“Yeah,” Sam grunted, kind of hoping Tim would take the hint and walk away. He really wasn’t in the mood to discuss Cara’s recent actions.
“Crazy, right? But it’s a good idea, too,” Tim continued, ignoring Sam’s discomfort.
“How is that a good idea? Cara and Matteo? Ridiculous. That guy is so irresponsible . . .”
“Whoa, careful. No, he isn’t,” Tim held up a hand warningly. “You only know summer Matteo. His whole laid-back-charming-idiot vibe is an act he puts on for the tourists. Marketing, you know. He’s actually quite smart. He’s finishing up a second master’s degree, and he pretty much spends the off-season reading. Also, he knows this island well and he has mad business skills. I think they’ll do great. You’ve seen what he’s done with his rental shop.”
“Well, I still think Cara could do better,” Sam muttered into his glass.
Tim shrugged. “Maybe. She did talk to Sato about it before too, but with him starting the coffee roasting company and expanding the bakery, he’s stretched awfully thin. Plus, timing-wise, I think he’s going to be busy with other things this winter.”
Sam knew that, while Tim was usually up on all the local gossip, he was dead wrong here. “Sato’s married,” he pointed out, rather drunkenly.
“That doesn’t mean he can’t identify a wise investment when he sees one. And I think it’s wonderful they’re finally turning the Blackhauer property into something worthwhile.”
“The Blackhauer property?” Sam repeated dumbly.
“What land did you think they bought? Most of the rest of the area is all state park, so there’s not much else available to build on, and someone should get some use out of it. Remind me to ask Cara who they’re using to draw up the partnership paperwork. I have something I need to talk to a decent attorney about too.”
“They bought the Blackhauer property?” Sam’s alcohol-addled brain tried to process this new information. Why would they buy that? Were they going to construct their dream house and live happily ever after?
“Sam, I’m cutting you off. You’re obviously too drunk. You know they did. That’s all anybody is talking about. Hell, in the spring when they start building their little eco-village or whatever they’re calling it, I hope they hire Tyrell to do some of the construction. He’s handy with tools.”
“Eco-village?” Sam started to feel like a parrot. He couldn’t seem to make his mind function other than to repeat what Timmy had just said.
“Yeah, eco-village, tiny rental houses, whatever. I heard Matteo is campaigning to call it Cap’n’s Acres, though I doubt that’ll stick. It doesn’t really matter what they finally name it. It will be good to be able to sleep more visitors. We’ve been getting busier every year. Though I do hope nobody else tries to open a bar. I’ve got ideas for expansion, but I’m not looking for competition.”
Sam let Tim’s words wash over him as he sat in stunned silence. Cara went into business with Matteo? It wasn’t romantic? Damn it, Sam had fucked things up again.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Whispering Pines, September 2013
The night air was chilly, so after the usual Wednesday night bonfire ended, Tyrell offered to rebuild it for a small gathering. Sam reflected on how pleasant it was to be out like this, sitting around a fire, surrounded by the noises of the forest and a few good friends. Well, maybe not friends, exactly, not after Sam had embarrassed himself by avoiding Cara and Matteo for days because of a minor misunderstanding.
“I brought the makings for s’mores,” he told them, handing out marshmallows and roasting sticks. It was his way of apologizing without actually saying the words.
“These look funny,” Amy complained, but she took several anyway.
“Hey, don’t judge. It was my first time making them. And I brought whiskey, too.” He pulled the bottle from his backpack and passed it around.
“I don’t like whiskey,” Cara said through a cough after taking a swig.
“I know,” Sam told her with a grin. “I’ve got something special for you.” He tried to hand her a bottle of rum.
“Gotta pour one out first.” Matteo grabbed the rum before Cara could touch it and poured a little on the ground. “That’s for our fallen comrade, Sato. May he rest in marital bliss.”
Everyone laughed and Amy threw a pebble at him. “Stop wasting good alcohol! And this is a staff party. You don’t work with us! Go home.”
Matteo ignored her and sat on the log next to Cara, handing her the bottle. Sam hid his annoyance—he had been planning on sitting there once he finished organizing the s’mores. If Cara and Matteo weren’t together, Matteo had better start backing off. Sam was running out of summer.
“I’m going to miss this in a couple of weeks,” Matteo said suddenly. “I hate the end of the season.”
While it wasn’t fall on the calendar yet, it felt that way. The leaves were turning, and the tourist trade was drying up. There were even openings in Sam’s restaurant this coming weekend, when all the tables were normally fully booked.
“Me too,” Amy admitted. “I feel like Whispering Pines is my home. I can’t wait to get back to traveling, but this is the place I miss when I’m gone. Though I might think differently if I’d ever spent a winter here.”
“Where are you going this year?” Sam asked her. He hadn’t heard anyone’s plans yet. He only knew his own; he had a plane ticket to Aspen, leaving in just over two weeks. It was hard to believe that the season was almost over, and he still hadn’t been able to tell Cara how he truly felt.
“I don’t know exactly,” Amy said slowly. “I wanted to take a trip to Italy, but I haven’t really been invited. I have a job offer from my old boss in Thailand. He’s opening a new resort in December and wants me to help out, so I might take it. They like me there. But that’s not for another couple of months.”
“Do you really need an invitation?” Sam asked curiously. He’d only left the country once, on a ski trip with Lizbet, and she had made all the arrangements. He wasn’t clear on the procedures for acquiring a visa.
“I don’t need one. I want one,” Amy said, twisting her silver bracelet around on her wrist. “It’d be nice to be sure I’m welcome, you know?”
“Actually, I do know.” He looked across the flames at Cara as he spoke, but she was talking to Matteo in a low voice, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t listening.
“What do you do during the winter, Matteo?” Ty asked as he added more sticks to the fire.
“You mean besides clearing my new land? I’ve got a few hundred bikes to clean and fix up, and I maintain property for some of the summer people,” Matteo replied. “Plus, I work out, I read a lot of books, and like everybody else, I grow a huge beard.”
Cara started laughing. “I had forgotten you guys do that. Tyrell, did Timmy tell you about it? The men on the island stop shaving on Halloween. Nobody’s allowed to shave until what, April first? And then they do a big facial hair removal party at the bar. I’ve only seen pictures, but I think it gets hilariously ridiculous. My Uncle Robert used to grow an enormous bushy black beard. He looked kind of terrifying.”
“I remember that,” Amy said. “Cara, remember that year he and Paddy came to visit you for Christmas, and we told my little sisters he was a werewolf? Nikki was so scared she peed herself.”
“Oh.” Ty was quiet for a moment. “I guess I’m going to have a hard time fitting in then. I can’t grow facial hair at all.”
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Cara asked.
“Yeah, it means he lacks hair follicles in his face,” Amy explained, and Cara shoved her backward off the log. Amy threw a handful of pine needles at her as she got up, and both women laughed.
Ty’s grin was wide and happy. “That too. But it also means I’m staying here. Tim asked me to move in with him. Paddy said he might have some hourly work for me this winter, if the inn hosts any weddings or anything, and I’ve got my disability checks, so I can make it through.”
�
��Are you gonna marry him?” Amy grabbed Ty’s left hand to check for a ring.
He pulled it away. “Shut up, Amy. You’re starting to sound like my mother.”
“Notice he didn’t actually answer the question,” Cara pointed out. “We should talk dates so you can have the wedding at the inn, Ty. And I’m glad you’ll be here this winter, so I have someone fun to hang out with.”
“Ahem,” Matteo cleared his throat loudly. “I’m here too. Have you already forgotten me?”
“She said someone fun,” Amy informed him. “You don’t count.”
“I’m ignoring you,” Matteo said. “Ty, be warned. Winters are tough. If you stay here, Timmy’s going to make you go ice fishing. And he’s going to try to talk you into joining his bandy team.”
“I’ve never heard of that. What is it?”
“It’s when you drill a hole in the ice and drop in a fishing line,” Amy offered helpfully.
“It’s a different version of hockey that they play out here.” Cara rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Amy, you are the least helpful person I’ve ever met.”
Sam watched them joking and bantering with each other. If they had another gathering a month from now, only Sam and Amy would be gone. A deep sadness welled up inside him. This had not been the summer he hoped for, and it was mostly his fault.
Chapter Sixty-Six
The bonfire and the supply of alcohol were both dwindling when Cara rose to her feet. “Sorry guys, it’s late, and I have to be up early. I’m tired. I’m going home.”
Matteo immediately jumped up and offered to walk her back.
Sam swore under his breath. “Matteo, you stay. I have to get up early tomorrow too, so I was going to leave anyway.”
“I don’t need an escort,” Cara said as they set off. “I’ve walked this trail a hundred thousand times. I’m positive I can find the staff house on my own.”
“It’s not that. I wake up at the same time you do, remember? Or rather before you do, since I’m the one who makes you coffee.”
The pine forest was dark around them, and once they came around a curve, the firelight disappeared, and they were limited to the faint moonlight that made it through the trees. Neither had brought a flashlight.
“You make me coffee and then you disappear,” she pointed out.
“Not this morning,” he reminded her.
“This morning when you made your bumbling apology because you thought I was sleeping with Matteo? Why would you care anyway?” That last question sounded like a challenge.
“It wasn’t bumbling, I just . . .” He couldn’t finish his sentence because he tripped over a rock and almost fell. To stop himself, he reached out blindly and accidentally grabbed Cara’s hand.
Even though she seemed annoyed, she didn’t pull away. It seemed only natural to hold on and continue holding on to her. Walking with her, alone in the moonlight, slightly tipsy . . . perhaps this would be his best opportunity to finally say what he needed to say. Time is almost up, stop being a coward. What’s the worst that can happen?
When they were nearly back to the house, he stopped walking, tugging on Cara’s hand to halt her next step.
She turned back, confused. “Did you trip again, Sam?”
“No, I’m not that clumsy. I just . . . before we get back, I have something I need to say.” He took a deep breath, and reached out to gently touch her face. She didn’t pull away, and that gave him hope. “I am so sorry about everything. I’m sorry about Phil, and I’m sorry I acted so weird about you and Matteo. I . . . there has been so much I’ve wanted to say to you, and I haven’t been able to. I’m not good at these kinds of things. But I need you to know . . .” He cupped her cheek with his hand.
She stared deeply into his eyes. The moonlight reflecting from the gold glints in her irises was almost too much to handle. She was too beautiful; she made him too nervous.
“Oh, Cara . . .” He hesitated for just an instant too long. I am so in love with you, he was about to say. I am so in love with you, and we belong together and then he would kiss her and afterwards she would tell him she loved him too . . .
The loud snapping of a branch and the sound of running feet interrupted them. They jumped apart almost guiltily just as Amy came barreling down the trail. Damn it, Amy. Her timing was always impeccable.
“Every fucking time,” Cara muttered, which mirrored Sam’s thoughts exactly.
“Oh good, I caught you.” Amy stopped right in between Cara and Sam. “Cara, do you have your keys on you? I need to go down to the office and make a call. I’ve decided to be proactive and get myself that invitation I’ve been waiting for.”
“My keys are in the bedroom. And it’s midnight.”
“Not in Italy.” Amy grinned. “Oh well. I guess I have to stop by the staff house after all. I’ll walk the rest of the way back with you. Come on.” She linked arms with her cousin and dragged her down the path. Cara glanced back once at Sam, and even though it was too dark to read the look in her eyes, he was sure they held regret.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
The sound of Sam’s door opening woke him up. Like in a dream, he saw a long-haired figure slip through the doorway and come closer to him. Without his glasses, he couldn’t make out the numbers on the clock, but no light came through the windows, and Tyrell still slept soundly in his bunk across the room. “Sam?” the woman whispered, and he recognized Cara.
“What’s going on?” he asked, sitting up and looking groggily over at his roommate.
She put a finger to her lips. “Shhhh. I’m doing something daring and reckless. Scoot over.” And she pulled back his blanket and got into his bed.
“Something reckless?” he whispered, his mouth dry. She smelled of campfire, and faintly, as her head neared his he caught an underlying whiff of her strawberry shampoo. Was this really happening? He had wanted her in his bed for years, but he never expected it to happen like this.
“Am I being too daring? Do you want me to go?” She asked in a husky whisper.
He reached out and touched her face and was surprised to find tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just kiss me.”
She didn’t need to tell him twice. She tasted of whiskey and smoke, and her skin felt so soft under his hands. Was this really happening? He rolled on top of her, kissed her deeply . . . and felt nothing. She lay still under him, barely responding.
“Are you okay? This is too soon, isn’t it?” He should have known. What the hell was wrong with him?
“It’s not too soon. I’m single, you’re single, we’re consenting adults. Let’s just get this over with. Put on a condom and fuck me already.” Her fierce whisper made him want to obey, but the words were not the ones he had hoped to hear.
“Get this over with? Are you kidding?” As much as he loved her assertiveness––it was exactly as he’d imagined––this was not how he wanted to do it. He wanted her to want him just as badly as he wanted her. “Look, maybe this isn’t the right time for this. We’re both kinda drunk, and you’re crying. Your ex was an asshole; I’m not.”
“Fuck, Sammy. I’m so heartbroken,” she said, then began sobbing helplessly. He glanced over his shoulder at the other bed to make sure Ty wasn’t waking up and then wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m sorry for what he put you through, I really am. But you should know I’ve been in love with you for years. I promise, I’ll be here to support you as you’re going through this, and I’ll take care of you.”
“Stop,” she said, but she nestled up against his chest and allowed him to comfort her.
“Shhh, go to sleep. We can talk more in the morning. Just know that I love you, okay?” He kissed the top of her head and held her, and she eventually drifted off to sleep. This is it. It’s not starting out as I hoped, but I’m finally going to get everything I’ve ever wanted, he thought to himself before he too sank into sleep.
....................
The telephone ringing in the living room woke him up with a start. He heard running footsteps and someone answered the phone. Who would be calling at this hour? He reached over and held his alarm clock close to his face so he could read the time. 6:15. Shit. They had both overslept. They had. A slow smile crossed his face and he looked over. It wasn’t a dream. Cara was still there, though she had stolen the entire blanket and burrowed so deeply that only part of one arm showed.
A soft knock on the bedroom door startled him. “Sam!” Amy whispered from outside. He put on his glasses and stumbled to the door, carefully opening it only partway so that she couldn’t see past him to the sleeping figure on his bed. He didn’t think Cara would want anyone to know yet.
Cara was the one knocking on his door. No.
Was he dreaming?
It was Cara.
This couldn’t be real.
It was Cara. Fuck.
“Sam, we overslept. We’re really late. Sato just called with the bakery delivery. I’ll run and unlock the kitchen for him and then I’ll come back and shower. You need to hurry up and get down to the restaurant.”
“Cara, I . . .” His words trailed off. He suddenly felt very, very ill.
“No time to deal with a hangover, Sam. We’ve got some birdwatchers who will be at breakfast early.” She started to go, but turned back and added, “Hey, I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation last night. Can we talk later? Maybe after my shift?”
He could only nod. He closed the door, went over to his bed, and pulled back the blanket. Damn it, Amy.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
As soon as he served the last omelet, Sam packed up his station, wheeled the cart back to the kitchen, and asked Sato to take over for a bit so he could talk to Cara. He needed to reach her before Amy.
“Something wrong, man?” Sato asked, starting to put away food and sort the dishes.
“Last night Amy and I kind of . . . well, we, um . . .” Sam tried to explain, but Sato interrupted him with a laugh.
That Last Summer (Whispering Pines Island Book 1) Page 26