ANOTHER DAY IN Georgia, another brisk walk across the lobby of AnaVoge, and another denial coming. I could feel it before I stepped through the glass double doors first thing Monday morning, and I could see it on the receptionist’s face as she glanced up at me and gave me a tight smile.

“Hello again, Mr. Davenport.”

“Good morning, Astrid,” I said. “I’d like to see Mr. Vogel.” It was pretty damn pitiful that I was on a first-name basis with the receptionist at AnaVoge, but after getting nothing but the company’s voicemail all weekend, I was ready for some face time with the enigmatic CEO. Anything to get my mind off the events of the weekend and a certain other man I didn’t need to be thinking about.

“I’m afraid Mr. Vogel is unavailable—”

“Of course he is.”

“But he did wish to set up a meeting with you for Thursday afternoon at two.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Four days from now?”

“Yes, sir.”

This guy was playing hard to get, and he was good at making me sweat it out, I’d give him that. His delaying tactic wouldn’t deter me, though, so if Thursday was what he wanted, then Thursday it’d be.

“Then I suppose two o’clock is fine,” I said.

“I’ll mark you down now.”

Drumming my fingers on the counter, I glanced at the clock on the wall and inwardly sighed. It was only nine on Monday morning, which meant I had quite a bit of time to kill, and since it didn’t make much sense to fly back to Connecticut only to come right back, it looked like I was stuck here. There had to be something to occupy my time, something other than dance clubs and men with black hair, angry eyes, and cocky smirks.

I pushed that thought back into the far recesses of my mind. For now.

“One more thing,” I said, and Astrid glanced up. “Since it looks like I’ll be here for a while longer, could you recommend any must-sees in town?”

“Oh, of course,” she said, brightening, as though she’d expected a fight and was pleased I’d let it go. “Let’s see…there’s always the beach. Make sure you go to Dolphin Sands, because it’s the best public beach on the island and there’s a great bar on the pier. You can also find some shops along the boardwalk, but that’s mostly tourist stuff, like t-shirts, keychains, beach souvenirs. The real shopping is over on Ocean Avenue. Lots of artsy stuff, like galleries and bookstores. Some good cafes and restaurants over there, too.”

With a smile, I nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

As I turned to leave, a huge metal sculpture on the wall to my right caught my eye. It was circular, an abstract painting on metal with lines of silver, blues, and deep purples weaved in smooth lines. Only a serious artist could’ve wielded the metal and paint so flawlessly, and I stood there admiring the artwork for a good minute. Something like that would look perfect in my office.

“Excuse me,” I said, heading back to the front desk. “Could you tell me where I might find something like that piece over there?”

“Yeah, that’s one of our local artists. He sells his stuff at the galleria over at the end of Ocean Avenue.”

Looks like I’ll be making a stop. “Great. Thanks again, Astrid.”

“No problem, Mr. Davenport. See you Thursday.”

THE FIRST THING I did after leaving AnaVoge was pick up a rental car, and then I left a message with my father’s secretary to let him know my trip had been extended. He wouldn’t be happy about the news, but it was better than the alternative—walking away empty-handed.

After grabbing a coffee, I made my way down Ocean Avenue. There was a Freymond Galleria on the corner, and I was able to grab street parking, which was surprising, considering all the traffic I’d seen on the way there. Granted, it’d been heading in the opposite direction, but still.

There was an older gentleman just outside the store, picking up a pop-up sidewalk sign that told of the specials going on inside the galleria. I checked my watch again. Surely they couldn’t be closing at ten in the morning. Maybe he’s just changing out the signage, I thought, as a sudden gust of wind kicked up around us, causing the man to stumble backward. I ran over and caught his arm just in time, keeping him upright as he clung to the sign.

His eyes crinkled around the edges as he straightened and gave a weary chuckle. “Thank you. I’m not as sturdy as I used to be.”

“It’s no problem. Can I take that inside for you?” I said, nodding at the sign.

“I’d appreciate that.”

I followed as he headed toward the door. “Are you guys still open?”

“That we are, though we’re closin’ up early since the storm’s comin’.”

My brow furrowed as I looked up at the darkening sky. “You close when it rains?”

“Rain?” The man shook his head. “That there’s Tropical Storm Adelaide. A little early in the season, but not unheard of.”

Damn. That was what I got for being so preoccupied the past couple of days. “I didn’t realize…”

“Nah, shouldn’t be too bad, but it’s picked up speed, so we’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Right. Well, I’ll come back—”

“No, no, don’t be silly, come on in.” He held the door open wide for me to pass by, and as I stepped through, I was greeted by an enormous lion, made entirely of—

“Are those tires?” I asked.

“Sure are. More where that came from, but we keep ’em in the back, since the reptiles seem to scare the kiddies.”

Right…

“I appreciate you bringing that in for me,” the man said, clapping me on the shoulder as I set down the sign. “I’ve got to get a few things done before I head out, so look around and take your time. The name’s Mike. Let me know if you have any questions or if I can help you find something.”

“Thanks, Mike. I won’t be too long.”

I didn’t have to venture far to find what I was looking for. An entire section of the store near the front was dedicated to the artist whose work I’d seen at AnaVoge. From modern abstract table sculptures, to multi-panel wall art, the style was instantly recognizable, brushed metal with a pop of color. The pieces were so beautiful that I couldn’t stop staring.

“You like those?” Mike said, coming up behind me a few minutes later. “We get so many requests for his stuff we almost can’t keep anything in stock.”

“I’m not surprised. I saw a piece at AnaVoge and that’s what sent me down here.”

“Ah, the abstract. I know exactly which one you mean. Not to show bias, but that’s my favorite too.”

I ran my fingers over a rectangular wall piece, and while it was stunning, it wasn’t quite what I’d come for. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of those round abstracts, would you?”

“As a matter of fact, we just sold out of the last one the other day, but let me give him a call, see if he’s got any more up his sleeve,” Mike said, moving behind the counter.

“That’s not necessary—”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all.”

“Really, you don’t have to…” I started, but he was already dialing the number. As he began to speak to the person on the other end of the line, I wandered off a bit to give him some space.

The shop was packed with art, not so much that it seemed junked up, but maybe it was the variety of the designs that made it feel so unusual. Along with the stunning metalwork, there were also framed paintings lining the walls, some with watercolor landscapes, some abstracts, and others along the lines of human caricatures. There were more animals made from recycled tires like I’d seen when I walked in, hidden in the back just like he’d said, and papier-mâché tree spirits littered the tops of tables scattered around.

Eclectic was the word I’d use to describe this place.

“Well,” Mike said as he hung up and I headed back over. “Looks like it’s your lucky day. He just finished a couple variations of those pieces over the weekend and said you can swing on by and grab one.”

“Swing on by? Like…by his house?” I must’ve looked as bewildered as I felt, because Mike laughed.

“That’s just how we do things down here. If you’d rather pick it up here, that’s no problem. It just might take a couple of days before he can drop them off.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t mind going by to pick it up.” Yeah, it’s definitely a different world down here. Something I found I’d forgotten since I’d been away.

“Great,” he said, tearing off some receipt paper and jotting down the address in a messy scrawl. “Oh, and make sure to take cash or check, since he doesn’t have a card reader.”

I took the address and shook his hand. “Will do.”

“You got it. I hope you find exactly what you’re lookin’ for.”

THE SKY WAS a moody grey, and getting darker by the minute. Fat droplets splattered the windshield as I drove down the two-lane road my GPS had directed me to turn on a couple of minutes ago. This was the part of the island I’d always heard referred to as “old money,” and driving through it, it was evident why. The houses were larger, older, but statuesque in the colonial style, many with columns or wraparound porches perfect for lazy days and mint juleps. With the section of Spanish-moss-draped oak trees up ahead, curved over the road like they were holding hands, it was easy to forget that sandy beaches lay only a couple of miles away.

As I passed through the overhang, I remembered the first time I’d been driven down this way. At the end of the line of trees, my father’s driver had made a right, which led down a long road that took you to South Haven All-boys Academy, the prestigious school I’d been shipped off to for my high school years.

But, if you kept going straight, the way the GPS was telling me to go, the road led to a place I’d been to quite a few times before.

Please don’t let me pass by there. Anywhere but there.

Yeah, but that’s the thing about cell phone maps—they don’t fucking listen.

The farther I drove, the more anxious I began to feel. No way. The island was small, but it couldn’t be this small.

It was.

Stopping in front of the long driveway at 18 Braden, the last one at the end of the road, I couldn’t believe my shitty luck. Of all the people and all the places, I had to wind up here. At the house that belonged to Lucas’s gram.

I sat there, hands sweating and engine idling, as a surge of nerves came flooding in. Did she still live there? It was highly likely. Although there was a possibility she sold the property to the designer who was now expecting me…

On the other hand, I doubted the home wasn’t still in the family, which meant she or Lucas or both might be inside. In that case, I could drive back to town now and no one would be the wiser.

The latter also meant I’d miss my chance to say the “I’m sorry” speech I’d thought about all weekend after I’d failed to utter anything remotely close on Friday. The one that should’ve come out of my mouth the second I saw Lucas.

Without another second of pause, I pushed on the gas and turned into the driveway.

The old Sullivan house sat back off the road, hidden by thick trees until you drove about a hundred yards in, and then it opened up into a huge clearing with the residence on the far side. A white two-story with oversized double balconies, the house stood tall and regal against the oak and magnolia trees it backed up against. It looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen it, albeit with a fresh coat of paint.

Putting the car in park behind a black truck, I gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath. If Lucas lived here, then this was probably a good thing. Being able to talk face to face without the background of an alley or a club or any other distractions. I could still see the indifference in his face from Friday, the cold shoulder he’d given. But was that who he’d be when he was alone with me without an audience?

One way to find out.

The rain was still a steady sprinkle when I got out of the car, not yet enough to warrant an umbrella, though if there was a storm heading this way then that wouldn’t be the case for too much longer. Just as I was about to head up the front sidewalk, though, the sound of screeching metal stopped me in my tracks and had me switching directions toward the backyard instead.

Rounding the house, I picked up on the sweet smell of honeysuckle in the air that mixed with the fresh rain and warm breeze. That combination always reminded me of the nights we’d sat in rocking chairs on his gram’s back porch and watched the thunderstorms pass before sneaking back to the academy. Back then I hadn’t even realized what was happening. That I was falling into something I wasn’t prepared for and wouldn’t be able to control. And now, more than anything, I needed to understand. To have some sort of closure on that chapter of my life, because years hadn’t taken away the way my heart punched inside my chest every time I thought of Lucas.

Gone was the original small shed that’d stored Gram’s gardening tools, and in its place was a garage big enough to accommodate a couple of pontoon boats. Judging from the sound of continued whirring and shrieking of machinery coming from the wide-open barn-style doors, though, it didn’t seem as though it housed boats or cars.

My suspicions were confirmed as I peeked inside. The man standing at a worktable with sparks flying out in front of him was definitely Lucas. Even with his face covered by protective gear and facing away from me, I could tell by the way the red flannel shirt he wore stretched against his strong back and how the snug fit of his jeans only enhanced his ass— Wait. Shit.

Running my hand through my hair, I tried to avert my eyes, but they kept coming back to the lone man in the large space. I didn’t need to look at him that way. It wasn’t right, and besides, like he’d want me standing there checking him out. Because, shit, that was what I’d been doing—checking him out.

The thought left me stunned. After leaving South Haven, I’d checked out plenty of guys when no one was watching, waiting to feel the same attraction I’d felt for Lucas. But it never came. Sure, I’d notice if a guy was hot, but it was the same way I noticed women were hot—and since it was women who came on to me, women I’d get set up with or pushed toward, then they’d only been the natural progression.

I’d convinced myself it had all been a fluke. That Lucas and I had been the product of being horny teenage guys in an all-boys school who’d grown close and were open to experimenting. Going back to Connecticut, I thought it’d be easier to forget him…

But looking at him now only feet away from me… How had I ever walked away?

Lucas shut off the machine then, throwing the whole room into a deafening silence, and after setting it on the table, he lifted the front of his mask. His back was still to me, but I could tell the moment he knew I was there because his whole body went completely still.

And then, without even turning around, he said, “What are you doing here?”