Home to Stay: Anchor Island 3

by Terri Osburn

  “Of course not,” she argued. “And you are not going to be dead in five years. Don’t talk like that.”

  “Don’t you see? Life doesn’t come with guarantees. All we have for sure is today. Why don’t we spend whatever todays we have left together?”

  Was that a proposal? After what she’d just told him? The man was out of his mind, and heaven help her, she was feeling a bit insane herself.

  “Is this one of those living in the moment things?” she asked, dabbing at what were quickly becoming happy tears. “You know I’m not good at those.”

  “No ring,” he said. “We live each day as it comes and if someday we want to do the ring thing, then we’ll do it. Whether that’s in two years or twenty years doesn’t matter.”

  Will thought of all the reasons to say no. The biggest being that if Jeffrey learned of her whereabouts, and that she’d become involved with another man, more than her life would be on the line. But maybe he would never know. He hadn’t found her yet. And the reporter had disappeared without another peep.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes. I’d like to spend my todays with you.” Will let the laughter bubble over, feeling real, true happiness for what might have been the first time in her life. “I think we’ve both lost our minds.”

  “We’re crazy in love, that’s all.” As if the words were as much a surprise to him as to her, Randy stopped and stared wide eyed into hers. “Whoa. I said the L word, didn’t I?”

  Will nodded, the smile on her lips making her cheeks hurt. “You sure did.”

  “Too soon?” he asked, brown eyes twinkling.

  “Perfect timing.” She laid a hand along his cheek. Glancing to the clock over the stove, Will did some quick math. “We each have to leave in less than an hour, and neither of us has taken a shower. I think this means we should take one together.”

  Sweeping her off the stool, Randy carried Will toward the bathroom. “Today is getting better already!”

  Randy wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the tires of his truck never touched the pavement all the way to Nags Head and back. His determination to win Will over had paid off, and sooner than he’d expected. The move felt sudden, but at the same time as if he’d been waiting a lifetime for this day to come.

  For a guy who made a hobby out of taking risks with his life, Randy had never been as daring with his heart. Until Willow Parsons came along. He hadn’t imagined wanting to protect her would lead to the life he never thought he’d have, but then again, miracles happened all the time.

  Kind of nice to have one happen to him.

  With his perfectly fitting tux hanging safely in his closet, Randy strode through the door of Lucas Dempsey’s law firm whistling a classic Bob Marley tune. “Hey there, Gladys,” Randy said, smiling at the brunette behind the reception desk.

  The older woman returned the smile with bright blue eyes. “Howdy, Randy. Are you here to see Mr. Dempsey? I was about to call it a day, but I’m sure the counselor will be here for a while.”

  “Don’t let me hold you up.” Randy stepped toward Lucas’s office door. “I’m sure Frank is waiting to see you.”

  Gladys tossed a lock of mousy-brown hair over her shoulder. “That old coot won’t be seeing much more of me if he doesn’t fix that fence between our houses like I told him to.”

  Gladys and Frank had been together for as long as Randy could remember, even though they’d divorced years ago. They lived in neighboring houses and during the peaceful times, Frank’s truck was usually in Gladys’s driveway. When the war resumed, as it always did, the truck stayed in the mister’s driveway while the mister did anything and everything to make Gladys talk to him.

  They were a cute couple, in an insane, masochistic kind of way.

  “You have a good night then,” Randy said, avoiding eye contact so as not to encourage a rant about all the ways Frank was no good. As Gladys headed for the exit, Randy knocked on the office door.

  “Come in,” replied a voice from the other side. Upon seeing Randy enter, Lucas leapt from his chair. “Is Sid okay? Where is she?”

  Was popping in to see his future brother-in-law so unusual that it would take a tragedy to make it happen?

  “Sit your ass down. Sid is fine.” Closing the door behind him, Randy faced the man behind the desk with arms crossed, wearing his sternest personal trainer expression. “Can’t I come to see you without the dramatics?”

  In all honesty, Randy liked Lucas well enough. The lawyer doted on Sid, which made him a smart man, as well as indicated he had excellent taste and an abundance of patience. But keeping him a little afraid of her big brother seemed like an extra layer of protection for Sid’s heart.

  Lucas remained standing. “Randy, you’ve only come to see me once, and that was to tell me you’d twist me into a pretzel, tie chum around my neck, and drop me as far off the coast as possible if I ever hurt your sister.” Motioning for Randy to take a seat, Lucas returned to his chair. “A threat your sister swears is empty, but we both know better, don’t we?”

  “Sounds like we do.” Randy accepted the offer to sit and got right to the point. “I need to talk to you about a legal issue.”

  With raised brows, Lucas stared hard across the desk. “Are you asking for legal advice?”

  That was one way to put it. “Yes.”

  “Do you want this conversation to stay in this office?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Then you need to hire me.” Lucas pulled a large leather-clad book from his desk drawer.

  Randy bit his cheek and reminded himself his sister loved this man. “Extorting money from your future brother-in-law? That’s pretty shitty, don’t you think?”

  To Randy’s surprise, Lucas rolled his eyes. “Now who’s being dramatic? Give me ten dollars as a retainer. I’ll buy you some of those nasty teas you drink this weekend.”

  Once he’d pulled the money from his wallet and tossed it over the desk, Randy said, “This has to do with Will, but you can’t let her know I talked to you. At least not yet.”

  “I’m intrigued,” Lucas said, pocketing the ten. “But whether I can keep it from her will depend on what you’re about to tell me.”

  Sharing Will’s secrets without a guarantee the deed wouldn’t get back to her was a risk, but Randy was used to those. “There’s a man in Will’s past. A man who hurt her. Bad.” His jaw flexed as he pictured Will’s face as she’d told him the story. “She believes he’s looking for her and, if he finds her, will hurt her again.”

  Lucas grew serious, sitting forward in his chair. “This sounds like a case for the police, not a lawyer. Did she press charges?”

  “She says he’s rich and powerful, and no one would believe her if she told. The bastard put her in the hospital, then had the balls to threaten her not to rat him out.” Randy didn’t see the need to share the part about Will no longer being able to have children. “She took off from the hospital and has been running ever since.”

  A silence fell over the room, broken only by Lucas tapping a pen on the desktop. “Then who is she?”

  “What?”

  “If she’s on the run,” Lucas said, “then she’s not using her real name. Unless she’s an idiot, and Will is in no way an idiot.”

  Randy hadn’t even thought of that. It wasn’t as if he dealt with people trying to stay invisible on a regular basis. Now it was all starting to seem like something out of a movie.

  “I have no idea. She didn’t say anything about her name.” So he’d agreed to spend the rest of his todays with a woman whose name he didn’t even know? “I was so stunned by what she’d told me, I didn’t think to ask.”

  The pen stopped tapping. “Then you don’t know who the asshole is either, do you?”

  Shaking his head, Randy answered, “I did ask where he is, but she evaded the question. I think she knew I’d go find him.”

  “You’ll have backup if that ever happens.” Lucas turned to a clean page in the yellow legal p
ad on his desk. “What else do we know?”

  Randy replayed the conversation in his mind. “That’s it. He hurt her. He’s looking for her. And she’s afraid of him.”

  Lucas set the pen down slowly, then rubbed his temples. “What exactly did you want me to tell you here? We don’t know where he is. We don’t know who he is. Hell, we don’t even know who Willow is. Was this supposed to be a ‘What if?’ conversation?”

  “We need to protect her,” Randy said, bolting from the chair. “There has to be some legal way to get him out of her life. To make sure he can’t hurt her again.”

  “I can’t eliminate a threat if I don’t know what it is.” Lucas kept his voice calm, almost soothing. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else? Something we could use against him, if we ever get his identity? Something besides threats that only she can verify?”

  The baby.

  “There might be something.”

  Randy debated what to do. If he told, it would be breaking the ultimate confidence. But Lucas could help them. As much as Randy would rather break the son of a bitch in half, getting his ass thrown in jail wouldn’t help anything.

  “Give me something I can use, or we’re wasting our time.”

  Dropping back into the chair, Randy tapped a nervous rhythm on his knee. She’d said there was a doctor. Surely he or she could back her up. Deciding he had no other choice, Randy told Lucas the rest of the story.

  CHAPTER 23

  Spill,” Beth said, popping up beside Will’s chair and scaring the bejeezus out of her.

  “What the heck is wrong with you?” Will held a hand over her heart. “I nearly peed myself.”

  Beth set her pie on the table and slid into the chair across from Will. “I’m going to be a barge soon. I’m taking advantage of still being able to sneak up on people.” She buried her fork deep in the cherry filling. “From what I hear, you’ve been aflutter all day. Patty said every time she saw you, you were humming a happy tune. I’m sure this has to do with Randy, so I’m giving you the chance to fess up before Sid gets here.”

  Trying unsuccessfully to wipe the smirk off her face, Will cut her rhubarb pie into pieces. “You know she called me bipolar last week? I think she might have been right.”

  Freezing with the fork in midair, Beth looked skeptical. “Are you saying a mental disorder and not regular sex with Randy Navarro is what has you looking so happy?”

  “I didn’t say that.” She pondered a car passing outside. “Maybe the regular sex is making me bipolar? Regardless, it’s making me more limber.”

  “You finally putting those yoga pants to work?” Sid asked, taking the chair next to Beth with a cupcake in her hand. “It should be illegal to stay so damn thin without doing a lick of exercise.”

  “She’s exercising,” Beth said. “But it’s not yoga.” Shoving a large bite in her mouth, the mom-to-be tried looking innocent but failed miserably.

  Sid stopped removing the paper from around her dessert. “You’re talking about sex with Randy, aren’t you? Please spare me the details. I’m happy y’all are both getting some, but there are things I don’t want or need to know about my brother.”

  “After all the PDA we’ve had to endure from you and Lucas, it’s only fair we get to torture you back. But it’s not the sex that has me happy. At least not today.”

  She’d made the conscious decision that morning to leave the past where it belonged. It had been well over a year since Will arrived on Anchor, and Jeffrey had yet to find her. He’d most likely given up or, God forbid, found another woman to obsess over. That was the awful part, knowing he could do to another what he’d done to her. But then maybe another woman wouldn’t be the easy target that Will had been.

  Both women stopped eating and stared expectantly. “Come on,” Beth urged. “Tell us.”

  “I’m not sure how to explain it.” It wasn’t as if they’d decided to get married. That would be crazy after such a short romance. But they’d sort of agreed that someday they might consider getting married. Of course, she’d have to tell him her real name by then.

  “You’re killing me, woman,” Sid said. “Did you win the lottery or something? What?”

  On a steadying breath, Will said quickly, “Randy and I have agreed to be a couple.”

  No excitement came from the other side of the table. Instead, the women looked at each other, perplexed. Finally, Beth said, “I thought you already were a couple.”

  “No. We were having sex.”

  Beth snorted, then covered her mouth. Sid was less successful at holding in the laughter.

  Will didn’t understand what was so funny. Then she thought about what she’d said and started laughing with them. As they each caught their breath, she said, “Let me try this again. Randy and I were kind of having a fling. Sex only. I was serious about not committing to anything.”

  “So what changed your mind?” Beth asked, wiping her eyes. “I’m assuming you’re committed now.”

  “She should be,” Sid said. “Wasn’t it last week we had this serious talk about why you couldn’t settle down and be in a real relationship? How there were complications none of us knew about? What happened to those?”

  That was the tougher question. Technically, those complications still existed, only now Will refused to let them rule her life.

  “Let’s say I’m working around them.”

  Licking cherry filling off her finger, Beth said, “So this is real? You and Randy are the real thing?”

  Will smiled, feeling a pleasant heat travel up her cheeks. “Yeah. We’re the real thing.”

  After several seconds of silence, Sid raised a large chunk of chocolate cupcake into the air as if making a toast. “It’s about fucking time.”

  Rebecca King had done her homework. She’d even triple-checked her sources. Maybe right now no one knew where Maria Van Clement might be. But everyone would know Sunday morning when her whereabouts would be headline news, with Rebecca’s name in the byline.

  Rebecca gave herself a mental pat on the back. No more shitty travel jobs. No more twenty-four-hour flights in coach. No more being ignored and invisible in the world of journalism.

  But this story would do more than get her credit as a true reporter. No, this story would get Rebecca’s face on television. That’s where she belonged. In the spotlight. On camera. Not buried on some remote island making dorky pirate crap sound like fun for the whole family.

  Will Parsons would likely be on TV as well. Quaint that she’d been using her father’s last name. The Van Clements wouldn’t like that part. It was obvious from the research that their golden child sinking to reproduce with the gardener had been a blow to family pride.

  Their old money wouldn’t be able to protect them when this story hit the stands. Though Rebecca was curious if Maria knew she was the last remaining heir. The bartender was a very wealthy woman. Seemed a waste to hide out on that dinky island when she could likely buy the whole damn thing.

  “What are you up to, Rebecca?” asked Jude as he stormed up to her cubicle.

  She spun in her chair, smile firmly in place. “Since when do you wander freely around the Globe offices, Jude? And shouldn’t you be on some assignment in Timbuktu or something?”

  “Don’t piss with me. You swiped the disk of pictures from that Anchor assignment,” Jude said. “What do you want with those images?”

  The man was such an idiot, he didn’t even know what he had on that tiny disk. Flicking the edge of her nail, she went for ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no use for pictures of water, sand, and useless souvenir shops.” Which was technically true. “You’ll have to look elsewhere for your disk thief.”

  With a huff, the annoying Brit crossed his arms. “What do they have you doing here anyway? Writing up the obits? Checking for spelling errors in the articles written by real reporters?”

  The man was such a shit. “This conversation is over,” she said, smacking the spacebar on her keyboard
to bring the screen to life. “I have work to do.”

  “I bet you do.” Jude leaned his elbows on the edge of the cube. “If I see a single one of those pictures show up anywhere they’re not supposed to be, I’m coming for you. Remember that, my darling Becks.”

  He stared at her for several seconds, as if he might intimidate her into tears, before walking away. Rebecca didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the wind rushed out of her. Let him come after her. By the time Jude saw that picture, she’d have done what she set out to do.

  Lola’s Island Arts & Crafts looked as if a party store had been thoroughly raided. Dark blue and white crepe paper were braided together and draped along every shelf. Some had even been stuffed inside vases, making it look as if the ceramics had eaten it, then thrown it back up.

  Not exactly gaudy, but close.

  A large sign wishing Beth and Joe the best of luck hung across the wall behind the front counter, with a large chunk missing from the corner.

  “What happened to the sign?” Will asked Lola, who had greeted her at the door with a punch-filled paper cup.

  “The only one Sid could find was for a graduate, so she cut the picture of the cap off.” Pointing to the other corner, she added, “The diploma is supposed to be the marriage certificate. No one has had the heart or guts to tell Sid it’s not fooling anyone.”

  “Speaking of the little party planner.” Will searched the room for the dark-haired pixie. “Where is she?”

  “Helping Opal load up the dessert trays in the back room. From what I’ve seen, there’s enough food to feed the entire island.” Lola held up her own cup of punch. “Not that I’m complaining.” The older woman led the way farther into the store. “Beth is back by the jewelry section. Come on.”