anything.”
He tipped fruit into the bowl on the table. “So you still don’t talk to your mother.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you’d talked,” he said, “you wouldn’t be standing here now trying to find answers to the questions you should be asking her. You’re staying in the house, not with your sister?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re in your old room, which I’m guessing you are because it has the best views and the windows are sound, then that means you’re less than five strides away from the room your mother uses.”
“I don’t see what—”
“Instead of knocking on her door and having a conversation, you chose to drive over here when it’s barely light and confront a man you hoped you’d never see again.”
She was struggling to close the door on her feelings but they kept finding ways to sneak through the cracks. Her heart started to beat harder, thumping against her ribs like a warning.
“I didn’t hope that.”
There was an ironic gleam in his eyes. “You took one look at me on the dock that day and passed out.”
“I hadn’t been sleeping, or eating—”
“And the last person you needed to see was a man you hate with every bone in your body.”
“I don’t hate you.” Her voice gave up on her and emerged as a croak. “I never hated you.” Didn’t he know her better than that?
He turned away and carried on unloading the last of the bags. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I gave you reason.”
He was pushing against that door and she no longer had the strength to keep it shut.
She felt raw and exposed. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. It wasn’t supposed to be about them. “What about you?” She’d seen the effect he had on women. She’d seen the way heads turned. After they’d parted ways she’d occasionally imagined him with one of those women, but the vision was so painful she’d done her best to delete it. “Was there anyone serious for you?”
“No.”
“You’re telling me you didn’t have other relationships?”
“No, I’m not telling you that.” He glanced at her. “I’m telling you there wasn’t anyone serious.”
A warmth spread across her belly. “I thought you’d forget me.”
“Forget you? How?” He gave a humorless laugh. “You were the one person who understood me. Certainly the only person I ever trusted. There was never any chance I’d forget you, Laurie.”
His use of her name was intimate. Personal.
She thought about the way he’d whispered it against her lips as they’d lain naked.
She’d known, almost from the start, that anything they had wouldn’t last. If anything, that had deepened the intensity of their feelings.
It had been years since she’d seen him, but it could have been yesterday. She knew how it felt to be kissed by him. Touched by him. She knew his lips, his hands, his mind and that knowledge fed the chemistry that still simmered.
“I didn’t come here to talk about the past. I want to talk about the present.” And the future. If he intended to buy a house, then that meant he’d be a permanent fixture on the island. She wouldn’t be able to stand it. “Why would you want our house? You’re the man who doesn’t want ties or responsibilities. You live on a boat so that you can sail into the sunset at a moment’s notice—” She realized she was repeating a conversation they’d had more than sixteen years ago and almost choked on the words. “I don’t understand why you’d want to saddle yourself with property when you didn’t—” She broke off and his gaze locked on hers.
“When I didn’t want a child? Is that what you were going to say?”
“I understood why you didn’t want that. I don’t understand this.” She eyed the rip in his jeans and the battered jacket that seemed to have seen its share of winters. She had no idea what The Captain’s House would be worth, but she was pretty sure it would be a small fortune. How could he begin to afford it? “You were never interested in settling down.”
“That was more than sixteen years ago. Are you telling me you’re the same person you were sixteen years ago?”
At that moment she felt as if they were back where they’d started.
“What are you saying? That you suddenly want a house, a mortgage and a yard where you grow your own vegetables? I know you better than that, Scott.”
He ignored that question and spooned coffee into a machine. “When did you last eat?”
“What?”
“You can’t stop shivering. I’m asking when you last ate.”
Her head throbbed and she lifted her fingers to her forehead, wishing she’d tried to sleep a little longer. Coming here had been a mistake. She should have sent a note. “I don’t know—” She rubbed her head with her fingertips. “Last night.”
“Not eating isn’t going to fix anything.” His gaze skimmed over her. “You don’t weigh anything.”
“You don’t know what I weigh.”
“I carried you, remember?”
She was trying not to remember. Right now she wished she were back in that semiconscious state.
She also remembered the soft rumble of his voice in her ear. I’ve got you.
In those few moments, she’d felt safe. She’d always felt safe with him, which was ironic given that he’d hurt her more than anyone.
“It’s been a difficult time.”
“I heard. I’m sorry about your husband. Do you want breakfast?” He pulled open the fridge and pulled out eggs and bacon.
“Is Charlie going to mind your making yourself at home?”
“You can ask him next time you see him.” He fried bacon and cooked eggs in a skillet. The smell tantalized and seduced until she almost felt hungry.
When he plated up crispy bacon, perfect scrambled eggs and mushrooms she frowned.
“You used to hate mushrooms.”
“Still do. This is for you.” He put the plate on the table and pulled out a chair. “Sit down.”
She wasn’t sure she could eat, but the food looked so good her stomach was sending her mixed signals.
He heaped food onto his own plate and put it on the table along with two brimming mugs of coffee.
She nibbled a piece of bacon. “You always did know how to look after yourself.”
“There wasn’t anyone else to do it for me.”
“Was it a shock, seeing your daughter?”
He spooned sugar into his coffee. “I think she had the bigger shock.”
“She only found out about you recently.”
“I guessed that.”
“I was trying to protect her. I didn’t want her to grow up feeling insecure.” For the millionth time she wished she could go back and do things differently. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“Because it helps to talk to someone.” He stirred his coffee. “And you know me.”
Scott knew about her past. He would understand, possibly even better than Ed, why she’d made the decisions she had. The fact that Scott knew her so well made her feel uncomfortable. It felt wrong to have that depth of intimacy with someone you weren’t married to. “I was determined to be a good mother. Every decision I made, I put her first.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“She doesn’t think so.” Lauren put her fork down. “She’s mad at me.”
“You can be mad at someone and still love them.”
For some reason she found that more comforting than anything else anyone had said to her. “The one thing I really wanted to get right in life, I got wrong.”
“You made the decision you thought was right at the time. That’s all any of us can do.”
“Have you ever made a decision you regretted?”
There was a long silence. “Yes.”
The way he was looking at her left her in no doubt about which decision he was talking about.
There had been a time when his confession would have left her dizzy with hope and longing.
Now? She didn’t know. Over the past few weeks her feelings had been battered so badly she felt numb, but now something inside her was reawakening. It was a tingle in her skin and a flutter in her belly.
“Eat.” He reached across and put the fork back in her hand. “Before you can be responsible for someone else, you have to take care of yourself.” The kindness to his tone brought a lump to her throat.
Since Ed had died, her focus had been on everyone else—his mother, her daughter—never on herself.
Lauren hadn’t had time to deal with her own feelings. Maybe she didn’t want to. She’d rather postpone the moment when she had to deal with the fact that Ed was never coming back. That he’d deceived her.
The thought made her chest tighten.
“Tell me why you’re buying the house.”
Scott rose to his feet and cleared the plates. “Instead of asking me why I’m buying it, you should be asking your mother why she’s selling it.”
It sounded so straightforward and obvious when he said it, but he was correct in what he’d said earlier. Talking to her mother had always been the hardest thing in the world.
She stood up and picked up her bag. “Thanks for breakfast and for rescuing my daughter. And for scraping me off the deck that day.”
“Anytime.”
“There won’t be another time. I don’t intend to make a habit of passing out.”
“Eat more. That helps.” He gave her a rare smile and that smile felt like a balm.
Some people never smiled and some people smiled all the time. Scott Rhodes smiled when he meant it, and right now he meant it.
That smile made her feel stronger.
“See you around, Scott.” She headed to the door, wondering why he bothered to arrive at work so early when Charlie wasn’t even here to see it.
She had one foot through the door when he spoke.
“Laurie—” The urgency in his tone made her head whip round.
She looked at him, mesmerized by the glacial blue of his eyes and the dark shadow of his jaw.
Her heart pounded against her ribs. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Forget it.”
The reckless, wild side of her that she’d buried a long time ago thought about pushing him to tell her what it was he wanted to say. But what was the point of that? She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t tell her what was on his mind until he was ready.
She also knew that whatever it was he’d wanted to say, it hadn’t been “nothing.” But whether it was something she wanted to hear was a different matter.