by V. K. Sykes
When he took a step forward, his arms reaching for her, she took a quick step back. Her mind could barely process his… offer? Jackson had always made it clear that he didn’t want to live with anyone, even her. Nor she with him, truth be told. That had never been part of their deal.
“What exactly is it that you’re willing to give a try, Jackson?” she asked cautiously. “What kind of a relationship are you talking about? Like roommates?”
He snorted. “Give me a break, for Christ’s sake.”
“What, then?”
“What do you want, an engraved invitation on a gold plate? Asking you to move in is a hell of a big step for me, Hols. You know that.” He threw up his hands. “Hell, I thought this would make you really happy. You’re the first woman I’ve ever asked to do this.”
“Well, thanks for the honor,” she said with a tinge of sarcasm. “But are you talking about sharing our lives? I mean truly sharing?”
In her life with Drew, they’d shared everything, including their deepest emotions.
“Because that’s what… living together… implies to me,” she went on. “Otherwise we really would just be roommates. Or friends with benefits.” The thought of that filled her with distaste.
Jackson shrugged. “I’m not sure what truly sharing means. That’s pretty vague stuff, Hols.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Well, how about the fact that a big part of my life is right here in Seashell Bay? These are my people, Jackson. You can see that, can’t you? Yet you obviously think they’re just a bunch of hicks and old hags.”
Jackson peered at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “Hey, we don’t have to be joined at the hip, do we? Why do I have to tag along when you come north, or have anything to do with this place? I’ve never dragged you out to California and inflicted my family on you, have I?”
“No, you haven’t. And doesn’t that tell you something?”
He waved a hand. “You’re just pissed off that I’m not crazy about this damn island. So what? I don’t care if you want to spend time here. Just because we live together doesn’t mean anything has to change.”
Now that it was staring her in the face—or pouring over her like a bucket of ice water—Holly could only think of how boring and meaningless that sort of arrangement sounded. Her relationship with Jackson had been right at the time, and she was grateful to him for that. But she didn’t want a future with a man who wanted no part of what amounted to half her life, and who had no intention of sharing the whole of his life with her.
Thanks to him, she’d reached the fork in the road tonight. It was time to make a choice.
“But that’s just it, Jackson,” she said in a quiet voice. “Everything does have to change. And my answer to your offer is thank you, but no.”
Micah shook his head as Ryan offered to get him another beer. “I’ve got to get out of here, man. If I see that jerk again, I might have to drill him. And then I’d have to arrest myself.”
Micah shook hands with his buddy, quickly thanked Lily and Aiden, and then said good-bye to Morgan, who didn’t look surprised when he said he was leaving. “Holly and Jackson went into the house, right?” he asked her.
Morgan squeezed his arm. “Yes, but don’t worry, Micah. She can handle him.”
“Of course she can. I was just asking so I wouldn’t run into them as I leave. I’ll go around the side of the house.”
She winced. “Yuck, I hate this.”
“Tell Holly I’m sorry, okay?”
“I will, but you’ve got nothing to apologize for. You were the gentleman here, not Jackson Leigh.”
“Thanks, Morgan.” Micah hugged her and slipped through the crowd, making his way to the stone path that ran along the side of the house. It was pretty dark now, with only the glow of the porch lights at the front and rear to guide his way.
He had no intention of going home just yet, since he knew he’d just sit there feeling like crap and worrying about Holly. Instead, he’d probably make a few circuits of Island Road and some other streets, making sure all was well in Seashell Bay, and then drop in at the Pot. Sit at the bar and nurse a couple of beers. Maybe talk some to owner Laura Vickers or the bartender, Kellen Dooley, if they weren’t too busy serving customers.
As he neared the front of the house, he heard Holly’s voice drifting back. She and Leigh were talking on the porch, and she was telling her boyfriend that everything had to change. The words were clear as crystal, and they stopped Micah in his tracks.
“This is bullshit,” Leigh said, his voice rising. “If you’re not ready to move in with me, let’s just keep things the way they are. I’m fine with that.”
Would Holly really move in with that asshole? That would royally suck.
“But I’m not fine with it,” she said. “Not anymore. This isn’t what I want, and it sure isn’t what I need. I’ve been stewing about this for a while, Jackson, and I have to tell you that it’s just not working for me anymore. In fact, I don’t think it’s good for either of us.” Her voice dropped to a murmur, and Micah had to strain now to hear.
You shouldn’t be eavesdropping, dude. But he quickly told his conscience to shut the hell up. He’d feel bad about it later, but right now he wanted—needed—to know how Holly felt.
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” she said quietly. “Truly.”
“That’s bullshit, and please don’t tell me what I need,” the guy retorted. “You’re in some kind of goddamn emotional fog, and it’s because of this stupid island. You’ll snap out of it once you get away from here. Jesus, if I had my way, I’d load you in my helicopter right now. We could be in New York in a couple of hours, and it’s time you went back. Your aunt’s out of the hospital, and you need to be back in the city to meet with your partners. If you don’t wise up, you’re going to blow the hell out of some really good things. Your job. Me.”
“You really don’t get it, do you? You don’t get family, you don’t get obligation, and you sure as hell don’t get commitment.”
“Commitment?” Leigh said with a loud snort. “Hols, I thought that was the last thing you wanted.”
“I’m talking about commitment to family and friends. The only roots I have are in Seashell Bay, Jackson,” she patiently explained. “They’re very dear to me, and you obviously don’t get that.”
“I’d say your career is pretty damn dear to you. And I thought I was dear to you too. Obviously I was dead wrong.”
Holly’s exasperated sigh was clearly audible where Micah stood.
“Look, I truly am sorry,” she said, “but this isn’t getting us anywhere. I can take you back to the Merrifield Inn now, or I can ask Morgan to take you later if you want to stay at the party. But one way or the other, I’m going now.”
“Yeah, you are. You’re going with me. We’re going someplace where we can sit down and talk this out. Come on, let’s go.”
“Jackson, no. Talking will just make things worse. Please, I want you to leave.” Her voice rose. “And let go of my arm right now!”
Okay, enough was enough. Micah charged around the end of the porch and bounded up the steps. Her face red with anger, Holly was still trying to yank her arm from Leigh’s grasp.
“Let her go.” Micah growled. “Right now.”
“Fuck off, Mayberry,” Leigh snapped, not letting go. “This is none of your business.”
Holly glanced at Micah, her eyes blazing with anger. “I’ve got this, Micah. Don’t get in the middle.”
“He’s hurting you.” He took another step closer. If the asshole didn’t release Holly’s wrist in the next five seconds, he was going to spend the night behind bars. “What you’re doing to her is assault, Leigh, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to lock you up.”
“Jail me for arguing with my girlfriend?” Leigh said. “Oh, that’s hilarious.” But despite his brave words, he relaxed his grip, and Holly yanked her arm free.
Micah gently rested a hand on her shoulder as she came
to him. “Let me see your wrist.”
“I’m fine, Micah. I just want to leave.” From Micah’s side, she gave Leigh an ice-cold stare. “You can find your own way back to the B&B. Or better yet, call your pilot and get him to fly you back to New York tonight. I don’t ever want to see you in Seashell Bay again.”
Micah narrowed his gaze on the other man. “You heard the lady—it’s time to go. I’ll find someone to drive you back to the inn.”
“Like I said, fuck off. Nobody orders me around. I’ll leave when I’m damn well ready.” Leigh took a step forward, shot out a hand, and shoved Micah. Shoved him hard enough to knock him slightly off balance.
What an idiot.
Micah grabbed Leigh’s shoulder and spun him around, twisting his right arm behind his back and shoving him up against one of the porch columns. “Holly gets the last word on this, asshole.”
When he looked over, Holly’s mouth was gaping open. “Shall I arrest him for assaulting both you and a police officer?” he asked.
She shook herself, as if coming out of a daze. “No, let him go, Micah. He’s not worth your trouble.” Then she pointed a finger at Leigh. “But if you’re not off this island tomorrow morning, I will press charges.”
Micah reluctantly let him go.
“Screw you both,” Leigh growled as he turned to face them. “You blew a great thing, babe. And you’d better not think you can walk this back when you change your mind.”
Holly stared at him. “Well, I’ll try not to lose too much sleep over that.” She turned to Micah. “Micah, would you take me home? I’m too angry and upset to drive. I’d probably end up in a ditch.”
“You bet I will.”
In an instant, Micah’s entire world had just changed for the better.
Chapter 15
Like Caesar, Holly knew she’d just crossed the Rubicon—a critical line she couldn’t recross. Jackson Leigh was going to be just part of her history from now on, a history she’d mostly like to forget. “Micah, could we just drive around for a little while?” She stared off into the darkness of the forest that lined both sides of the road.
“Whatever you like,” he said. “I’m here for you.”
She managed a smile but didn’t look at him. “I really don’t want to have to explain to my aunts why I look like a strung-out crazy woman. Besides, I’m not up to explaining what happened at the party, at least not yet.”
Holly had promised her aunts she’d bring Jackson over in the morning to meet them. That, obviously, was no longer on.
They drove in silence for a few minutes until Micah turned onto a narrow wooded lane that curved away from the wash of his headlights. “I know you want to drive around more, but I thought we could stop here awhile and take a little walk. It’s still a beautiful night, despite that bullshit at the party.”
“Too beautiful to let Jackson completely ruin it,” she said. She peered ahead, finally recognizing where they were. “This is the old Carney place. That New York TV producer owns it now, right?”
“Yeah, Jerry Foreman. He tore down Carney’s old house and built a summer home. Well, I guess mansion would be a better description. It’s a shame that his family only uses it a few weeks a year.”
“I’ve seen it from the water a couple of times,” Holly said. “It’s gorgeous. And the view has always been spectacular from the point.”
The property was on a narrow peninsula at the south end of the island that offered stunning views to the south, east, and north. When she was a teenager, she’d been friends with Jocelyn Carney, as had Micah and nearly everyone else their age. The Carneys had moved away some years ago when Jocelyn’s father had been forced to look for work on the mainland.
“Jerry and I have become good friends,” Micah said, stopping the car in front of a massive garage.
“Really? You never mentioned that before.”
“He was grateful for a solid I did him last year. He started inviting me over to use his home gym after I mentioned once that I like to work out. Now we spend some time together whenever he’s on the island.” He got out and came around to help her out of the Tahoe.
“Cool. Maybe he’ll give you a bit part in one of his shows. You’d make a great TV cop because you look so…”
“Big?” he said drily.
“Intimidating,” she said. “But only to the people who don’t know you.”
“Yeah, just ask Daisy Whipple. She roasts my ass every time I see her.” He laughed. “As do half the people on this rock, especially the older ones.”
Holly smiled, loving that he didn’t mind the ribbing he took from some of the locals. Micah was secure enough in himself not to mind the teasing. He knew it came from affection.
He led her through a breezeway between the house and garage. It opened into a huge, sparsely treed rear yard that sloped gently down to a long dock. The vault of the sky arched overhead, thick with the stars of the Milky Way, and a half-moon softly lit their way down to the dock. The ocean shimmered in front of them, almost as still as a lake on a windless night.
“Well, Jackson doesn’t frighten easily, but I could tell he was afraid of you.”
“He had some reason to be,” Micah said. “Nobody’s going to grab you like that when I’m around—not even your boyfriend.”
Holly hated violence of any kind, even in contact sports. It was ironic that she’d married not just a soldier, but one trained for the most dangerous missions. She’d forced herself to suck it up because she simply couldn’t help falling in love with Drew. But she’d never dealt well with his deployments, terrified every time he went overseas. Her worst nightmare had come true when he died on a mission.
She sighed. “I never thought Jackson was the type of man who would rough me up, but the way he flipped out tonight, I really have to wonder.” She stopped and shook her head, mortified. “What was I doing with a guy like that? How could I not see it?”
Micah took her hand. “You were still grieving when you met him. I’m sure that explains a lot. Let’s just try to forget that guy for tonight. You’ve been through enough.”
Holly clung to his hand, loving the way it engulfed hers. Even more, loving his warmth and generosity. He was a friend she could rely on no matter what. “That sounds like an awesome plan.”
“Jerry rebuilt the Carneys’ old dock a couple of years ago,” Micah said as they stepped up onto it. “But it looks pretty much the same, doesn’t it?”
She nodded, peering ahead. The dock extended out into the Atlantic, with light fixtures on poles at both ends. As they walked side by side along the boards, Holly could hear the waves very gently sloshing against the pilings and smell the salty tang of the sea air. She loved that sound and scent, having always taken comfort in them. They whispered home.
“We did some crazy things here when we were kids,” Micah said, his grip firm on her hand. “Remember?”
“Micah, I’d hardly call jumping off a dock crazy,” Holly said, though she knew what he was getting at.
“We sure had some fun when Mr. and Mrs. Carney went on trips.”
Jocelyn Carney had liked to party. When her parents went off to visit family on the mainland—as they regularly did in the summer—Jocelyn had no hesitation in turning her home into party central. Diving off the dock had been one form of entertainment—underage drinking and pot smoking had been others. Even Micah, the straightest arrow in the quiver, had indulged, though not as much as most guys.
Skinny-dipping in the ocean was a favorite of the more adventurous kids but certainly not Holly. Her eternally straitlaced aunts would have grounded her until doomsday, had even a whisper of something so outrageous gotten out.
“It made me pretty nervous sometimes, because some of the guys would get so drunk or stoned that it made me afraid they’d hit their head on the dock and drown.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “I was such a wuss.”
Micah laughed. “I would have pulled them out.”
Holly knew he would have. Micah always
looked out for everyone, even way back then.
He let go of her hand and wrapped a muscled arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She snuggled in, telling herself she was simply keeping warm.
“We had some good times though, Holly,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “We were young, and everything was still ahead of us.”
Her throat went tight. She remembered moments of happiness in her late teens, and many of them were spent with friends here at the Carneys’ place and other island hangouts. But the shroud of her parents’ deaths had never slipped off her shoulders for very long. And back then she remembered thinking a lot more about the past than she did about the future. The world outside the cocoon of Seashell Bay had seemed like a very scary place. It was a view that didn’t really change until she went away to college in Boston.
Micah let out a quiet sigh, obviously reading her. “I’m sorry, Holly. Sometimes I forget how hard it was for you back then. I shouldn’t be trying to walk you down memory lane.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” She slid her arm around his waist and leaned into his shoulder. “You always seem to know what I’m thinking, don’t you? I might put that down to cop instinct if I didn’t know you’d always been that way.”
“I guess I was born to be a cop.”
“Maybe, but you were always different, Micah. Most guys were so focused on the girls’ boobs that they didn’t have a clue what we were thinking or feeling. You were way more tuned in. Lily and Morgan and I always noticed that. We’ve talked about it before.”
“Now I know why my ears get hot whenever you’re back on the island,” he joked.
Hot was a very good way to describe him, and not just his ears.
She slipped out of his grasp and pulled him down to the end of the dock. She leaned out over the railing, staring down at the calm waters below. It was deep here at high tide—deep enough to make diving safe and fun. Under the soft glow of the light fixture over her head, she could see that the water level was almost up to the high tidemark on the pilings.
“Hmm, I wonder what the water temperature is tonight?” she said.