by Tracy Brogan
“Half a million dollars and a new work crew?”
He chuckled and slid his palms upward until his hands cupped her face, and he ran his thumbs slowly along her jaw. “Well, yes, but I don’t happen to have that. What I do have, however”—he leaned his body forward, capturing her between the bathroom vanity and the broad expanse of his chest—“is a really nice hotel room.”
She leaned her torso back a few inches, looking up at him. “Ryan Taggert, are you trying to take advantage of me when I’m in such a vulnerable state?”
He looked thoroughly unapologetic. “I suppose that’s a matter of perspective, because what I think I’m trying to do is make you feel better. The fact that I will also be making myself feel better in the process is just a perk.” He kissed her temple softly. “So how about we go back to my very nice hotel room, have a few drinks, talk about some potential solutions to those problems, or we could just sit on the balcony and enjoy the nice evening breeze. Doesn’t that sound good?”
“Drinks on the balcony? That’s what you’re suggesting?”
He shrugged. “Or whatever. You know. Your call.”
This had been one doozy of a day. Chloe’s desire to move, Jewel’s crazy news, Tiny nearly breaking his ankle, the attack of the killer screen door, and all the stress of what to do with her future—it was all just too much. Ryan was right. Emily needed a break. A release. Good Lord, did she ever. One year and seven months was far too long to wait. And besides that, she liked him. A lot. He made her feel good, and if she let him, he could probably make her feel even better.
“I can’t go to your hotel room, Ryan.”
His optimistic expression fell. “You can’t?”
She slid her hands up his thick arms and looped them around his neck. “No. I can’t wait that long.” She leaned forward, reaching up on her toes until her face was nearly level with his soulful eyes and wistful smile. “I can’t wait any longer at all.” She pressed her lips to his and kissed him with all the longing that had been building up inside her for weeks. Ryan groaned low in his throat, wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her up tightly against him.
“I like the way you think.”
“I like the way you do a lot of stuff,” she murmured against his cheek.
“Oh, you have no idea the stuff I have planned for you.”
He backed out of the bathroom and into the living room, not letting her out of his embrace. It was clumsy and silly and deliciously arousing to be pressed against him as he moved. He was all angles and hard planes where she was soft and curvy, and yet they fit together perfectly. He sat back down on the velvet surface, pulling her with him so her legs went on either side of his hips, and his . . . enthusiasm was obvious.
It left her feeling breathless and exhilarated and entirely feminine in all the best ways.
He bounced a little, releasing his hold on her to press on the seat cushions, and then he shook his head. “That thing is too narrow and not nearly strong enough for what I have in mind.” Her laughter caught in her throat, and her eyes widened as she saw the intensity in his. She’d thought he was kidding. Now she wasn’t so sure, but that was just fine. They’d revved up the engines while kissing on top of that lighthouse. They’d kicked the tires on her porch swing the other night. Now it was time to go for a ride. A fast ride. And she was so ready.
His hands moved up her legs to her hips, his fingers spread wide, his thumbs tracing along the inside of her thighs. He paused the movement just as he reached the hemline of her shorts, and those thumbs of his were dangerously close to touching her just where she wanted to be touched.
His gaze locked with hers. “Are you sure about this? I don’t really want to take advantage of your vulnerable state.”
“I’m sure. So very sure. But . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“What?”
“Um, protection?”
His smile was equal parts smug and grateful. “Gotcha covered. Or, got myself covered.” He leaned to the side, taking her listing with him as he jostled the wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a foil packet.
“You just happen to have that?”
“I do. I’ve been waiting for this for weeks.”
“For weeks? You have?” Her skin flushed all over.
He nodded fast. “Pretty much since the first day I met you. I’m an optimist.”
“I can’t tell if I should be flattered or feel like I’ve fallen into a trap.”
“Flattered. By all means feel flattered.”
She was flattered, and she was going to make the most of this. Chloe was running around with friends, Gigi was playing bingo at the community hall, the work crew was long gone, and no one was expecting her anyplace anytime soon, so the next hour was going to be all for her and all for Ryan. She leaned forward and kissed him, clutching the fabric of his shirt and tugging it upward, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head and off of his arms. His breath hitched and he sat up straight when her hands came into contact with his skin and ran over his shoulders. He was smooth and muscular, steel wrapped in velvet under her palms. Yes, she was definitely going to make this count.
“Do you know what you are, Emily Chambers?” He breathed against her throat. “You’re the kind of woman a man wants to make promises to.”
“Good,” she said. “Then promise me this is going to be awesome.”
He chuckled, deep from his chest. “I promise. It’s going to be awesome.”
Chapter 25
“After paying closing costs on the Disaster-ville house, paying you back, and then paying off my other debts, I figure I’ll have enough left over to take care of Chloe and myself for about six or eight months. Assuming I can find a decent place to live.”
Emily and her grandmother were sitting in Gigi’s kitchen sipping their morning coffee, and she was filling her in on all the latest happenings. Well, not all the latest. She didn’t mention anything about Ryan, of course, but told her all the stuff about Jewel and the San Antonio house.
“Jewel was charging me a ridiculously low rent, so those costs are going to triple. Plus utilities and taxes and such. I’m definitely going to have to get a different job because I can’t afford to buy another flip, and Chloe might even have to transfer to a different school.”
“That would be awesome!” Chloe said, peeking her head around the corner of Gigi’s kitchen. “I hate my school.”
“You are not supposed to be eavesdropping.” Emily had thought Chloe was still asleep.
“I’m just saving time. You know there are no secrets on this island. I’d find out eventually.” She had them on that. It was general knowledge that most secrets on this island were general knowledge.
“Can we move here, Mom? I would love to move here.” Chloe was practically bouncing in her fuzzy slippers and Harry Potter pajamas.
Gigi grinned. “Of course you can move here. Problem solved. Martini anyone?”
“That does not solve my problems, Gigi. I can’t move back here. Chloe, we can’t move back here. Gigi, you may not have a martini at eight thirty in the morning.” Had everyone gone crazy?
“Why can’t we move here?” Chloe said. “You don’t have a job, we don’t have a place to live, and if I have to change schools anyway, I may as well transfer here. It would be really cool to go to the same place you went. And Aunt Brooke would be my science teacher, unless she becomes the mayor. And I could see what it’s like here in the winter. I have always wanted to try winter.”
“But what about your friends in Texas?”
“Um, the ones who call me giraffe and make fun of my freckles? Those friends? Yeah, I’m okay leaving them behind.”
“Well, then, what about my friends?” Emily said.
Chloe paused for a moment, looking back at her as if she didn’t quite know how to break this news. “Um, I don’t mean to be mean or anything, Mom, but who are your friends? I mean, I know you go out sometimes, but mostly it seems like you just work and do s
tuff with me and Jewel.”
“Are you suggesting I don’t have any friends? I have friends. There’s um . . . let’s see. There’s . . . well, okay, so I don’t have a ton of super-close friends, but I have a vast network of superficial acquaintances.”
“You have friends here,” Gigi said. “Gloria and the drunk puzzle girls, and you have your sisters and me and your cousins. I think it’s all settled.”
“It’s not all settled. Please, Gigi, don’t make this harder.”
“I’m not trying to make it harder. I’m trying to make it easier. There are six bedrooms in this house and just me living here. I have more than enough room. Plus, I want you to renovate the rest of my cottages.”
“Oh, see, Mom? Now you have a job here. Just consider it, please. You said you wanted me to like it here, right? You succeeded. Well done! I like to hike and bike. And eat fudge. You like fudge, right?” Chloe nodded and lifted her eyebrows.
Emily smiled. “I do like fudge.”
“Excellent. It’s decided,” Gigi said. “Now I can really show those Mahoney sisters that I’m the rental queen. Not to mention the fact that Bridget O’Malley was not looking that great in church last week. She cannot be long for this world, bless her decrepit old heart. We could pool our money and buy her place. I’d love to add another rental to my roster. And I won’t even have to marry anyone to do it!”
Emily felt herself filling up with gratitude, but also filling up with caution. “Oh, Gigi, that is so generous. It really is, but I can’t let you support me that way. I need to be supporting Chloe and myself . . . by myself.”
“You will be doing it by yourself. I’d be hiring you, not offering charity. You think I could get anyone else I trusted and who would put so much blood, sweat, and tears into one of my places? You’ve been doing a wonderful job at that cottage over the past month, and so far, you’re doing it fast and on budget. I have to be honest, kid. I had my doubts, but now I’m sure you can handle the job.”
“You didn’t think I could do it?”
“Nope, but I’m always willing to bet on you.”
There was a compliment in there someplace. Maybe. “Well, don’t go counting those chickens, Gigi. The place isn’t finished yet.”
“I am not the least bit worried, and listen, Delores Crenshaw was looking a little frail at church last week, too, and her cottage is right next door to the place you’re working on now. You know, it occurs to me that I could be your business partner. I won’t do any actual work, of course, but I can tell you who seems likely to die next so we can be first in line with an offer.”
“Wow. That’s morbid yet clever,” Emily said, standing up. “You guys have given me a lot to think about, but right now I have to get over to the cottage and see how my crew is doing. Yesterday, they wasted an hour trying to get a faucet to work before realizing Horsey had turned off the water supply to the house to do some plumbing upstairs.”
Gigi’s confidence might be misplaced. There was still plenty to do on that cottage renovation. And Chloe’s desire to move here was most certainly influenced by the fact that she’d been on vacation for the past several weeks. She might change her tune when the harsh weather hit and she was back in school. Still, it was worth considering.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter 26
“Will we be witnessing your skills with the greased pole, Mr. Taggert?”
It was Independence Day on Trillium Bay, and Vera VonMeisterburger was in charge of fun and games. A fact which Ryan found ironic because nothing about her said fun, and nothing about her said games. Except maybe the Hunger Games. She seemed like the type who would thrive in a dystopian society pitting little children against each other.
“Here is a sign-up sheet,” she said, waving a clipboard at him. “There are also contests for watermelon seed spitting, hot dog eating, and pie eating as well. Or if you fancy carnival-type games, we have several, as you can see.” She gestured toward Trillium Pointe, which was full of striped tents, kites flying, banners waving, and so much red, white, and blue that there was no mistaking what day it was.
Ryan looked around, hoping to spot Emily. His chest whumped at the thought of her, and after their last few romantic encounters, he was getting suspiciously close to understanding how his father felt about Lilly. Something about those Callaghan women was simply irresistible. They’d found a few stolen moments over the past few days and had made the most of every one of them, and damn, if he didn’t start thinking about something else soon, he’d be pitching a tent of his own.
Off toward the library, Ryan saw the beekeeper playing an accordion next to a man playing the banjo. A patriotic little dog sitting next to them had been dyed with red and blue stripes, and all around him were kids running and playing, adults smiling and laughing. It was a slice of pure Americana.
“The greased pole, Mr. Taggert,” Mrs. VonMeisterburger said again, tapping his forearm with the clipboard. “I’m sure we’d all very much enjoy seeing you scale that mighty rod.”
“What? Oh, no. Sorry, no pole climbing for me today.” He walked toward a hot dog stand and saw Brooke and Gigi sitting at a picnic table. They smiled and waved. There was Yoga Matt, throwing softballs at a target while half a dozen young women cheered him on. June Mahoney and her sisters walked by and pretended not to know him, while old Bridget O’Malley sat on a bench wearing wraparound sunglasses that were as big as ski goggles.
Fifteen minutes of wandering around and still no Emily, but he did finally find his dad. They said their hellos, and Ryan couldn’t help but notice his dad looked fatigued.
“You feeling good, Dad? You look a little tired.” He rested a hand on Tag’s shoulder.
Tag shook his head. “Just up late with Lilly.”
“Oh, got it. No specifics, please.”
“No, it’s not that. We had a fight. She still doesn’t want to tell her father about us because Emily has her so convinced that Harlan is never going to speak to her again. I think the longer we wait, the worse it will seem. It’s not as if we’re doing anything wrong.”
Ryan felt his face scrunch a bit. “Well . . .”
Tag frowned. “Okay, ageism aside, Lilly and I are two responsible, single adults. All this sneaking around is ridiculous, and I don’t like keeping secrets from people. It’s just not in my nature.”
“I know it’s not, Dad, and if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it’s much of a secret. My impression here is that everyone knows except Harlan.”
“They do? Well, that does it then. I’m telling Harlan today.”
“Today? With all these explosives around? You might want to rethink that.” Ryan looked around, counting how many nearby items Harlan could use as a weapon of Tag destruction.
“No.” Tag’s tone was adamant. “I don’t want to rethink it. We’ve tried it Lilly’s way, and all it’s done is make me feel deceitful and a little foolish. You know, I’ve played poker now for three weeks in a row with Harlan, and I can’t mislead him anymore. I have too much integrity for that. Plus, I like him.”
“You like him?” Ryan looked back at his father.
“Yes.”
“Harlan Callaghan?”
“Yes.”
“Chief of Police Harlan Callaghan?”
“Yes. Stop it. I know who I’m talking about.”
“Okay then.” Ryan shook his head. “I hope you like him well enough to be his son-in-law because there is a good possibility he’s going to want you to do right by his daughter. This is where I feel compelled to remind you he has a gun.”
“I know he has one, but he never carries it.”
“That works in your favor then. It’ll give you time to get away when he goes to load it.”
Tag did not seem to appreciate his humor. “You’re obnoxious. Have I ever told you that?”
“Yes, but I think I’m also right this time. Go ahead and tell him if you want to, but maybe don’t do it when he’s trying to monitor all the Fourth of July stuff
and all the extra tourists. He’s pretty busy today, and I think that might be kind of a sit-down-over-cigars-and-whiskey kind of conversation.”
Tag looked frustrated, but Ryan could see him working through the various scenarios. “I suppose you’re right,” he finally said. “It’s gone on this long. I guess a few more days won’t matter.”
“Right, and in the meantime, we can spit some watermelon seeds. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“Mom, we should take Grandpa a snow cone,” Chloe said, pointing to the top of the hill where Harlan stood surveying the festivities. “He looks kind of hot, don’t you think?”
Emily shielded her eyes and looked in his direction. He was in one of his favorite locations, standing at the crest of Leelanau Hill, leaning against the fence. She knew that from that vantage point he could see most of the park and keep an eye on all the people and the happenings, like a guard in a watchtower.
She didn’t really want to hoof it all the way up that hill, but it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort to do something nice. He had stopped by Gigi’s cottage the other day and almost, very nearly said she was doing a moderately acceptable job.
“Okay, let’s do it,” Emily said. They stood in line for five minutes while Mrs. Bostwick explained to the poor teenager scooping the ice that her son, Reed, worked for the governor and was terribly important. Finally, they got a turn, ordered their cherry snow cones, and while Emily paid for them, Chloe got a better offer.
“Mom, Susie Mahoney says I should meet them by the popcorn stand. She’s with everybody. Can I go?”
“I thought you wanted to take a snow cone to Grandpa?”
“Can’t you take it to him?”
“By myself?” Even Emily realized how pathetic that sounded.
Chloe frowned at her. “He’s not so bad as you say, Mom. I think he’s kind of nice. Give him a chance. Isn’t that what you always tell me? Give people the benefit of the doubt?”
Did she say that? It seemed like good advice to give a kid, but not such great advice when talking about Harlan. But now she had two snow cones in her hands, and Chloe was poised to sprint. “Oh, fine. Go find your friends.”