Love on Lavender Island (A Lavender Island Novel Book 2)

by Lauren Christopher

  As Paige ran back and forth every day among the workers, the wedding coordinators, the film crews, her mother, and various Dorothy Silver entourage members, she’d glanced around for Adam, but he’d vanished. He’d seemed to be avoiding her. She knew he was busy, too: various town members were coming up to visit him and help him fix the back end of his property where it led to the rocky cliff toward the seaplane ramp—a lot of tree trimming and brush clearing needed to get done for him to get it on the market. If he could clear it enough to show where a road might go, he would get top dollar. He’d seemed surprised that so many Carmelita residents would drive up to help, but they were all relieved he hadn’t sold to MacGregor. They knew he’d keep the Mason property—and the orchard and the bison ranch and the airstrip—just as it should be. They even set up a fund for him to try to pay off George’s debts themselves so he could keep the seaplane property, too, and maybe make it into a museum. He’d seemed humbled and shocked by their generosity.

  But that was the last day Paige had seen him. Otherwise, he’d been like a ghost.

  At first she thought it was a matter of circumstances, but then she started to wonder if he was avoiding her on purpose. Maybe he was done with FRED. Maybe he was done with her. She tried not to be hurt by that, because that would make her mother right. And she tried to remember that she’d always known this was short-term, and that she’d had fun with him while it lasted, and she was the one leaving—she’d laid out the rules. He hadn’t broken any promises or any trust, and she needed to accept that and move on.

  At least that’s what she told herself.

  Her heart, however, was apparently not listening. Late one afternoon, while tying her three-hundredth bow around a tiny pot of wedding almonds—a 1950s Dorothy-Richard first-wedding throwback, to be sure—four huge teardrops escaped her eyes and wet the wooden dining table. What the heck?

  Paige swiped at her cheeks with her fingertips and quickly moved the rest of the almonds aside so she didn’t have a pastel-candy mess on her hands in a moment. Dang. She didn’t want to be this way. She didn’t want to feel hurt. She wanted to be in control of her emotions. She wasn’t supposed to let her heart get in the way.

  And yet the tears kept coming.

  She wiped at her cheeks a few more times just as she heard the back door open.

  “Yoo-hoo,” her mother said.

  Paige snagged an empty netting circle and patted her eyes. “Hey, Mom.”

  The netting was completely ineffective. Paige went for her sleeve instead.

  Her mom circled her for a moment, then set the bags she’d brought on the kitchen counter next to Paige’s VHS copy of Last Road to Nowhere.

  “What’s this?” Ginger asked.

  “Oh, I ordered that for Amanda. She wanted to see it.”

  Ginger nodded and glanced back at Paige. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I . . .” Paige didn’t know how to finish the sentence. She dabbed one more time at her cheeks with her sleeve and turned away. She didn’t want to get into this with her mom.

  “Where’s your knight in shining armor?” Ginger asked from the kitchen. She started unloading wedding-morning marmalades, made fresh on Lavender Island, lining them across the counter.

  “What?”

  “Adam. You haven’t been around him much lately.”

  Paige stood and began a trajectory toward the coffeemaker. “I think our summer fling is over.”

  Ginger watched Paige fumble with the old machine, then fluttered her away. “I’ll do it.”

  Paige returned to the dining table and plopped down.

  “So is this one of those moments where you want my opinion or don’t want it?” Ginger carefully measured the coffee and arranged two cups.

  “I guess I want your opinion if it’s positive.”

  Ginger laughed. “That sounds about right. Well, if you want mine on this, I think you might be letting a good thing slip away.”

  Paige was sick at the flurry of emotions skittering through her—chief among them were sadness, doubt, and fear. And now, after her mother’s admission, shock. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “I can admit when I’m wrong.”

  “Since when?”

  Ginger smiled and waited for the coffee.

  Paige stared at the blue delft vase and sighed. “I don’t know, Mom. There are a lot of things I still need to tell him.”

  “He came to talk to me.”

  “What?”

  Ginger poked at the coffeemaker as if to make it work faster, or maybe to avoid Paige’s eyes. “Yes, he came to apologize. He introduced me to Amanda.”

  Paige’s jaw felt as though it had dropped to the table. “What? When? Tell me what happened.”

  Ginger made her wait through a little more fussing with the appliance, which Paige recognized as one of her mother’s delay tactics. Finally, Ginger turned and leaned against the counter.

  “Yesterday. He came to apologize to me—for blaming me all those years about his severed relationship with his father when it wasn’t me.”

  Paige held her breath. “Did he know it was me?” she whispered.

  “No. He said it was him. He said he and his father both had trouble expressing their feelings and their trust in people, and that if either of them had been able to bridge that gap back then, things might have been different.”

  Paige let out another breath. That sounded like her and Adam, too. Apparently, they were both having trouble trusting and, therefore, expressing their feelings. But she didn’t want things to be too late for them, too.

  “What else did he say?”

  “He introduced me to Amanda and said what a wonderful girl she was and that he wanted me to meet her. She is a cute girl. And he said he knew he’d made some bad impressions on me back then but wanted me to know he’d changed and wasn’t the clueless boy he’d been. He wanted me to know what a fabulous job you did here and how hard you worked, and he hoped I’d give you all the credit. Paige, I admit I was wrong about him. He looks just like his father and has all the charm and appeal, but he’s a different kind of man. He really does care about you, honey. And if you care about him as much as I think you always have, I think you should tell him so. You made a good choice in him, even when you were thirteen years old.”

  “You knew I had a crush on him then?”

  “Everyone did, dear.” She turned to pour the coffee for both of them.

  Paige laughed. “Adam didn’t.”

  “Well, boys can be dense. But he’s grown-up now. And he can see exactly what’s in front of him. You are a wonderful find.”

  Paige fiddled with the napkins. “Maybe I’m not.”

  Her mother brought the coffees to the table. “What are you talking about, dear? You’re lovely. You are one of a kind, and any man would be lucky to have you.”

  Paige smiled. “I appreciate your blind faith in me, Mom, but I haven’t been all that with Adam. I haven’t even been completely honest. I never told him I was the one to tell on him to you and George.”

  Her mother quietly sipped her coffee at that, then stared into her mug and let out a lengthy sigh. “I’m sorry for all those years I made you distrust men, Paige. It was wrong of me to impose my own opinions and experiences on you. I was just choosing the wrong ones. But dishonesty begets dishonesty. The more you distrust men, the more you’ll withhold. And then you’ll completely withhold your honest self. Pretty soon you’re holding everyone at such an arm’s length, and being so quiet about who you truly are, or what you want, that you’ll never let anyone get close to you.”

  “I didn’t want to tell him because I didn’t want him to hate me.”

  “You didn’t want him to see the real you.”

  Paige stared at her untouched coffee and realized that was the truth.

  “I’d say trust him,” her mom said.

  Paige lifted an eyebrow. “All these years you’ve been telling me not to trust men, and now this is your advice? A com
plete one-eighty?”

  “A woman has the right to change her mind.” Her mom took a sip of coffee. “But, yes. That’s my advice. Trust him to make the right decision about a relationship with you, but you have to give him the true you first.”

  Paige nodded again. Her mom was right—she had to give Adam the true her. She needed to tell him that she’d been the one to tell George and Ginger. He might hate her, and might never forgive her, but she had to give him that option. If he chose to forgive her, they could perhaps move on and have something truly meaningful between them. But if she never told him, they absolutely never could. She’d always distrusted others in relationships, but now she realized it was a two-way street. Be completely honest to expect complete honesty in return.

  She also wasn’t Katharine Hepburn or Lauren Bacall or any of the other sophisticated femme fatales she was trying to put on for him—she was just goofy, sometimes silly, find-an-adventure Paige Grant. And that would have to do. If he couldn’t love that about her, she’d simply have to accept that fact. But she couldn’t get him to fall in love with someone she was not. It was time to take her armor off. It was time to be her real self. It was time to be proud of who she was.

  Paige scooted her chair back and grabbed the VHS tape off the counter. “I’ll have my coffee later, Mom. I have to go find someone.”

  Paige ran across the meadow, the grasses no longer whipping at her ankles but now becoming dried and matted.

  When she got to Adam’s back porch, she pushed the hair out of her eyes and stared at his back door for a long moment before taking a deep breath and knocking.

  “Hey.” He opened the door in his bare feet and low-hanging blue jeans. Paige swallowed a sigh. But he had the look of a stranger now. He didn’t reach for her, didn’t grab her around the waist for another hot kiss, didn’t even smile at her in his naughty, intimate way. He just opened the door wider and ushered her in.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Paige.”

  His words were uttered with politeness. Seeing his downcast eyes as she walked into the house like some distant visitor brought another threat of tears. How had she let them get to this place? Had her fear of opening up brought them to this awkward, terrible end?

  Her heart thrummed at all she had to say, and what it would take to say it, and she took another deep breath. “Adam, I need to talk to you.”

  Adam welcomed Paige into the kitchen, as he’d done so many times, but now his heart was encased. He wasn’t going to lay it raw anymore. He loved Paige. He knew that. But he would never hold her back. Paige was young and vibrant and free, and she needed to follow her dream, which started by taking this role in Hollywood. He tried to be happy for her. He’d been convincing himself all week.

  “So did you call my guy to ferry you out right after the wedding?” he asked, heading into the kitchen to get her a drink. Adam had offered to fly her, but she’d admitted she was afraid to fly.

  “Yes, everything’s set. Thank you so much.”

  Maybe he could get her to visit. Maybe she’d come after she got the part, or after she played it. They were only twenty-six miles across the sea, after all. And she had her sisters here. She’d be back sometime.

  “I’ve missed you,” she repeated, stepping toward him.

  He nodded. Amanda was in the next room, watching From Here to Eternity, but he wanted to wrap his arms around Paige right now and take her to his bedroom. Or the hangar. Or the hayloft. Or maybe to the pond or the woods or her bed or the gazebo. He wanted to say good-bye properly and leave things on the warm, comfortable note they’d hit earlier in the summer. But he also needed to keep his heart hard. This was difficult enough as it was. It would be easier for everyone if they kept things simple from here.

  “I ordered this from the Hollywood Film Library,” she said, thrusting a tape of Last Road to Nowhere at him. “I made sure to get it on a ‘vintage’ VHS for Amanda’s amusement.”

  Adam smiled. “She’ll love it. We’ll watch it together.”

  His heart felt as if it were sinking like a rock. Seeing her again—her beautiful smile, her doe eyes, her soft hair that fell around her face—and knowing he might never see her again was crushing him. He tried to get up the courage to say some of the things he needed to say, but he didn’t want to come off like a needy, pathetic jerk. Instead, he hardened his heart further and turned away.

  “You might need to go now, right?” he asked.

  Ass.

  Paige looked up at him with those eyes that killed him. “Do you have a minute to talk? It might be our last night of peace and quiet before the wedding workers start descending tomorrow.”

  “I thought you might have things you needed to do for the wedding.”

  “I do, but I . . . I have some things I want to say.”

  Unless she was saying she wanted to stay, he didn’t know if he wanted to hear it. A few weeks ago, he would have wanted to hear anything—how much fun she’d had, how much she enjoyed the great sex. He’d have eagerly listened to how much she’d loved the laughs, his salsa, their horseback rides, the ranch. But now he didn’t want to hear that. Because now it would only drive home the point that, while he wanted so much more of her, she’d had enough of him.

  “Adam, I—”

  He held up his hand. “I don’t know if we need to do this. Do we?”

  She looked up at him as if he’d just slapped her. Her eyes teared. She took a step back. Bit her lip.

  His chest crushed again. He was such an ass. He couldn’t do this to her. As much as he wanted to harden his heart so it wouldn’t hurt so much, he couldn’t. He’d have to let her say whatever she wanted to say. If it drove a knife through him, so be it.

  “Can we go for a walk?” she asked quietly.

  That would just drag this out. But he would do it, for her. “Sure.”

  She nodded and headed back out the door.

  He set Last Road to Nowhere down on the table and followed behind her.

  Time to fall on the sword.

  Paige bit her lip as they wandered across the yard, and she tried to figure out how to start. Dusk was starting to fall, changing the sky to a deep purple over the dried grass. The evening was mild, but she wrapped her arms around her torso as they kept up a brisk pace.

  Unable to formulate anything that might cushion the blow, she simply blurted it out. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

  Adam slowed and turned slightly toward her. His eyebrows formed a deep frown as he stared down at her; then he looked back at the horizon they were marching toward. “Go on.”

  “When we were kids—that summer of the fires—my mom wasn’t the one who told George on you and had you sent away.” The words were coming in a rush now.

  His scowl grew deeper. “She wasn’t?”

  “I was,” Paige said. “I told on you. I went to your kitchen, and she came with me, to tell George. It wasn’t Ginger. It was me.”

  Adam stopped and turned toward her completely. He stared at her for a long time, his face alternating between fury and disbelief. “You thought I started the fires, and yet you’ve been sleeping with me?” he asked.

  “No! I never thought you started them. I never said that to George. I just told him about you and Samantha—that you were there, too. I didn’t think it was you. My point was that it could have been anyone. I didn’t think he’d have you thrown in jail, Adam. But, I must admit, I did want them to break up you and Samantha.” Tears sprang to her eyes. What she had done, and saying it out loud, hit her full force in the chest. She wanted to reach up toward him—touch him, stroke his face, hug him—but his expression looked murderous. She didn’t dare. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered into the space between them.

  He glanced between her and the road. “Paige . . .” He couldn’t seem to even find the words. His face was a mask of incredulousness and anger.

  His phone rang in his pocket, but he ignored it and turned to face th
e sunset. “That drove a wedge between me and my dad that lasted forever.”

  “I know,” she whispered. Tears flowed down her face now. She couldn’t help it any longer—she needed to touch him, just a gentle touch, to let him know how sorry she was—and she reached up for his shirt, but he stepped away.

  “And Samantha . . . ,” he said. “When her parents took her off the island, she left without looking back. I don’t think she ever believed me. Those years I lost with Amanda . . . that was why.”

  “I know,” Paige said, choking on a sob. “I’m so very, very sorry, Adam. If I could do it all over, I would.”

  His phone rang again, but he simply turned away. The anger on his face was morphing into pain, and Paige didn’t know which was worse.

  “And you let me hate Ginger all these years, even though it wasn’t her,” he said.

  Paige nodded weakly as his phone rang again. She glanced at it, a minor panic starting in her chest. Multiple phone calls were never good. “Are you going to get that?” she asked.

  He yanked his phone out and glanced at the screen. “It’s Bob.”

  “Go ahead. It sounds urgent.”

  “What do you need?” he barked into the phone.

  Adam didn’t take his eyes off her. He looked as if he was looking at her for the first time—and not liking what he saw. Something Bob said made his brows furrow even deeper. “Calm down. What are you talking about?”

  He listened for a second, then shook his head. “I’m on my way toward the Top of the World, I—”

  Suddenly he looked behind him. And a slew of whispered curses followed.

  Paige followed his gaze and saw a huge plume of smoke lifting out from behind the trees.

  The meadow was on fire.

  CHAPTER 26

  Paige ran behind Adam into the front yard, where they both stopped short when they saw the blaze roaring across the dry grass toward the gazebo.

  Amanda raced out of the house right then, looking toward the meadow herself, her mouth dropping open at the sight of the violent flames.