by Jen Gilroy
Her phone shrilled and shattered the silence of the night. “Max.” That world crashed into her.
“Charlotte.” Her editor’s clipped British voice echoed across the thousands of miles that separated them. “I have a story for you when you’re back.”
“Great.” She tried to inject enthusiasm into her voice. “Where are you?”
“Indonesia.” A tapping noise meant he was typing as he talked. “I want you to cover a women’s cooperative in Ladakh. Ease you back in. Hello?”
“I’m still here.” She drew a map in the sand and marked Firefly Lake with a white pebble.
“Thought I’d lost you.” More tapping. “Sorry. Ladakh. You hear me?”
“Yes, Northern India.” Charlie sketched Asia.
“From there you can go on to China.” She’d met Max in China ten years earlier, the veteran reporter who’d shown her the ropes. “I want a human rights piece, the impact of media censorship.”
“Okay.” She clutched her phone in one hand and with the other held her stomach. Cell phone coverage could be spotty here, but Max’s voice was as clear as if he were at Mario’s.
“You get people to trust you and they talk. I want your grassroots angle, raw, hard-hitting journalism but with empathy. You know what I mean?”
Yeah, she knew what he meant. Except maybe she wasn’t that person anymore, but she couldn’t tell Max that, couldn’t disappoint her mentor and friend. “I’ll get onto some background.”
“I knew I could count on you. I miss you.” His gravelly voice softened. “It’s not the same without you.”
“I miss you too.” In a lot of ways, Max was the dad she’d never had. He had a heart of gold beneath his crusty exterior, and was a man she admired and respected. “I have to go.”
Sean stood five feet away, a navy hoodie tied around his shoulders, and the wind off the lake ruffled his thick hair. He was as ruggedly handsome as the Vermont landscape he was so much a part of. Charlie’s breathing sped up and desire coursed through her.
“Are you keeping busy over there in the wilderness?” Max teased. “Any power-hungry deer?”
“You wish. Bye, Max.” Charlie made herself laugh before disconnecting. Max’s banter was as much a part of him as his iron-gray hair, the phone wedged to his ear, the mug of black coffee cooling on his desk, his well-worn sweaters, and the fierce intellect she’d first feared and then learned from.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Before she could scramble to her feet, Sean dropped to the sand beside her.
“I was done.” She gestured to her phone. “That was my editor, Max. He’s in Indonesia.”
“Archipelago, colonized by the Dutch.” Sean’s lips twitched.
“How…?”
“Come winter, Friday’s quiz night at the Moose and Squirrel.” His smile broadened. “You think because I play pool in a bar I don’t know anything about the world?”
“Of course not.” Charlie scratched at her sand map and blotted out India, China, and Indonesia.
“I wouldn’t want to think you’d gotten all stuck up.” He waited for a beat. “What did my mom say to you?”
“Nothing much.” Charlie managed a no-big-deal kind of shrug. “She talked about when I was a kid and my job mostly.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Low and rough, Sean’s voice sent tingles along her nerve ends. “By the time I spotted her with you, Trevor had the customer on the phone.”
“Your mom’s looking out for her family.”
“Interfering with her family’s more like it.” Sean’s expression was pained. “What did she say?”
“You should talk to her.” Charlie shivered.
“I will.” Sean shrugged out of his hoodie and handed it to her, his mouth tight. “I’d like to hear your version first.”
“She’s worried about Ty and Naomi.” Charlie pulled Sean’s jacket over her arms, and the lingering warmth of his body heated her skin.
“After what happened tonight, I’m worried about them too. What are they thinking of, sneaking around?”
“We snuck around when we were their age.” Charlie hugged herself.
“That’s why I don’t want them doing it, but if any of us try to stop them seeing each other, they’ll only be more set on it.” He exhaled and looked at the night sky.
“Mia’s scared.” Charlie hesitated, torn between her loyalty to her sister and her need to make him understand. “Naomi’s only fifteen, a young fifteen. Mia doesn’t want her dating until she’s at least sixteen. I respect that.”
“I know. I already talked to Naomi. She’s invited Ty back to the cottage to play Monopoly.” He chuckled, deep, warm, and inviting. “The junior version so Emma can play.”
“How clever of Naomi.” She grinned. “Mia thinks it was her idea, doesn’t she?”
“You bet. You always knew my secrets, Gibbs.” He stopped, the playfulness gone as if it had been snuffed out.
“I’m sorry.” Charlie’s throat got tight. “About everything.”
“Me too.” The serious expression on his face, and in his eyes, told her he meant it. “You were right. That last summer I wasn’t paying enough attention to you.”
“It’s the past.” She shrugged so he wouldn’t guess how his admission sparked feelings she’d buried deep.
How abandoned she’d felt when Sean had been caught up in Carmichael’s. How hurt and alone. The fear when she found out when she was pregnant, and the miscarriage pain that seared her soul. Abandonment, hurt, fear, and pain she’d carried for years until they became part of her, and meant she could never let herself get close to anyone or trust again.
With an effort, she pushed those feelings back where they belonged. “Your mom loves you and she wants the best for you.”
“She needs to let me decide that. Back then we were kids who got caught in what our families wanted. Maybe in some twisted way, you were even trying to protect me.”
Charlie froze, her muscles tight. Sean didn’t know about the loan. Ellen said so. And nobody beyond her parents and Mia had ever known the terrible choice her dad had forced her to make.
“I’ve read some of your stories. I know what you did for work, how you stayed behind to try to help your colleague even though you were injured too.” He slid an arm around her shoulders. His touch was warm and comforting, and he smelled of cedar mixed with sandalwood soap.
“Anybody would have done what I did.” She licked her lips.
“No they wouldn’t. When that bomb went off, everybody else got out of there fast, but not you.” Sean’s breath ruffled her hair.
“It didn’t make any difference.” Charlie stopped as the memory blindsided her. “Ethan died in my arms. I felt the life go out of his body. The doctor was too late and all the blood…I didn’t know what to do, how to help.” Her body shook and Sean hugged her tight. “I still…I think about what I could have done, how I might have saved him…” She buried her face in his wide shoulder.
“From what I read, you did the best you could.” Sean rested his chin on her head. “You were hurt and in shock. Nobody in that situation could have done anything more.”
“He was only thirty-three. He had a wife and two young kids he adored. He was a great photographer. He had everything to live for.” She stumbled to her feet.
Sean got to his feet too and pulled her in to his muscled chest. Beneath her ear, the rhythmic beat of his heart slowed her frantic breathing. “You also have a lot to live for.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it.” The words burst out of her like tearing a dressing off a wound.
“You need to let it go.” His voice was husky.
“I can’t. I try but…” She clenched her teeth and held back a moan. “It’s there, every day, even here.”
“It must be sucking the life out of you.”
Her eyes widened. Sean had always known her better than anyone, but it rattled her he still did.
“You ever try writing about what happened?�
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“I can’t write about it. Writing would make it…” She burrowed into the clean cotton of his shirt and breathed in his crisp aftershave.
“Real?” Sean tipped her chin up with a gentle finger, and his steady blue gaze pinned hers. He dropped a tender kiss on her forehead before he stepped back and took the warmth and comfort she’d missed all these years with him.
She fumbled for her sandals and jammed her feet into them. “I should get back. Mia will wonder where I’ve gotten to.”
“Always running, aren’t you?” Sean’s voice had a hint of steel.
“Of course not.” She brushed sand from her clothes to hide the tremors that shook her from head to toe.
“You can’t deny there’s still something between us.” Moonlight gilded the strong planes of his face. “I think that’s what my mom talked to you about too.”
“She…I…no.” He couldn’t have guessed, could he? Guessed she’d never really let go of her feelings for him. If coming back here had shown her anything, it had shown her that.
He reached out and traced the inside of her wrist. “We’ve got a lot of history between us, and we need to deal with it, once and for all.”
Charlie’s spine tingled. “I left and we both got over it. End of story.”
“Not buying it.” Sean dropped her wrist and fished his car keys out of the pocket of his jeans. “But since you’re the one talking about a story, maybe you can tell me what the real story is here.” His eyes flashed blue fire.
Charlie shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him. “I don’t know what you mean.” She hated the wobble in her voice.
She’d run for too many years to stop now. She hadn’t let herself trust anyone, not even Max. In fact, where trust was concerned, she’d pretty much convinced herself she’d forgotten how.
Chapter Eight
Naomi slid her sunglasses on and turned to look at Ty in the back of the canoe.
She’d really and truly gotten away with it. She’d strolled out of the cottage with her little sister, headed for the canoeing lesson. Then she’d ducked into the woods where Ty and Crystal waited, and bribed Emma with the promise of a new Barbie outfit to stay at the marina with Crystal. She hadn’t done anything wrong exactly. Emma would be safe with Crystal, and Naomi was still learning about canoeing. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything.
“You okay?” Ty gave her a slow smile, which made her stomach lurch like on a roller coaster, half scared and half excited.
“Great.” She tugged on the orange life jacket. She could swim, but Ty had insisted she wear this dumb thing. Even said he wouldn’t take her out until she put it on. It covered up the outfit she’d worn specially, her favorite short white shorts and turquoise crop top, which would have looked even better if her mom had let her get her belly button pierced.
“You’re sure Emma won’t tell your mom?” Beneath his life jacket, Ty wore a pair of blue swim shorts and a white T-shirt, and each time he raised the paddle, the muscles in his forearms rippled.
“Absolutely.” Naomi wished she could take a picture to prove to Alyssa she was actually alone with a hot guy. A guy who was almost sixteen and so high on the scale of hotness, Alyssa would never believe it. “Emma will have way more fun with Crystal than she would with us.”
“Emma’s pretty little.” Ty dipped the paddle in the water again, a smooth rhythmic motion Naomi could have watched all day.
“She keeps secrets all the time.” But Naomi had never trusted Emma with a secret this big, a secret that could get Naomi in more trouble than she’d ever been in before if her mom found out.
“You sure Crystal won’t tell either?” Naomi flicked her hair over her shoulders, like Alyssa did.
Ty laughed. “No, ’cause I’ve got lots of stuff on her. Besides, she likes working at the marina more than I do.” He glanced at the black sports watch on his wrist. “I thought we’d head over to…” He stopped and scanned the forested shoreline. “Lie down.”
“What?” Naomi leaned forward.
“Lie down,” Ty said again. “In the bottom of the canoe.”
“My clothes, my hair.” The hair she’d spent a whole hour straightening and then curling again into smooth bouncy waves.
“You want my dad and your aunt to see us?”
Naomi slithered down, squeezed under a crosswise piece of wood, and stretched out her legs until the top of her head almost touched Ty’s bare feet. The bottom of the canoe smelled like fish. “You said your dad went into town.”
“He did, but he must have come back.” Ty jerked the paddle, and spray hit Naomi in the face.
She spluttered and spit out lake water. She pulled her sunglasses off, peered over the side of the canoe, and blinked as the sun dazzled her eyes. “That lawyer guy’s there too.” He and Auntie Charlotte and Sean’s dad were in a huddle outside the Carmichael’s workshop.
“Nick McGuire’s a friend of Dad’s.”
The canoe rocked, and the fish smell got stronger. Naomi lay flat again and pressed a hand over her mouth and nose, the taste of the tuna sandwich she’d had for lunch at the back of her throat.
“You notice whenever he’s around your aunt, my dad gets real weird?” Ty paddled fast and the sky became a blue blur streaked with white. “You see him at dinner at Mario’s?”
“You mean how he kept touching her like it was all accidental?” Naomi took her hand away from her face, pressed it on her stomach, and willed herself to not throw up. She wiggled away from a shiny black bug, inches from her face on the side of the canoe.
“Yeah. How they kept looking at each other.”
“It was pretty weird.” It had also been kind of exciting, like one of those romance novels her mom read that Naomi sometimes snuck a peek at.
The canoe slowed, and the rocking motion lessened. “We’re around the point. You can sit up.” Ty reached out a hand to her. “You okay? You look kind of funny.”
“I’m fine.” She slipped her hand into his, wishing her palm wasn’t sweaty. She eased back up and rubbed her other hand across her forehead, half turning to face Ty. “Your dad doesn’t have a girlfriend?”
“Nope.” Ty steered the canoe farther out into the lake. “If you want a drink, I put waters and sodas in the cooler.”
Naomi grabbed the bag he indicated. She pulled out a can of soda and popped the metal tab.
“Since he and my mom split up, he’s dated a couple of women, but nothing serious.” Ty looked at her instead of the lake. “You sure you’re okay?”
Naomi hugged her knees. “The fish smell made me feel sick.” And she was scared. Scared she’d be found out, scared of what she was doing and where it might lead. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe she was too young to handle boys.
“I fish all the time. I guess I never notice any smell.” Ty trailed the paddle in the water. “See the island over there?” He pointed to a wooded outcrop in the middle of the lake. “We can go ashore. Sit a while until you feel better.”
“Okay.” Naomi swallowed soda from the can and savored the sweet liquid as it trickled down her throat. “Thanks.”
“Sure.” Ty turned the canoe again and paddled toward the island.
“How old were you when your parents broke up?” She swallowed more soda, the drink settling the sick feeling in her stomach.
“Really little, about six. My mom remarried ages ago. My stepdad, Matt, he’s okay. I’ve got two half sisters, Emily and Olivia.” Ty steered through some rocks, smooth and gleaming black beneath the water’s surface.
“What was it like, before they split?” Naomi’s heart hammered, and she tried to make her expression casual. Her mom pretended everything was fine, but Naomi knew better. Something was going on. Something bad, and she was scared, more scared than she’d ever been. Other families broke up, but never in a million years had she thought hers might.
“I don’t remember much, but mostly they stopped spending time together. Dad was always at work. Even when he was home,
they didn’t talk a lot.” Ty jumped out of the canoe into waist-high water and grabbed the front. “Sit tight. I’ll have you on shore in a second.”
The canoe slid onto the sand. Naomi half stood, then sat again as the world spun around her. “I, uh…”
“Here, I’ve got you.” Ty lifted her out of the canoe like she was Emma’s age and set her on a patch of dry sand farther up the beach.
She stuck her head between her knees, and hot tears pricked behind her eyelids. She was an idiot. A dumb crybaby. If she could have, she’d have walked right across the lake, back to the cottage, to her bedroom under the eaves. Where she’d stay, hidden beneath the quilt, until it was time to go back to Dallas and she’d never have to face Ty again.
“Naomi?” Ty’s voice was anxious. Not like she was an idiot at all.
“I’m sorry.” What was she was sorry about?
“Your mom and your dad, are you worried about something, like they could split up?”
“Yeah.” She raised her head, not caring if he saw her tears or that her mascara must be streaked across her red cheeks. “My dad was supposed to come here for my birthday and he didn’t, and my mom, she pretends nothing’s wrong. When I know it is. Auntie Charlotte said I could talk to her, but I can’t, not about this.”
“That sucks.” Ty touched her arm. “But my dad says he and Mom are happier apart than they ever were together. It might be like that for your parents. Whatever happens, it has nothing to do with you and me.”
Naomi sniffed. Ty didn’t look like he thought she was a freak. His blue eyes were warm and caring. He looked at her like she was pretty, and special.
Ty unzipped his life jacket. “You’re different from the girls around here.” He gave her the slow smile again, which made her happy and excited and scared, all at the same time. “I’d like to hang out with you.”
“I’d like that too.” Instead of sexy and confident, her voice came out in a squeak. She tugged on her life jacket.