by L. L. Akers
She nodded her head and answered him without turning around. “Good. I mean, the fig stuff is good. I like it. Thanks for the sample.”
Not knowing what else to say, Grayson wanted to escape. He took two steps and stopped. “Can’t put it back, now that it’s opened,” he grumbled. “You can have this jar. I’ll stick it in the fridge for you to take home later,” he said over his shoulder.
“Thanks,” she answered over her own shoulder.
13
OLIVIA tried to pay attention to Emma and Gabby as they went over the wedding checklist one last time, but her mind wandered. Three days on the island before the ceremony, with only her two sisters, their men and Rickey.
She thought about Grayson. After leaving the pantry yesterday, he’d avoided her for the rest of the day and evening. They’d worked on getting them unpacked until nearly bedtime, and during that time, he’d evaded any conversation with her, and even stepped away and took a slightly different route when he saw their paths were about to cross both in and out of the house.
Sure, they’d both had their hands full with a box of some sort, so maybe he was being a gentleman—or he was avoiding her. Maybe he thought she was on the prowl. And maybe she was... but not for him. And now she was about to be trapped on a destination-wedding-vacation with him, in the same beach-house. Great.
No doubt that as the fifth wheel, she’d be hanging with Rickey. It was too bad that Dad wasn’t able to travel due to his diabetes. He’d had all sorts of trouble with his legs and feet and his doctors didn’t think he should take the trip. No one pressured him. It was going to be more an elopement than a wedding anyway. They’d rented the beautiful stained-glass church, but it would be filled with flowers instead of people. Emma wanted the dress, the flowers, the candles and the pictures... but she wanted it to be only the immediate family and the preacher—intimate.
It’s not the end of the world, she thought. I love that little man to pieces. We’ll have a great time. She turned to see him, curled up on with a blanket on the floor in front of the TV.
Ozzie was stretched out beside him, with Rickey’s limp hand buried in his fur. The dog had liked the boy right away. She wished Emma would take him... he’d be a great pet for Rickey. But he’d screwed up and growled at Dusty—and Jake—so the guys didn’t trust him.
He was being dropped at an animal shelter on their way out tomorrow. She hoped Ember would call soon so she could tell her to go get him... before it was too late. She didn’t have the room for a big dog in a small apartment, and this couldn’t be worse timing. She’d tried Ember’s cell phone and received an automated message that it was no longer in service.
Poor dog...she thought, and poor kid; it’s gonna break his heart. She would make it a point to spend time with Rickey on the trip, but she’d like to enjoy the island as an adult too; Jake and Gabby would be together, no doubt stealing romantic moments alone, and so would Emma and Dusty—this was their wedding and honeymoon, after all.
She could imagine the two couples holding hands while walking on the beach, or watching the absolutely amazing sunsets that Bald Head Island laid claim to, sitting on the shore—together—with their toes in the sand, listening to the waves crash in.
And she would be alone.
Well, almost alone. It left only Rickey—a child. And Grayson—a stranger. And if he avoided her here, he’d avoid her there. So that left just her and Rickey again. It was almost embarrassing. She felt like the old maid of the family. The sitter.
She sighed.
They were leaving first thing in the morning and she wanted—needed—to chat with FindHerKeepHer one last time. If he would only agree to come, whether it turned out to be a match or not, she’d at least have someone to serve as a buffer—or maybe distraction—to Grayson. Then she could avoid him right back. She would too. She wasn’t interested in someone like him anyway. His hot and cold nature both confused and infuriated her. He was too standoffish...too unapproachable...too sexy for his own good...and too... well, just too much.
Before meeting Grayson she’d been ready to finally open up a little... to take a chance. She didn’t want to waste that chance on him when she knew FindHerKeepHer so much better.
She’d invested a lot of time in cultivating the friendship with her online friend, one that would be a good platform for a relationship. She trusted him, to a point, and he knew her... kind of. He knew her past. And her fears. And he didn’t judge her.
He was also much easier to talk to. But maybe that was because of the buffer of their anonymity. If they finally pulled aside the curtain, and met...would it be as awkward in real life as it was between her and Grayson?
If it was like that between her and FindHerKeepHer too, maybe she’d need to admit to herself that it was about her. Her monkey. Her circus. Her own leftover issues, and not Grayson’s.
Maybe she didn’t know how to start a real relationship. Maybe she would never move on. Maybe she’d be the one single sister forever. Always the one looking in from the outside, helping to plan weddings, baby showers, housewarming parties, and other milestones. What if she never had any milestones of her own?
Her jaw set.
No! She wasn’t going to be left behind. She deserved happiness too. She was tired of always being the odd man out, the one sister who didn’t have someone to love—someone adult-sized and male.
She missed having someone sleeping on the other side of her, someone who knew her intimately, and someone to say good morning and good night to. She still held hopes that it might be FindHerKeepHer. They already had a good head start on starting a relationship. All her baggage had been laid out and unpacked, yet he still stuck around... talked to her, listened to her... Sometimes he seemed to really care about her. Other times, not so much. Did he or didn’t he?
There was only one way to find out.
She flipped her laptop open and there was his sign-on, flashing.
“Hi!” she typed.
She watched as the screen indicated FindHerKeepHer was responding.
“Hi, yourself. Still home?”
“Only for tonight. We leave in the morning.”
“Cool. I hope you have a good trip.”
So he hadn’t changed his mind. Had she mentioned the island was accessible all day?
“The ferry runs every hour on the hour if you change your mind about coming,” she typed.
There was a long awkward pause.
Eager to fill it before it became weird, she typed, “If you send me a msg, I can meet you at the ferry landing. I’ll tell you what I’m wearing so that you can find me. Emma said you can room with the groom’s brother. His daughter isn’t coming. She’s afraid of water. Islands are out of her comfort zone.”
She sat back and stared at the screen. She felt a moment of panic. What if he said yes? And what if he was beyond ugly? Would that matter to her? She’d like to think not; she’d like to think she wasn’t that shallow... but what if he was so repulsive she was embarrassed of him in front of her family? Maybe she should say forget it before he agreed.
Her fingers hovered over the keys in anticipation and indecision. She willed them to type “never mind” and retract her invitation before he surprised her by saying yes. But then she might never know if he cared enough to put down his defenses and agree to come... and what if this was her only shot at meeting him? The only safe way...
She could kick herself for not insisting they exchange pictures a long time ago, before she’d become so invested in their relationship... if they could even call it that.
She tapped her finger against her lips while she worried and waited for his response. Even if he said yes, she could still think of a way out of it. Maybe say there wasn’t room after all? That she’d just received a text from Emma? She hated to lie, but meeting an almost-stranger, on a small island, with absolutely no idea what he looked like and who he really was... was she an idiot?
Omigod.
Her heart raced. Emma would kill her if sh
e brought some psycho freak and he ruined her wedding.
“What do you think, Olivia?” Gabby asked.
Olivia startled. “What?” She looked from Gabby to Emma, who both sat with notebooks on their laps, their legs stretched out on the couch with their feet scrunched up against each other’s. They looked cozy.
“Oh, yeah. That’ll work,” she answered with only a bit of a delay, trying to appear as though she’d been listening.
Emma laughed and nudged Gabby with her foot. “See, I told you she wasn’t listening.”
Gabby laughed too. “You agreed to go braless under our bridesmaid gowns. Grayson should enjoy the view. Hope it’s not too chilly.”
Olivia tilted her head and gave them a stern look. “Not happening. I’m wearing a bra.”
Emma threw a wadded up piece of paper at her. It bounced off the back of her laptop. “Then pay attention. Next time there’ll be no take-backs.”
She looked back at her laptop. He was typing.
“Dragonfly, I’ve got to tell you some—Can it!”
Can it? As in... shut up? Her eyes widened. Seriously? Was he getting irritated at her asking him to go? He’d never been rude directly to her before. Well, there was the other night when he’d made the comment about her ‘girls.’ But in the end, she’d thought she’d misunderstood him after all. He’d just been worried about her safety. Maybe not. What the heck?
Her fingers were frozen. How to respond to that? Before she could come up with a reply, another message appeared.
“No. Sorry. Typo. Meant can’t. Not can it. Got to sign off. Talk later. Have fun.” His icon went dark. He’d hung up fast...
Her shoulders dropped in relief and disappointment. Relief because he wasn’t being a jerk, and disappointment because she knew she couldn’t ask again. He didn’t want to go. To ask again would risk their friendship. And their future. If there was one...
The irony of the typo wasn’t lost on her either. The second she’d seen the words, “can it,” an image of Grayson with his canning of fruit and veggies came to mind... his finger in her mouth... the hint of saltiness from his skin whispering under the sweetness of the fig preserves. And then his abrupt exit. It’d felt like a knee-jerk dismissal. Hot... then cold.
She felt a tightness in her neck. She reached behind her. Lifting her hair with one hand and squeezing her neck with the other, she massaged it. After a year of looking forward to this vacation and Emma’s wedding, now she was beginning to feel stress about the trip. All because of Grayson. She wished he would stay home with his daughter, Graysie. Or that he would have been the dumpy, ugly older brother—too old and unattractive for her to feel anything for.
Okay. I can ignore him, too. I have FindHerKeepHer who will still be here waiting for me when I get home. So I’m not the one who’s alone. I’m kinda in a relationship. And I’ll be sure to let Grayson know that.
She closed her laptop and forced a smile. She turned her chair toward her sisters. She wasn’t going to let on to them about her disappointment, or her insecurities. No way would she make this trip about herself. It was Emma’s moment, and as the oldest sister—even if by only three minutes—she wouldn’t let anything or anyone spoil it.
14
Grayson watched as Olivia cajoled, begged and tried to drag Ozzie through the metal detector to board the ferry in Southport. The dog was having none of it. Something about it scared him. Maybe he could hear a high frequency that they couldn’t? Whatever it was, her buck-thirty-ish frame was no match for a dog that size. She couldn’t budge him. They were holding up the line and he could hear murmurs behind him as the crowd grew impatient.
He looked down at his feet. He was embarrassed for her. Dusty and her sisters had all filed onto the ferry without a backward glance at her, leaving her to struggle alone with the big dog. He’d been muzzled—apparently for everyone’s safety. Grayson wasn’t happy about that, but the dog seemed fine with it. He’d watched Olivia and Ozzie from his seat, one row back at the terminal. She’d sat with Dusty, Jake, Rickey, and her sisters, waiting for the ferry to arrive. He’d heard her tell Jake and Dusty she just couldn’t abandon the dog at the shelter.
He’d been happy to hear that.
Dusty hadn’t minded him not sitting with the family. He’d given Grayson his space without asking questions. His little brother knew he needed to be alone to steel himself against the upcoming ferry-ride. The ocean had been off limits to him for a decade. And Dusty knew why. It was Grayson’s kryptonite. He didn’t like it. At. All.
This... this was over the top. Not only was he about to be face to face with his kryptonite—the ocean—but he would be cooped up on a fourteen-mile long island, surrounded by the deep, frothing water of the Atlantic Ocean and the Cape Fear River for five solid days—with no way to leave it, except... by more water.
He looked at his feet to avoid the panoramic view of the seemingly unending blue ocean. He could hear the waves crashing against the boat, and taste the salt in the air.
His heart beat faster. He wrinkled his nose and sucked in a deep breath of the salty air. He held it a moment, and slowly let it out, willing his pulse to slow down.
No use getting worked up over it, he silently reprimanded himself. Dusty had humbly asked him to stand up beside him. And of course he would. It was his little brother. He understood his little brother’s desire to make his bride happy, and this is where she wanted to tie the knot. He’d be an asshole to deny Dusty this because of his own phobia. He’d just have to keep calm, and grin and bear it long enough to get through it and get home to Graysie. Then he could keep living life. One step at a time, on solid ground.
He looked up in time to catch Olivia glance at him. She looked away quickly, jerking on the leash once more, but he’d seen a quiet look of desperation there.
He pushed through the crowd giving his pardons and excuse me’s to the other passengers.
“Let me help,” he said to Olivia, who looked near tears. She gave a quick, frantic nod and held the leash out without hesitation.
Grayson stooped down and held his hand in front of Ozzie’s nose. The dog sniffed him and wagged his nub. He leaned in and scratched Ozzie behind the ears, telling him he was a good dog. Then he stood up and gently tugged the leash. “Come on, boy. Let’s go.”
The dog easily followed him through the rectangular metal detector and up the ramp to board the ferry.
Grayson kept walking, hoping to take him as far from the crowd as he could get him. Maybe then Olivia would take the muzzle off the poor dog. It was hot out here. He tossed a look over his shoulder to be sure she was still following.
He found his brother on the top level, on the far end of the deck, standing with Emma and Gabby. He had Rickey perched up, feet on the bottom row of the railing, positioned directly in front of him with his arms on either side to catch him should he fall. The boy was really enjoying the view, and chattering a mile a minute, pointing his finger at the flock of white Ibises that swooped by, spreading its wings low over the water.
He joined them, but faced the opposite direction, giving the ocean his back. He settled Ozzie into a sitting position in front of him and waited for Olivia, watching her make the walk across the deck as he leaned against the rail.
The salty wind blew her hair around her face. Even flushed and flustered, she was beautiful.
She joined him and tossed her hair over her shoulder as he handed her the leash.
“Thanks so much for your help,” she said, as her hand brushed his. “I don’t know what got in to him back there.” She smiled and her eyes crinkled a bit at the corners, the blue of them shining like sapphires.
Grayson’s stomach flipped as a shot of electricity coursed through his body. Startled, he yanked his hand away as if he’d been burned. What the hell?
Olivia watched his reaction and her shoulders slumped as the smile faded from her face.
He looked down at the deck. “Sorry. I’m going to go sit below in the passenger cabin.�
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He didn’t speak to anyone else as he walked away, making his way off the top deck to the safety and comfort of the enclosed seating underneath, where he preferred to sit alone.
15
Gabby sympathized with Olivia. But right now, it was time to have fun, not to moon over a jerk.
She’d seen the way Grayson had reacted to Olivia’s touch and she was embarrassed for her twin sister. It wasn’t like Olivia was coming on to him or something. She was only being friendly—and thankful for his help with Ozzie.
Gabby didn’t understand his attitude. Emma had noticed it, too. When they mentioned his stand-offish behavior to Dusty, they’d been stonewalled. They guessed blood was thicker than water, because he refused to answer any questions about Grayson, other than that he worked mostly from home—on the computer day and night—and that he was single. Duh. They’d figured that much out.
He was a loner. That much was clear, especially when they found out Grayson and Graysie had actually been in town three months, living out of a suitcase in a temporary apartment until the house was ready. Hard to believe they hadn’t met him yet.
Grayson seemed nice enough to both her and Emma, and Rickey already adored him and had quickly taken to referring to him as Uncle Grayson.
It was only Olivia that he hadn’t warmed up to yet. Maybe it was a conflict of personalities—although she couldn’t see anything about Olivia that would put him off. Everybody loved Olivia. She was a giver. A nurturer. She was always doing something for somebody else. What wasn’t to like?
I may have to have a little talk with Grayson myself, she thought.
She patted Olivia’s leg, amused that she’d wiggled protectively in between her and Jake on the tram that would take them to their beach house. Olivia tightly clutched Ozzie’s leash in her hand, keeping his head closer to herself than to Jake. So far, Ozzie hadn’t tried to take a nip out of anyone, but Olivia wasn’t taking any chances. She’d removed the muzzle once they settled on the ferry—for the twenty minutes it took to travel from Southport to Bald Head Island—but she’d put it on again once they disembarked since they’d be sitting so close together. Unfortunately, Ozzie had to earn Jake and Dusty’s trust again.