Fully Involved (Island Fire Book 3)

by Amy Knupp

  What she was more worried about was the man standing inches behind her, looking over her shoulder. His scent, a mix of subtle spice and male, made her step away. Unfortunately, there wasn’t far to step. “How much per week?” she asked, her jaw stiff.

  “Despite what Macey said, I had put some thought into renting this out — except I was going to lease by the month. A thousand.”

  “I can’t pay that much,” she said, banking on the suspicion that he was at least a little desperate for money if he planned to rent.

  He studied her too closely, unblinking, making her squirm. Finally he nodded. “That discount you mentioned … for you, I’ll go down to eight hundred.”

  Andie crossed her arms and inched forward. Eight hundred would be as far as she could stretch. “I have to pay by the week but I’ll be here for four.”

  He stared down at her with those disarming eyes but she held her ground. “Two hundred a week. And one other thing … unload the gun.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want a loaded firearm in my house.”

  “Your house is upstairs.”

  “I won’t bend on it.”

  She sized him up. She could take the ammo out while he watched if that would make him happy. And then she could put it right back in once he left. What was he going to do — a nightly inspection?

  Bad choice of words, she thought, as she pictured him in her bedroom at lights-out.

  She closed her eyes briefly. Ultimately she wouldn’t bend either, but she could fake it. She doubted she could find another rental this size, this close to work, for as low a price. She didn’t have wheels to get around to look at a bunch of places anyway.

  Andie was about to offer her hand to seal the deal when the door in the other room squeaked open slowly. She figured the wind had caught it — until she heard the small, unsure voice.

  “Daddy?”

  Chapter Two

  Andie was about to suggest that the girl was lost when Clay cleared his throat.

  “Payton, honey, I’m in here.”

  He left the bedroom and Andie tried to process this new information.

  Daddy?

  Clay was a father?

  How had she not known? When she’d lived here last year, he’d spent plenty of late nights at the bar with Evan and Derek. As far as she knew, he hadn’t been married then either. She really hoped that wasn’t his idea of being a good dad — not that she knew from experience what one was.

  “Who’s here?” the little girl said, drawing Andie out of the bedroom.

  “This is Miss Andie,” Clay told her. “She’s going to be our neighbor for a few weeks. This is my daughter, Payton.”

  A tiny girl hugged Clay’s leg, hiding halfway behind him. Brown wavy hair hung past her shoulders and framed her angelic face. Andie could see immediately that Payton had inherited her father’s beautiful eyes. She was dressed in a plain cotton-candy-pink leotard, saggy tights, and dark pink Crocs.

  “Hi, Payton,” Andie said, walking closer. “You remind me of a little girl I know in Illinois. I bet you’re about the same age.”

  Payton leaned out a few inches farther. “I’m three.” She had the same trouble pronouncing the letter r that Andie’s cousin’s daughter did.

  “Three? That makes you a big girl then,” Andie said.

  Shyly, the child came out of hiding. “I go to San Amaro Dance School.”

  “That sounds pretty awesome.”

  “My birthday’s coming soon.”

  “And then you’ll be four? That’s exciting, Payton.”

  Clay crossed his arms and took a step back, looking from his daughter to Andie.

  “You have pretty hair,” Payton said to Andie.

  “Thank you. You do too.”

  “My daddy doesn’t know how to put my hair like a ballerina’s.”

  Andie glanced over at Clay and she couldn’t help cracking a grin. “There are certain things that boys just don’t get.”

  “Can you make a ballerina hairdo?” Payton asked.

  Girl or not, Andie wasn’t even sure what a ballerina hairdo was. “Do you have a picture of one?”

  Payton nodded emphatically. “In my ballerina book.”

  “Maybe if you show your dad, he’ll be able to figure it out.”

  She seemed doubtful. “I showed him already.”

  A young woman, in her early twenties at the most, poked her head in the door then. “There you are! You scared me to death.”

  Andie wondered if this was Payton’s mother. If so, Clay was a cradle robber. The girl was attractive, with thick brown hair that hung down her back and big brown eyes. She was small. Much smaller than Clay.

  The child threw her arms around the brunette’s legs, giggling.

  “You can’t run off like that, girly. When Bridget’s in charge, you have to stay with her so she doesn’t think you’re lost.” Clay’s voice was soothing and gentle.

  Payton craned her head up to meet Bridget’s gaze. “Sorry.”

  Bridget picked her up, kissed her forehead loudly, and supported her on her hip. “We’ll leave you alone,” she said to Clay.

  “Miss Andie’s going to live here,” Payton said.

  “We’re just finishing up.” Clay opened the door for them.

  “No problemo. We’ll let you get back to business. We’re going to have a snack, right, Pay?”

  The girl nodded reluctantly and stared at Clay. She wound her hair around her finger and her lower lip trembled.

  “I’ll be home in a few minutes.” Clay kissed his daughter’s forehead. He held out his hand and waited for her to give him five. She did, finally, with the hand that wasn’t tangled in her hair. “How ’bout the other side, too?”

  She hesitated but finally unwound her finger and touched that hand to Clay’s. He grasped it and nibbled her fingers, eliciting a giggle from her.

  “Don’t take too long,” Bridget said to Clay as she carried Payton out.

  Andie watched the two leave, digesting the whole scene.

  “No tears,” Clay mumbled. “Progress.”

  “Was that Payton’s mom?” she asked.

  “What? No, Bridget’s my baby sister. She watches Payton for me.”

  “Nice of her to help you out.” She guessed that was what typical families did. Help each other. Andie didn’t have a sister and she didn’t have a functional family, so this was about as close as she’d ever get to one.

  “I just got temporary custody of Payton,” Clay explained as he pulled a copy of an apartment lease out of a kitchen drawer. Clearly he was much more prepared to be a landlord than Macey thought. “My ex isn’t a shining example of parenthood. She’s in rehab.”

  She struggled not to show her surprise that Mr. Got-It-Together would’ve been involved with someone less than perfect. “How long will you have her?”

  “Forever, I hope. Just need to get a judge to see things my way. It’s an uphill battle for a single father. Her mother has a vicious lawyer and they’ll use anything against me, but I’m doing whatever I can to argue my case.”

  “What could they possibly use against you?” Andie asked. Even compared to his friends, he seemed more stable, organized … serious.

  “Let’s see, my past, my career, even the apartment I shared with Evan. That’s one of the reasons I bought this place. That and Evan felt the need to get married.”

  “Wow. I see your point about the lawyer being vicious.” Andie leaned her shoulder against the wall, hands in her back pockets, while Clay filled in the document. “You’re good with her.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “It’s like I’m holding on to the edge of a cliff by my fingernails. She’s having a tough time with all the changes.”

  “She seemed well-adjusted. Comfortable with you.”

  “I tried to spend as much time with her over the years as I could.” His face tightened and Andie could see how much being separated from his daughter upset him. “The bigger challenge we’re fac
ing right now is when I leave her, no matter how briefly. Transitions are hard. I think she’s afraid she’ll get taken to yet another home.”

  “Understandable,” Andie said. “That didn’t seem so bad just now.”

  “No, she was much better. Didn’t cry. Maybe you put her at ease. She seemed to like you.”

  “I’m flattered,” Andie said. “I like kids.”

  His eyebrows shot up as he pushed the lease in front of her. “You? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “Kids are cool. What you see is what you get. You know where you stand with them.”

  “Pretty hair’s big in Payton’s book.” Clay went over the lease terms quickly and pointed out the lines for her to initial and sign.

  “Maybe I’ll try to do her hair sometime … although I’m not sure I’ll measure up,” Andie said, scribbling her name. “I haven’t had little girls to practice on.”

  “I’ve been surrounded by girls my whole life and I still fail miserably, as you heard. I have four sisters.”

  “A big, happy family.”

  “Some days.” A frown crossed his face for a split second. “We have our problems. Same as any other family.”

  “So … when can I move in?”

  “When do you want to?”

  “That depends on whether I have to walk back to the bar to get my stuff. Assuming this place is ready now.”

  “It’s ready,” Clay said. He took the lease. With the gentlest shudder-inducing touch on her cheek, he brushed Andie’s hair back. “I suppose in addition to paying for repairs and giving you a discount on rent, you want me to give you a ride to the Shack.”

  “You’re perceptive.” She did her best to ignore his effect on her, but heat climbed up her neck. “Think of it as penance.”

  “You’re not going to let me live this down anytime soon, are you, biker girl?”

  “Not a chance.”

  oOo

  Andie was officially moved in by 6:39 p.m. She’d insisted on Clay dropping her off at the Shell Shack and stayed for a couple of hours helping out in the kitchen. When Macey finished her shift, Andie caught a ride with her to Clay’s. They carried her belongings upstairs in one trip.

  “You sure you won’t come back with me for dinner?” Macey asked after they’d tossed the three bags on the bed. “We’re cooking Thai chicken.”

  “Thanks but no. You and Derek might kill me with all your domestic bliss.” She set the biggest bag, still fully packed, on the floor of the closet, preferring to dig things out as she needed them.

  Macey laughed. “I’d apologize, but…”

  “I’m happy for you guys. I just don’t do third-wheel-ness very well.”

  “Someday you’ll find the man who will make you itch to be domestic.”

  Andie put the second bag, which held all her bathroom stuff and her gun, around the corner in the bathroom. “You know me better than that.”

  Still smiling, Macey continued her crazy talk. “Settling down isn’t as bad as you think.”

  “Maybe not for normal people, but I’ve never pretended to be normal.”

  “No, I wouldn’t call you normal.”

  “I’d miss traveling. Riding. Doing whatever the hell I want to when I want to.” Which was true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

  “Well, if you decide you want to eat with us, come on over,” Macey said. “Dinner will be ready in less than an hour.”

  “Thanks for the offer and for helping me lug my stuff up.”

  “Everyone should be as easy to help move as you are. See you at work tomorrow.”

  Andie went to the door with Macey and saw her out. “Night. Enjoy your bliss.”

  She shut the door and registered the silence. Living on the road, sleeping in campgrounds, crappy motels, hostels, what-have-yous, she was used to not having a lot of personal space, used to having plenty of surrounding noise. She’d become accustomed to being alone in the middle of a crowd, frankly, and now, without the crowd, her ears rang. She paced.

  She went back into the bedroom and put away the contents of the third bag — paperbacks, a crossword puzzle book, a reading light, her tie-dyed teddy bear, Lyle, that went everywhere with her. In the bathroom, she unpacked the toiletries she used daily and took the gun to the bedroom. She set it under the pillow, still loaded.

  Andie went to the kitchen and considered the empty cabinets. By her standards, there was tons of space. What did people do with all this room? Buy groceries, she figured. Stock up. Feed a family.

  Not since Trevor had she gone to the trouble of grocery shopping for more than one meal at a time. When you didn’t have a fridge, there was no point in stocking up. Even back when she’d still lived with her dad, it’d been a fend-for-yourself situation for as long as she could remember. Her dad had excelled at filling the liquor cabinet and the beer fridge, but not so much the kitchen.

  She wandered aimlessly into the living room. It was early, and usually she’d get on her bike and ride when she was bored or unsettled. Her second choice was to lose herself in a book, but she was too restless to sit still and wasn’t in the mood for the book she’d been reading. She needed to find a way to get to the library on the mainland. She’d used it a lot last summer, but then the library had been right between her campground and work.

  As she stared at the off-white walls, the sound of her cell phone — her one regular monthly expense — reached her from the bedroom. Puzzled, she followed the sound. She rarely received incoming calls. She kept the phone for emergencies.

  Caller ID showed her a number she knew well, even though she rarely used it.

  “Hey, Jonas. What’s up?” she asked her cousin.

  “Where the hell have you been, woman? I’ve been trying to call you all day.”

  Andie chuckled. “Riding. Moving in. I didn’t think to check my messages.” She didn’t often have messages.

  “Andie, you need to check them.”

  Something in his tone wiped the smile off her face. “What’s going on?”

  “Just got news today. Trevor’s out on parole.”

  The bottom dropped out of Andie’s gut and she sank heavily to the bed. “Already?”

  “Apparently he’s been a good boy. Found religion. Blah blah blah.”

  Just like that, Andie fell back through memory to the horrific time three years ago when Trevor had used her as a punching bag. She broke out into a cold sweat and felt like she could puke.

  “What do I do, Jonas?”

  “Andie, honey, you’re panicking. You don’t need to panic. You’re not the same girl. And you’re hundreds of miles away.”

  She sucked in air and nodded, repeating Jonas’s words to herself silently. “Right. You’re right. God, I hate feeling like that.”

  She wasn’t the same person. She’d made absolute certain of that. By learning to defend herself, for starters. By becoming completely independent. Accountable to no one. But the news that her ex was free brought back the fear and doubt, the hopelessness that had once been as much a part of her as her straight, stringy hair.

  “Calm down. He’s not going to find you anytime soon. We don’t have any proof that he’ll try to track you down.”

  “Maybe he won’t,” Andie said, sitting up. “Right?”

  “It’s been a long time. You’ve moved on. Hopefully he has too. Just relax.”

  Relax. Yeah. “Thanks, Jonas. Keep me posted.”

  “Check your damn messages.”

  They disconnected and Andie curled into a ball on her side.

  God, she hoped Trevor had better things to do than dig up the past.

  But she remembered all too well his promise to her the last time they’d seen each other, in court. He’d sworn he would love her forever. That they’d be together again someday. Trevor would do everything in his power to make that come true.

  Chapter Three

  It was a lame excuse, Clay fully acknowledged.

  But Andie needed a copy of her lease eventually. Why n
ot tonight? She was alone one floor below — he’d seen her arrive with Macey out his bedroom window. Not too long after, Macey had left. He wanted to see Andie again.

  Payton was in bed now, and his sister Bridget and her boyfriend, Reid, had come over to swim. When they came upstairs afterward, Clay asked them to stay for a few extra minutes and then went down.

  After three knocks on Andie’s door, there was still no response. “Andie, it’s Clay.”

  An eternity later, the door opened a crack, still chained. Was she afraid of something? Someone? Surely not him.

  “I brought your copy of the lease,” he said, holding up the papers.

  After hesitating, Andie closed the door, undid the chain, and opened it wide enough for him to come in the entrance. However, she still barricaded him from getting any farther with her body.

  “Did I wake you up?” he asked, though he didn’t think that was the case. Her hair had been brushed and fell to her shoulders like a silk curtain. It didn’t look as if she’d been tossing around on a pillow.

  Andie shook her head. It seemed as if she were two hundred miles away, distracted and … disturbed. Her eyes were glassy.

  “Are you all right?” He touched her upper arm.

  She swallowed and looked up at him. He could see when she came to and realized she was revealing too much.

  “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “That didn’t look like tired.”

  “What did it look like?” She backed away with an insincere smile.

  “Fear.”

  Her smile vanished and she met his eyes. “I’m okay, really.”

  “You don’t like having anyone concerned about you, do you?”

  She tilted her head a degree. “I do fine on my own.”

  “Coming from you, that sounds almost like a challenge.” He took another step toward her, and she didn’t retreat. He brushed her hair off her cheek. “I like a challenge.”

  “Yeah? Is that why you’re here?”

  Clay’s mind went blank, sidetracked by her mouth, so close, and he couldn’t remember why he was here. Ah, the lease in his left hand. He held it up. “I’m here to deliver your copy.”