by Sarah Morgan
THE CHILDREN HAD gone and Zach was sawing planks to the required length as a favor to Philip, when he realized he wasn’t alone.
He glanced up and saw Brittany leaning against the door frame watching him.
Given that he’d spent a good ten minutes watching her earlier that morning he wasn’t in a position to complain but this time he kept the eye contact brief. It was a bad idea to use a tool that could remove his fingers and look at Brittany at the same time.
“Something I can do for you?”
“Yes.” She eased away from the door and strolled towards him. “I wanted to talk to you about Travis.”
“Can’t help you with that.” He measured the wood and marked it. “You need to speak to Philip.”
“I intend to.” She helped him steady the plank. “I remember the summer I made a canoe. It used to be one of my favorite activities until it came to put it on the water. I was always terrified it would sink. He reminds me of you, by the way.”
“Philip?”
“Travis. He sits on the edge, as if that’s the only place he feels safe. He doesn’t trust anyone. You were the same.”
He could feel her looking at him as he positioned the plank carefully. “I thought we weren’t talking about the past?”
“I’m interested in what makes people behave the way they do.”
“Maybe you should have done psychology not archaeology.”
“There’s some overlap. It’s my job to ask questions.”
“But not personal questions.”
“No, not personal questions.” She ran her finger along the grain of the wood. “Do you ever think about it? About what happened between us?”
“We both know what happened. You felt sorry for me so you paid me attention.” He lined up the wood and picked up the saw. “You were hot, so I screwed you. I wanted to carry on screwing you so I went along with the whole marriage thing without thinking it through. End of story.” His summary was crude, brutal and fundamentally inaccurate but he was going for effect rather than accuracy.
“You think I felt sorry for you?”
“Didn’t you?”
“No! I mean—” she frowned and searched for the right words “—I was sorry that you’d had a difficult life, but that had nothing to do with what happened between us.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” Exasperation crept into her voice. “Is that really what you think it was? Everything we shared—everything we had—you think that was pity?”
“I never knew what it was.”
“Why did you think I was interested in you, Zach?”
“Because you wanted to know about sex and you’re the sort who always turns to an expert when they want to learn something. It’s the way your brain works.” It was the reason that made the most sense to him. That and her teenage urge to rebel against everyone’s expectations.
She gave a soft laugh. “The sex was part of it, I’m not denying that.”
“Only part of it?”
“Hey, you’re good but not that good.”
He flicked her a glance and she blushed.
“Okay, maybe you are that good, but for the record arrogance isn’t attractive so your sex appeal has just diminished considerably.”
He didn’t want to think about sex, not right now when she was standing right in front of him with that silky dark hair caught in a careless braid that hung down her back. She was casually dressed, but she’d never looked sexier. He wanted to strip her naked in two moves and drive himself into that lithe softness.
He kept his hands on the saw. “It’s not arrogance, it’s about knowing yourself. Sex and screwing up. You said it yourself. The two things I was good at.”
“I was upset when I said that. It wasn’t true.”
“Aside from the fact you missed out flying, it was true.” He wondered if the conversation was bothering her as much as it bothered him. “Even now when I walk into Harbor Stores, I’m always under observation.”
“That’s because Mel wants to get inside your pants.”
The way she said it made him smile. “We both know how much that would thrill her parents. They don’t want me touching anything that belongs to them.”
“You’re wrong, Zach. Maybe that was how it was when you were younger, but to be fair you were a little scary. You were this brooding, silent, Heathcliff type.”
“Is this conversation going somewhere? I need to finish this. I’m flying a CEO and his family to their lodge in Bar Harbor later this afternoon.”
“You pretend you don’t care about anything, but I know that isn’t true. I know you care.”
“I don’t need anyone’s approval.”
“I know. You’re just a big tough guy who does his own thing.” She gave a crooked smile. “Maybe you could use some of your carpentry skills to remove that big chip on your shoulder. And while you’re at it, chop down some of those barriers you’ve built so that you can get out of your own way.”
He finished with the plank and laid it on the floor with the others. “Are you about done?”
“No. You still haven’t told me what you know about Travis.”
“What makes you think I know anything?”
“Because you always know twice as much about everything as you let on. I want to know what’s going on in the boy’s head. He’s not joining in. I don’t think the other kids are being mean or excluding him.” She bit her lip and frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe he isn’t interested. Maybe archaeology isn’t his idea of fun.”
Zach picked up the last piece of wood. “Or maybe he doesn’t know how to have fun. Maybe his life so far has been all about surviving and making it through the next hour.”
There was consternation in her eyes. “Do you think that’s it?”
He suspected he’d barely scratched the surface. It was times like this when he was reminded of the enormous gulf in their life experience. “It’s a guess.”
“Was that what it was like for you?”
He’d never talked about it. Not even to Philip, although he knew the man probably had a file a mile thick on him in his office. Zach had never seen it and wouldn’t have wanted to.
“We were talking about Travis.”
“I know, but I thought—” she broke off and drew a breath. “I thought maybe this once we could talk about you.”
“Why? So you can understand me?” He sawed through the last plank and added it to the others. “Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t need you to understand me?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that your life might be happier if you stopped pushing people away?”
He stilled. “Is that a general comment or a specific one?”
She pushed her hair away from her face, flustered. “General,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t suggesting—” Her eyes met his and the air temperature rose around them.
“Good,” he said roughly. “Because we agreed we weren’t going there.”
“I know! I don’t want to go there.”
He watched her mouth move, seeing the way she wrapped her lips around the lie and wondered why neither of them was mentioning the obvious.
That they’d already gone there.
It was too late to wish it hadn’t happened, because it had.
His gaze held hers for a long moment and then she dropped the piece of wood she’d been holding in her hands, turned and walked out of the barn.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BRITTANY THREW HERSELF into camp life. As well as running an archaeology activity, or Mini Dig, as she named it, she helped out on and around the beach. For many of the children, camp was the end of their summer and soon they’d be back home and into the new school year. Some would be seniors, all would have learned something different over the summer months and hopefully left Camp Puffin having made new friends. The knowledge that the end was in sight made those final days all the more precious. The camp continued over the fall months in a leaner version, directed towards school
groups who used it as part of the biology or geography syllabus, and teachers who signed up for wilderness training. Philip was keen to add archaeology and Brittany was still exploring the options for that.
She formed a habit of rising early so she could walk to the camp. There were two routes from her cottage. One curved around the rocky coast, and the other cut through the forest. Either way, it was a long walk but she loved being outdoors and enjoyed the exercise. In Greece the summer months were too hot to allow for long walks, but here on the island the combination of sun and sea breeze made for perfect hiking conditions. When the weather was bad and the fog settled over the ocean, she zipped up her raincoat and stayed under the protection of the trees.
She loved the seasons in Maine, even the long winter. During the freezing winter months the nature of the island changed, but if anything she loved it more. As an unbridged island they relied on the ferry. The service was scaled down in the winter and sometimes didn’t run at all if the weather was too wild. As a result the community relied on each other, watched out for each other and created a web of support.
Although Brittany didn’t love being the object of pity, she did enjoy the community spirit.
Winters for her had meant cozy evenings indoors with her grandmother and friends, playing cards, games or chatting over a meal while snow fell outside the window. She’d done her homework on the scrubbed kitchen table to the sounds of bubbling on the stove as Kathleen had cooked their supper. Her grandmother had prepared warming casseroles and homemade soup from vegetables she’d grown herself and stored in the freezer. Sometimes the snow had been so deep they’d had to dig their way out of the cottage, and sometimes they’d endured ice storms and long power outages. Kathleen had kept the cottage well stocked and treated every obstacle as an adventure.
Being back at camp reminded her of those times.
As the days passed, her wrist ached less and when Zach flew her over to the mainland for another checkup, this time the news was better. The doctor told her that the bones appeared to be healing well and the plaster could be removed on her next visit.
“And the first thing I’m going to do,” she told Zach as they prepared the kayaks for an afternoon of water sports, “is swim in the sea.”
“Happy to throw you in anytime. Just say the word.”
“You did that once before.”
“Yeah. You were spitting mad.”
“Because I was still wearing my clothes!”
“Not for long. Seem to remember I helped you out of those wet things pretty quickly.”
She remembered it, too. She remembered all of it. “Very generous of you.”
“There are no limits to the sacrifices I’m prepared to make to get a woman naked. Push that kayak farther up the beach or it’s going to end up halfway across the Atlantic.”
“I know as much about kayaks as you.”
She pretended to be annoyed, but the truth was that working with Zach had proved easier than she’d anticipated. Of course there were days when he wasn’t around. Days when he disappeared to fly people with more money than she could imagine to remote parts of the state or up to Canada. But the rest of the time he pulled his weight in the camp, helping out wherever he was needed. There was a quiet strength about him, a self-assurance and confidence that meant the camp counselors often turned to him for advice. And so did the children.
Except for Travis.
He turned to no one.
Each week of camp ended with Starlight Adventure, and Brittany was hoping that this particular activity might give her the opportunity to spend time with Travis.
The day before the overnight camp, she dropped into Harbor Stores to buy a selection of snacks for the hike through the forest. Today there were no issues with the weather, not even a hint of the fog that so often plagued this part of Maine in August. The bright sunny weather had brought a flood of summer visitors and the store was busy. Grateful to be able to avoid a conversation with Mel, she got in line behind a family loaded down with beach gear and two excited children, paid for her purchases, and then strolled out into the sunshine.
Main Street was busy, a mix of locals and tourists, all keen to make the most of the last days of summer.
On impulse, she took a detour via Summer Scoop, the ice-cream store that Emily had been trying to turn around over the summer.
One look at the line told her that her friend had done a good job.
She stood patiently, admiring the murals on the walls that Sky had painted along with some of the locals. The fresh paint and cheerful decor was proof that when things were tough, the islanders pulled together.
“Brittany! What can I get you?” Lisa beamed at her from across the counter, her smile yet more evidence of the turnaround in the fortunes of her business.
“You’re busy.”
“Insanely busy. I could cry with relief. I sold more ice cream this morning than I did in the whole first week of July. And it’s all because of Emily. She’s a genius. Scoop of the day is Salted Caramel Crunch.”
“Scoop of the day?”
“Emily’s idea. I promote a flavor. Larger scoop, lower price.”
Conscious that the line was building up behind her, Brittany nodded. “Salted Caramel Crunch sounds good.”
“Make it two.” Zach’s voice came from behind her and she felt delicious warmth spread to every corner of her body.
She was fairly sure the warmth reached her face, which was an embarrassing turn of events for a woman who’d believed she’d left her blushing days behind in her teens. Because she didn’t want him to see how flushed she was, she took her time turning around.
“You’re expecting me to buy you an ice cream, Flynn? I’m a penniless archaeologist.” She cast what she hoped passed for a casual glance over her shoulder and her mouth dried. Now it wasn’t just warmth, it was heat. The way he was looking at her made her feel as if she might need to call the paramedics.
911 dispatch, what seems to be the problem?
Well, there’s this guy …
“I’ve got this.” He handed over a bill, and took both ice creams. “I’m interested to know how you were planning on eating ice cream and carrying that bag when you only have one hand.”
“I admit I hadn’t thought it through. Ice cream finds a way.” And in any case, if Zachary Flynn had the same effect on the ice cream that he had on her, her salted caramel would be in a puddle around her feet in seconds.
The intense pull of lust was entirely inappropriate for their surroundings. They were standing in a crush of small, eager children.
Reading her mind, Zach gave a faint smile, led the way through the throng of children and parents, and held the door open for her.
She brushed past him, wondering why she should find such an old-fashioned gesture sexy when she’d been opening her own doors for most of her life.
Outside the sun dazzled, and she put her bag down and took her ice cream from him.
“Thanks. Do you realize this is the first meal you’ve ever bought me?” Trying to act normally, she licked around the edges, catching the sweet melting drips with the edge of her tongue.
“I bought you dinner when we were dating.” He broke off as Hilda approached and Brittany saw his shoulders tense.
“Good morning, pumpkin. How’s that wrist of yours behaving?” Hilda beamed at Brittany and gave Zach a speculative look. “I hear you broke into Kathleen’s cottage.”
Zach was still. “Yes, ma’am.”
Brittany waited for him to explain that he’d heard her scream, but he didn’t. He said nothing and she felt a rush of exasperation.
“He was helping me out, Hilda.”
“I know. Emily told me all about it. She was round helping Agnes adjust some curtains the other day.” Hilda nodded approval and patted Zach on the arm. “Good to know you’re looking out for our girl. You have strong muscles and I like a man with strong muscles. My Bill was the same. We had a lot of fun in the bedroom.”
Brit
tany didn’t look at Zach. “Hilda—”
“What? Sex isn’t just for the young, you know. The only difference is that we oldies aren’t allowed to talk about it. You need to eat your ice cream before it melts.” She gave his arm a final squeeze. “And fix that lock for her. If anyone knows how to make that cottage secure, it’s you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Not by the flicker of an eyelash did Zach show any reaction to the oblique reference to his murky past.
As Hilda wandered off to her next conversation, Brittany closed her eyes. “Sorry. If it’s any consolation, I think you’ve been given the seal of approval. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“She cares about you. They all care about you.” He finished his ice cream. “And she’s right that your lock needs fixing. I’m going to deal with that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that lock.”
“I gained entry into your property in under five seconds.”
“That’s because you have special skills.”
He turned his head briefly and there was a sardonic gleam in his eyes.
She knew his mind wasn’t on his housebreaking skills and neither was hers.
Sweltering under the heat of her own thoughts, she licked at her melting ice cream. “And for the record, you never bought me dinner, Flynn.” She moved farther away from the line that was now trailing out the door and down the street. “And, let’s be honest, we didn’t date. We hung out and had lots of sex.”
“And then got married.”
She kept her voice light. “Put like that it’s hard to see how it went so wrong.”
“Are you saying I owe you dinner, Dr. Forrest?” He spoke slowly, in that rough masculine voice that had always made her nerve endings tingle.
“You don’t owe me anything. But I now owe you a Salted Caramel Crunch ice cream. I don’t want to be in debt, not even for carbs and sugar.”
He smiled at her.
Her heart thudded and she felt a rush of excitement and awareness that only ever happened when she was with him.
His smile turned speculative and his gaze dropped slowly to her mouth. Neither of them spoke, but they didn’t need to. She knew, she just knew, that they were thinking the same thing.