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THE DARK HOUSE was just as Isla remembered it. It smelled of the lemon-scented oil soap he used to mop the floor every Sunday when he and his mother would clean the entire house.

Isla stood in the doorway as Garrett turned on a tall lamp behind two Victorian-style sitting chairs in the corner of the living room. A bay window wrapped around the entire front of the house.

She’d always envied Garrett for that window, despite the mansion she’d grown up in.

“Wow,” she said, stepping onto the cherry wood floor. “Nothing has changed. Even the furniture is the same.”

Garrett nodded, folding his arms across his chest as he looked around. “It’s pretty much how my mother left it. I really don’t know what I would change about it.”

“Who says that you have to?” Isla said, closing the front door behind her. “This is your home. You do what you want.”

“I know. I just don’t want to touch anything. It almost feels as if she’s still here like she’ll come from her craft room and ask me if I’ve seen her glitter,” he said with a laugh.

Isla smiled, looking around the cozy room as he turned on more lights. She and Garrett would always go to his house after he’d pick her up from her private school. He used to drive his father’s Ford, and would be waiting outside of the school for her with a smile on his handsome face.

Leaving a school where everyone either already had their own luxury vehicle or had a driver waiting to pick them up, Isla always drew attention for her choice of ride. Having everyone gossip about the senator’s daughter riding off with the son of a convicted felon didn’t make it easy facing her peers each day. But Isla didn’t care. Garrett was hers and that was all that mattered to her.

“Do you have anything to eat?” Isla asked. “I kind of left Robin high and dry. She was cooking for us.”

“Oh,” Garrett said, rubbing his chin. “I didn’t go shopping yet. I’ve kind of been ordering takeout.”

“That’s fine,” Isla said, her brows lifting. “Chinese sounds perfect.”

“Okay,” he said and pulled a delivery menu off the fridge at the back of the open floor plan. “You sure Robin won’t miss you.”

Isla lifted her phone. “I sent her a text. She understands. How many girls get to reconnect with a ghost.”

His shoulders slumped. “I’m no ghost, Isla. I’m here, and I’m never leaving again.”

Isla rubbed her arms. “I know.”

He nodded and dialed the number. “Sesame chicken, right?”

Isla smiled. He remembered. Of course he did. Garrett never forgot anything. “That’s right.”

She walked around the living room, gazing down at Garrett’s family photos. She’d been heart broken when she’d heard of his mother’s death. His father was still in prison and would probably never be released.

“It will be here in forty-five minutes,” he said, opening his cabinet. “Want a drink?”

“Yes,” Isla said, already tipsy from the shots from earlier and the wine she’d had just moments before she’d seen Garrett on the beach.

Was this real life? Was she dreaming?

Just yesterday Garrett was dead, she was in an abusive relationship by choice, and the world was a dark and bitter place.

Today, though.

Hope peeked its little head out of the cold corner of her heart and asked her to believe in second chances.

“Wine or whiskey?”

“Oh boy. Better make it wine. I’ve already had tequila and wine, let’s not add another to the mix,” she said.

“Wine it is,” he said with a nod as he searched for a wine opener.

Her eyes roamed over his body as sand still clung to his tan skin. He was bigger than when he’d left. The skinny artist was replaced by a male sports model. He’d changed, but she wasn’t complaining.

She licked her lips. His swim trunks were still damp and clung to his legs. Was it bad that she wanted to take them off of him?

Isla stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the island as Garrett handed her a glass of red wine.

He held his glass of whiskey out to hers, their eyes locking.

She could barely breath when he looked at her like that—like he’d rip her clothes off and lick every inch of her body. Dear god. Please let that happen.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” he said.

“To new beginnings,” Isla repeated and they clinked glasses together before taking a sip of the potent cabernet.

“So, Isla,” Garrett began, swishing his glass around as he looked down at her. “What brings you back to Laguna? I’d heard that you were living in San Diego. With a marine.”

Straight to the point.

“I did. But, it looks like I’m back now. I broke up with him.”

Garrett’s face didn’t betray any emotion. He simply nodded. “Oh.”

“He enlisted for another term.”

Garrett shrugged. “It happens.”

“What about you?” Isla asked. “Are you ever going back?”

“I can’t. I’ve been discharged. I won’t be going back even if I wanted to.”

“I can’t pretend that I am not relieved to hear it. But...what happened?”

Garrett turned away. “We can talk about it some other time. I’m going to get out of these wet clothes and take a shower.” He paused and looked back at her, clearly spooked by her question. “There’s satellite in the front room. I won’t be long. Just listen out for the delivery.”

Isla chewed her lips, her brows furrowing as she nodded.

Was it too soon to ask what kept them apart for two years? When he first went overseas, they’d talked every chance he got to access a computer. Two years went by with everything going smoothly.

They’d send each other pictures, would email every day, and chatted on Skype. Even when he couldn’t get to her right away, he’d apologize when he could make it to a computer.

She had no idea what it was like over there except for what little he could tell about the giant spiders, the people he met in the villages, and the new friends he’d made in his unit. His new brothers. The ones he never had.

Garrett would mention the missions he had to go on, never into detail, but there was always communication. When that ended, her world had crashed to a halt.

College was hell. She was lucky to have graduated at all after all of the classes she skipped, all the frat boys she’d tried to start relationships with, only to be used as a sex toy.

She watched him walk down the hallway to his bedroom and close the door.

Isla may have been an impulsive person, driven by a desperate need for love and affection. She was also a patient person.

She’d wait until he was ready. Garrett was worth it. He was worth more than all of her money in the bank, and she planned on making sure he knew it.