Island of Second Chances

by Cara Lockwood

  “I don’t see how that would change things. You... I mean, what you did.” Laura lowered her voice, as if somehow the other people in the bar would overhear. She glanced at a waitress who scurried by them carrying a tray loaded with fish and chips and hamburgers and fries.

  “You mean you’ve never done something wrong, something that everyone would think was terrible, but no one ever gave you the chance to explain?” Edward asked, as if he could see into her very heart. She had done something wrong. Something very wrong.

  “What if I had?” she asked, daring Edward to come up with a reason to justify taking Mark’s wife and the company.

  “Then you understand there are two sides to every story.”

  Laura watched him, waiting.

  “Did Mark tell you he lost his son?” Laura nodded once. “Did he tell you what he was like after that? What he did?”

  “He was grieving,” she assumed.

  “Yes, he was. But he lashed out. At everyone. At me, at his friends, at his wife. That day was a tragic accident, but he blamed his wife,” he said.

  “Yes, but she fell asleep. I get it was an accident, but how irresponsible,” she said.

  “I know it sounds bad. But Timothy had trouble sleeping at night. She was up with him most nights, and she was just tired. And it’s a mistake she has to live with for the rest of her life.” Edward glared at his amber-colored beer in his glass. “But Mark, he called his buddy, the police chief on the island. He came, put handcuffs on her. Took her to jail for neglect. She spent two nights there before I hired a lawyer and got the charges dropped. She might still be there if I hadn’t intervened.”

  Laura wasn’t sure how she felt about that. If it was truly an accident, did she deserve jail? Then again, her fiercely protective mothering instincts took over, as she thought of Timothy, left unsupervised. Maybe she should be punished.

  Laura didn’t know. The situation seemed so hard. Before she could say more, she heard someone clearing his throat behind her. When she spun on her stool, she saw Mark standing there, freshly showered and wearing a button-down white linen shirt and khaki shorts. His face seemed flushed beneath his tan, as his dark eyes flashed with anger.

  “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, glaring first at her and then his brother.

  Chapter Ten

  MARK FELT THE heat rise up his neck as anger, thick and hot, flowed through him. And jealousy, too. Laura had her legs crossed at the knee, revealing the bare skin of her newly tanned legs, and she was sitting entirely too close to Edward, the man he trusted least on the entire island. They practically sprang apart when he approached, as if he’d interrupted a secret rendezvous.

  Or was that just his history talking?

  Laura didn’t belong to him. She couldn’t cheat on him. Yet part of him wanted her to be at least enough on his side not to have a drink with the one man he disliked most in the world.

  “We just met,” Laura said quickly, green eyes wide, pleading. Her red, red lips parted and he couldn’t be mad at her. She was too damn pretty. He focused all his rage on Edward instead.

  “Yes, I was just about to tell her about how you got me all wrong,” Edward said, taking a calm sip of his beer.

  “I didn’t get you wrong.” I know you all too well. “Besides, don’t you have Elle at home? Where’s she?” Mark wanted to remind Edward and let Laura know that this little snake wasn’t free. He had a woman at home, after all. One he’d stolen, but still.

  “She’s fine. Tired, that’s all.” Edward kept his voice even. Laura’s head swiveled back and forth as she looked from one brother to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “When are you going to learn, brother, that you’re the only one who thinks I’m the bad guy?”

  Edward nodded around the Rusted Anchor, and that’s when Mark noticed that more than a few of the patrons were glancing at them. He knew almost all of them. The sailing community was a small one on St. Anthony’s and even those who came from other islands tended to be regulars. Most of them had money, or at least enough of it so they could live a life like a nomad, hopping from place to place.

  Mark glanced up and noticed Dave and his wife dining in a nearby booth. Dave nodded at him, but his wife barely glanced in his direction. At least Elle wasn’t here. That would make this ten times worse.

  “Is that so?” Mark challenged him. “Laura, what do you think? Did I get him wrong?”

  Laura flushed red beneath her new tan. “Look, I don’t want to get drawn into this,” she said, holding up one newly calloused hand. Her hands had been working on his boat all week, he reminded himself. She was supposed to be on his side.

  Until you messed it up by pushing her away, an inner voice scolded. Just like you pushed Elle away.

  “You’re already in it,” Mark pressed.

  “Mark, I...”

  “Stop bullying the lady,” Edward said, a steely warning in his voice. Laura once more glanced from one man to the other, looking like she wished to be anywhere but here.

  Mark, for his part, was one more insulant line away from clocking Edward, right here in front of all his friends and all of St. Anthony’s regulars. He was tired of everyone taking Edward’s side, even when he was clearly in the wrong. It had been that way since the two of them were little. Edward could do no wrong, and Mark got blamed for everything.

  Their father had raced sailboats in his spare time in Florida, where they grew up, and he’d worked as a lawyer by day. Edward was his father’s favorite, the one who learned how to sail first, the one who went racing first. Mark had been an afterthought, always having to work harder to prove that he belonged on the sea, too. Edward took credit for building Tanner Boating, when it was Mark’s blood, sweat and tears that had made that business what it was. Hell, it hadn’t even been Edward’s idea in the first place.

  Now all of that was gone. He felt the throbbing unfairness of it, the way nothing in life was fair when it came to Edward. The way he never had to work for anything. Ever. Life handed him things. Their father’s approval, his ex-wife’s affection and now...Laura. Mark couldn’t let that happen. Not this time.

  He glared at his brother, mute, words failing him. Edward stared back and the tension between the two men grew so thick the general buzz at the bar lowered as patrons took notice.

  “Everything okay here?” Suddenly, Mark felt a heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder. Dave’s. Mark felt the sudden urge to shrug off his old friend’s touch. He still felt the sting of the betrayal of Dave leaving, even if it was to keep the peace in his own home.

  “No, Dave. It’s not.” Hadn’t been for a while. And you only made it worse.

  “Did Dave tell you the good news?” Edward said.

  Dave suddenly looked uncertain. “Edward, maybe...”

  “He’s racing my boat. For Tanner.”

  “What?” Mark glared at Dave, looking for some kind of explanation. He knew his friend wasn’t sailing with him, but he had no idea he’d defected.

  “No sense in letting his sailing talents go to waste.”

  Mark felt like he’d been sucker punched. “Really?” he managed. Dave had the decency to turn red.

  “Mark, man, I’m sorry...” He glanced back at his wife, sitting in the far booth and sending Mark death glares. At this point, Mark didn’t care about Dave’s wife. She could go take a long walk off a short pier.

  “Unbelievable.” Mark shook his head. Now he didn’t know who to hit, Edward or Dave. Or both.

  “Even if you do finish that rust bucket of yours, brother, I don’t think you’ll be able to find a sailor as good as Dave.”

  “I’m as good as Dave.”

  “Then you’ll need to clone yourself to fill out your crew,” Edward said.

  Mark’s hand twitched, itching to do something. Clock Edward like he’d done when they were kids. Only Mark was never the one to str
ike first. Maybe that would change tonight. Maybe that would finally change.

  “Mark.” Laura’s voice cut through his anger. She slipped quietly off her stool and put her own body between him and his brother. “Mark, take me home.”

  He didn’t want to take her home. He wanted to finally teach his brother a lesson. The kind of lesson he never got growing up.

  “Mark.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please.”

  The tone of her please made him break eye contact with his brother. He glanced down at her sad green eyes. And in that second, he realized he couldn’t fight his brother. Not with her there. She’d already been through too much.

  “Okay,” he said, softening. He took a step back and she followed. He was hyperaware of her and his brother, the adrenaline and emotion pumping hard through his veins. It took every bit of his self-control not to throw a punch.

  “See you around, Laura,” Edward called to their backs.

  Both he and Laura stiffened. He curled his hand into a fist but Laura wrapped her arms around him. “Let’s go,” she reiterated, and within her tight hug, he knew he couldn’t throw the punch he’d been planning.

  He simply nodded, as he put his arm around her and they walked out, side by side. Outside, in the warm night air, Laura’s explanations came fast and furious, as Mark led her to his pickup truck.

  “I didn’t know he was your brother until after he introduced himself,” she proclaimed. “And I hadn’t even been talking to him that long. He only bought me one drink and that was before I knew who he was.”

  “He bought you a drink?” Jealousy flared in his chest as he flicked the key fob and unlocked the doors, the taillights flaring.

  “I didn’t know who he was,” she protested as she stopped by the passenger side door, palms up, almost pleading.

  “But you were fine with having a stranger buy you a drink?” Mark boxed her in between his body and his truck. She was so small, so tiny, she had to crane her neck to look at him, her green eyes defiant in the moonlight.

  In an instant, her apologetic demeanor disappeared.

  “Why are you so mad about it?” She put one hand on her hip.

  It was a good question. Why was he so mad about it? He had no official claim on her, and he’d refused to kiss her yesterday.

  But part of him already knew why. Because he wanted her and because he’d lost everything else in his life and just couldn’t—wouldn’t lose her. No matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, the truth was staring him in the face. He glanced at her full, red lips and wanted nothing more than to taste them.

  “I don’t want you hanging around Edward.”

  She put her back against the door of his pickup. “Why?”

  It seemed like she was baiting him on purpose.

  “You know why. He’s bad news.” He barely gritted out the words.

  “Is that all?” She tapped her foot, and he was aware they were standing in the parking lot, beneath a full Caribbean moon and in full view of the windows of the Rusted Anchor. Was Edward watching them fight? Was he waiting to come pounce?

  When he didn’t have an answer at the ready, she barreled on. “You sound jealous.”

  “I’m not,” he lied.

  “You don’t have any right to be jealous.” She poked him in the chest with one finger. The ocean breeze ruffled her short dark hair, so smooth and silky. He wanted to put his hands in it. “You had your chance. You—”

  She was going to tell him that he’d missed his chance to kiss her, and he knew he’d blown that moment. If he could take it back now, he would. Instead, he did something rash. Before he even knew what he was doing, he grabbed her by the arms, pulled her to him and kissed her on her full, red lips.

  He deserved a slap, he supposed, but instead, she kissed him back. Hard. All the adrenaline and emotion of the last few minutes bubbled up between them, as she opened her mouth for him, and he tasted her.

  Their tongues met, crashing together in a sudden animalistic burst of passion. She pressed her body into his, and he felt the soft brush of her breasts against him as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist. She was running her hands through his hair, driving him wild as her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. He didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. Ten seconds? Ten years? His body was alive again for the first time in a long time with want and need and desire.

  Why had he been fighting this, he wondered. He loved her mouth. The way her tongue danced with his. All he wanted to do was take her into his bed and find out all the other ways he could love her.

  He cupped her from behind and she moaned in his mouth as he found her firm butt and pressed her closer to him. His own body stirred in ways she couldn’t miss. He released her and pressed her against the side of his truck. She raised up one leg, wrapping it seductively around the side of his thigh, and he pressed into her.

  He could feel her warmth beneath the thin layer of her dress and he slid his hand up the soft silkiness of her outer thigh to discover she wore only a skinny thong beneath her dress. His fingers teased the elastic band, and he was so out of his mind, he didn’t think about where they were, about who could see them, about how they were acting like two impulsive kids.

  “Wait,” Laura breathed, pulling back, her hand on his. He released his grip on her underwear, slowly coming to his senses. Was he going to take her right here in the Rusted Anchor parking lot? In full view of everyone? He glanced back at the bar, but only saw shadows in the window.

  He let her go with a shaky breath as he backed off.

  “Sorry... I...I don’t know what happened.” He was breathing hard. “I shouldn’t have... I mean, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Even in the moonlight, he could see her pupils, dilated with want. “I liked it.”

  “You did?”

  She nodded back toward the windows of the bar. “Even if you were doing it for his benefit and not mine.”

  “Laura,” he began to protest. How could he explain that it wasn’t just about one-upping his brother? He wanted her. Yet, she opened the passenger side of the pickup truck and shut the door on him before he could even explain.

  He shook his head.

  This was why he didn’t get involved with women. He’d never understand them. They were always angry for crazy reasons that made no sense to him. He sighed. Kissing Laura had been a mistake, he thought. One he shouldn’t make again.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE CAR RIDE back was tense, but neither one said a word. What was there to say? Laura thought. She knew why suddenly Mark had found an interest in her. He’d seen her talking to the brother who betrayed him and it was just good old sibling rivalry at work.

  She glanced at his profile, his handsome, tanned face staring out the window, intent on not looking at her. What more proof did she need? At this point, she wanted to protest even him driving her, but then she remembered they lived at the same address. That was going to be awkward, she thought, seeing him around the condo now. Maybe she ought to just cut her lease short. She had three more weeks reserved, but surely she could find other accommodations on the island.

  But was that really the end of the world? Or was Laura just so desperate to get her mind off her problems that making new ones was the only way out?

  The small island road ahead of them was lit only by the headlights of his truck, as all of the streetlights on St. Anthony’s seemed to be either in Smuggler’s Cove or on major parts of the seaside highway. Outside her window, Laura saw the huge full moon hanging in a sky full of stars. Away from all the lights of San Francisco, she saw some of the constellations her mother, an astronomer, had pointed out to her when she was little.

  Her mother had been such a larger-than-life figure. An astronomer doing research at Berkeley, a woman who seemed to have it all, except for the will to live. She’d battled depression all he
r life.

  Did Laura have the same condition? she wondered. Had some life event set off the chemical imbalance for her mother? Maybe her mother had suffered a loss, like a miscarriage, and then just never recovered. Now Laura would never be able to ask her. She might never know.

  She still felt angry at her mother, though, an anger that never quite went away. Sure, life was hard. Laura knew it was, but her mother had had two daughters to think about. Laura might have been an adult at twenty-five, but she still felt on some basic level her mother had abandoned her.

  They’d been so close, talked every day on the phone and not a day went by that Laura didn’t miss her mother. Not a day went by that she didn’t wonder why her mother had done it or feel a flare of anger at her choice.

  If I ever do have a baby, I’d never leave her, not ever, not even when she’s twenty-five. Motherhood was supposed to be a lifetime appointment.

  They arrived back at the condo and Laura stepped out, looking up at the dark night sky filled with bright stars.

  “There’s Orion,” she said aloud, pointing toward the constellation’s three-star belt. She didn’t know why she’d said it. Maybe hearing the words brought the memory of her mother just a little bit closer. She didn’t expect an answer from Mark. But he gave her one.

  “You know the stars?” he asked, surprised as he shut his driver’s-side door with a thump.

  “My mom was an astronomer,” she said, craning her neck up. “And see? The Big Dipper...and the North Star there.”

  “You sound almost like a sailor.”

  Laura looked at him sharply, worried he was poking fun at her. “I’m not.”

  “It’s a compliment,” Mark explained as he slowly moved around the side of the truck, hesitating to move closer to her. “Most people don’t know as much as they should about the sky.”

  “My mother taught me all about the sky,” Laura said. “Before she killed herself.”

  Even in the moonlight, Laura could tell Mark’s face went pale. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...”