by Lily Everett
Cooper stared at her, all emotion wiped from his handsome face, and he said nothing. The silence stretched between them, tangible as the whistle of air through an empty canyon, and Vivian’s hopes evaporated under the winter sun.
He was going to leave. Cooper was going to go and do this hate-filled, violent thing, instead of staying here and building a life and a home with Vivian.
“It’s your choice, if you want to go,” she forced out, her tight throat making her voice scratchy and low. “I would never try to take your choices from you. But I have a choice too—and I choose not to be a part of it.”
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked up the steps and into the house he’d given her, leaving Cooper standing outside in the cold.
Vivian couldn’t bear to watch him walk out of her life, and know she’d lost him for the second time. But she heard the distinctive roar of his Ferrari’s engine growing fainter through the trees, and she sank down onto her threadbare sofa and wept.
A long, cold night and lonely morning later, Vivian had to face the truth. Cooper was gone. No doubt halfway around the world by now, and when … if he came back, she didn’t know what that would mean for their relationship. Did they even have a relationship at this point? She’d called him the love of her life, but he hadn’t said “I love you” in return.
Instead of torturing herself with doubts and worries, Vivian hauled herself out of bed and put on her work clothes. She might as well get the porch stripped of paint. That would be a better use of her time than sitting around feeling sorry for herself. She was sick of self-pity.
But it was hard not to feel sad when she pushed aside the plastic they’d covered the front door opening with to keep the heat inside. It was hard not to mourn for what might have been as she trooped outside and saw the half-stripped front door lying abandoned on the sawhorses.
Vivian gave herself a moment to bite her lip and remember the companionable contentment of working alongside Cooper, turning this house into a home through the sweat of their brows and the blisters on their hands. Then she pulled up her socks and switched gears. Getting the door repainted and reattached to the house was a higher priority than the porch railing.
She worked feverishly for a while, and the hard, physical labor helped to blank her mind and calm her mood. Underneath the surface calm, a deep well of sadness lingered—but Vivian found she could ignore the urge to dive into it, so long as she kept herself busy.
So she got the door stripped in record time, sanding down any rough patches and buffing away the dents and scuff marks of years of hard use. It was almost therapeutic, she reflected as she smoothed her palms over the clean, bright wood. A little love and attention, and this door was like new again—but even better than new, with the weathered patina of experience.
I want to be like that, Vivian reflected. I want to shed the rough, ugly scars of the past and let my experiences give me a glow.
With Cooper, she’d begun to believe in the possibility. And standing on the shore of Lantern Lake in the sparkling cold of a frosty winter morning, Vivian realized she still felt it. Even if Cooper never came back, she would be okay. Would she be as happy as she could be with him? No. But she’d survive, and even find contentment and peace.
For a woman who’d spent years defining herself as part of a couple—one deliriously happy and one the exact opposite—it was a revelation.
Taking a break between sanding and carting out the paintbrushes and cans, Vivian turned on her phone. She wanted to call the title company back and get the ball rolling on transferring the property back to Cooper’s name.
But before she could find the number for the title company, Vivian’s eye caught on an email from a Janine Turner. Was that the name of the woman who’d helped them with the property paperwork? Vivian clicked into it and felt equal parts of confusion and joy expand her lungs like a pair of helium balloons.
She was so engrossed in puzzling out the meaning behind the title rep’s email, she didn’t register the growl of a fine-tuned Italian sports car engine until it was almost on top of her.
Phone in hand, Vivian whirled to see Cooper unfolding his tall, broad-shouldered body from the driver’s seat. He looked rough, a scruffy growth of beard darkening his jaw and purple bruises under his eyes telling of a sleepless night—but he was still just about the most welcome sight Vivian could imagine.
“You didn’t leave,” she said, immediately wanting to smack her own forehead. “I mean, obviously. You did leave the house, but not the island. Or the country. Or—can you help me out here, please?”
Cooper came around the front of the car, but kept his distance, as if he wasn’t sure of his reception. He smiled slightly. “When I left here yesterday, I intended to fly out immediately. I wanted to round up the posse and ride out after justice—but when I went to ask Miles if I could borrow his helicopter, it hit me.”
“What?” Vivian held her breath.
Palming the back of his neck, the way he did when he felt uncomfortable, Cooper shot her a sheepish look from under his brows. “I was planning to ask to borrow the helicopter—which meant on some level, I’d already admitted that I’d lost that bet, or else I’d be on my way there to take possession of my helicopter.”
Vivian felt more at sea than ever. What did this have to do with anything? “The bet?”
He stuck his hands in the pockets of his rugged canvas jacket. “Miles bet me that if I came to Sanctuary Island, I’d fall in love before he ever said ‘I do.’ And he was right.”
Heart in her throat, Vivian swayed closer to him. “Oh?”
Cooper nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off her. “The first moment I saw you again, walking down that aisle toward me like a fantasy I thought I’d given up on, it all came rushing back. Hell, maybe it was there all along, buried under layers of hurt and resentment. But Miles was right. I love you, Vivian Banks. I loved you when we were dumb kids, and I love you even more now that we’ve found each other again as adults. I even loved you when I hated you. You’re it for me—and you’re all I need.”
With a glad, inarticulate cry, Vivian dropped her phone and ran to him. Cooper swept her up in his strong arms, spinning them around in the sunshine. Laughing and crying, and kissing him through both, Vivian managed to mutter, “I love you, too. What took you so long?”
“I had a few things to arrange.” He let her slide down his body until her shoes crunched into the frosty leaves and grass. “And no, not one of those things was a sudden trip overseas to play vigilante.”
“Good,” Vivian said fervently, tightening her arms around his lean, hard-muscled waist. “Thank you.”
Cooper grimaced. “A long night of driving around this island made me realize I’ve got some stuff to work through. Like my tendency to want revenge for the past instead of letting myself enjoy the present and plan for the future. In this case, I was partly so fired up about getting back at your ex because … well, originally, I planned to punish you instead. I was going to sleep with you and then walk away—but that backfired when you opened your arms and let me go … and I discovered I wasn’t ready to leave. And then when I found out what happened to you while we were apart, well. I have some guilt to work through about not finding you and helping you, and that might have played a part in my revenge fantasy, too. Like I could make up for not being there for you back then.”
“You can make up for it by being with me now,” Vivian said urgently. “Cooper, that’s all I want. For us to be together. Everything else will work itself out.”
Love and desire warmed Cooper’s hazel eyes in the instant before he covered her mouth with his for a deep, searching kiss that only ended when a distant buzzing filtered through Vivian’s hazed brain.
Sucking in oxygen, she turned her head in search of the source of the odd noise. A few paces away, her phone lay vibrating amongst the fallen leaves. And that reminded her of the odd email she’d received right before Cooper showed up.
“Speaking
of working things out,” he said, a mischievous grin curling his lips. “I told Janine to call this morning to finalize the paperwork.”
Vivian scooped up her phone, and sure enough, it was the title company. “That poor woman. We must be running her ragged.”
Arching a brow, Cooper tilted his head. “We don’t have to make the change. I’m fine with things as they are.”
In answer, Vivian hit the ‘talk’ button, her eyes never leaving Cooper’s. “Hi, Janine? So sorry for all the confusion. Yes, I want to transfer ownership of the Lantern Lake house into both our names. Cooper Hayes and Vivian Banks. Together. Final answer. Thanks.”
She hung up, blood bursting with joy. The possessive edge to Cooper’s jaw and the soft tenderness in his gaze both combined to steal her breath. “It’s a big step,” she said huskily. “Owning property together. A lot of responsibility.”
“We can handle it,” Cooper said confidently, wrapping his arms around her from behind and turning them so they both could gaze up at the ramshackle, partially renovated cabin. “We’re all grown up now, we know how to see something through.”
The enormity of what they were doing hit Vivian suddenly, sending a wave of fear through her. “And you won’t miss roving all over the world, footloose and fancy free?”
She felt his big chest move as he shrugged. “We can still travel. There are lots of places I want to kiss you—the top of the Eiffel Tower, in the shadow of the Parthenon, under an arch at the Alhambra … the list goes on and on. And when we’re done making out around the globe, we’ll come back home.”
“Home,” Vivian echoed, perfectly content in the circle of Cooper’s arms, with the whole world at their feet and the promise of many happy years to come.
The future had never looked so wonderful.
Epilogue
A year and a half later.…
Miles Harrington stood up and tapped his wood-handled knife against his Mason jar of champagne. Up and down the rough-hewn picnic tables laden with wedding cake and hurricane lamps, the guests quieted. Their happy faces turned toward the best man expectantly.
“Good evening, everyone—and what a glorious evening it is, here at the edge of Lantern Lake.” Miles nodded toward the mirrored surface of the water, lit by floating paper lanterns. All was serene and calm on this warm June night, the fresh island air broken only by the sounds of laughter and the clink of glasses.
“If you don’t know who I am … well.” Miles paused, smiling slightly. “If you don’t know who I am, you probably don’t belong at this wedding.”
“Because only a wedding crasher wouldn’t recognize the great Miles Harrington!” Zane Bishop heckled from further down the table where the wedding party sat.
Miles sent him a mock-stern glare. “As an old family friend of both the bride and the groom,” he said repressively, “I’m relatively certain I know every single one of you out there. Some of you, ahem, Zane, I know things about that you might prefer to keep private, so perhaps you should shut your mouth for the rest of this toast.”
“Please, you think this man has any secrets?” Zane’s wife, Felicity, shook her head in fond exasperation, and distracted her husband with a kiss when he would have responded. Zane subsided good-naturedly, waving over his shoulder for Miles to carry on. At only four months since their wedding, they still definitely qualified as newlyweds. With his black bow tie undone and hanging around the open neck of his tuxedo shirt, Zane looked as disreputable as ever—but there was something settled and happy about him now that hadn’t been there before Felicity came into his life.
Miles decided to cut him some slack. “As I was saying, I know all of you. And I know you all join me in wishing the happy couple well. Leo summed it up best in the poem he wrote for the occasion. I won’t attempt to outdo his eloquence.”
The auburn-haired lord dipped his chin modestly, his other arm firmly around the shoulders of his bespectacled, and very proud, fiancée. “You’re doing fine, old thing,” Leo called with a smile bright enough to outshine the strands of round bulbs strung overhead.
Miles toasted him briefly before turning to gaze down at the happy couple seated to his left. “To Cooper and Vivian,” he said, his voice ringing out over the water. “Together, the way they should have been all along—but even better, I believe, for having spent those years apart.”
He studied the way Vivian melted into her newly minted husband’s side, independent enough to be comfortable leaning on him. And he saw how still Cooper went every time he met his wife’s happy smile. The wanderer had found his true home at last.
And that’s what Miles wanted to talk about, after all. “As I look around this beautiful place, the hidden lake and the cabin Cooper and Vivian poured hours of work and their whole hearts into so that they could be married on its front porch … what I really want to toast is Sanctuary Island.”
A murmur of appreciation swept through the crowd like a warm breeze. Smiles were shared and hands were clasped as every person there acknowledged how lucky they were to live in such a special place.
“Almost two years ago,” Miles continued. “I met the love of my life here.”
He looked down at the woman seated beside him, his throat going warm and tight with emotion. Greta pursed her lips at him, her cheeks pink with a healthy glow … and probably a bit of embarrassment at all the eyes on them. But Miles couldn’t help it. He’d built his family company into a multi-billion dollar international corporation—but there was nothing he’d done in his whole life that made him prouder than being Greta’s husband.
Scooping up her hand, Miles brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss before facing the crowd once more. “Six months later, I made her mine. And I also made a bet with the groom, and my fellow groomsmen … I bet that if they spent a few weeks on Sanctuary Island, they would find their lives changed forever, for the better. I don’t want to stand up here and take credit for the incredible happiness of my friends—wait. Yes, I do.”
Everyone laughed and a few people shouted, “Hear, hear!” while Zane balled up his napkin and tossed it at Miles’s head. Smoothly ducking the flying linen, Miles raised his glass. “But I can’t take all the credit. Most of it goes to Cooper and Vivian, for finding their way back to one another and being smart enough—and brave enough—to take their second chance and make the most of it. The rest of the credit goes to Sanctuary Island itself. This place taught me and my friends to believe in love. To believe in our ability to woo and win the women of our dreams. To believe in happily ever after.”
“To Sanctuary Island!” the crowd cried, applauding and cheering and toasting the moment with deliciously crisp sparkling wine from a nearby Virginia vineyard. Cooper stood to shake Miles’s hand, but Miles used the grip to drag him into a hug.
“I’ve never been so happy to lose a bet in my life,” Cooper said, as he drew back to pull Vivian to her feet. She was radiant in the ivory silk dress Felicity had talked her into wearing. The simple, clean lines suited her far better than the sumptuous frills of the ball gown she’d worn at her first wedding.
“I’ve never enjoyed winning more,” Miles replied, with a sharkish grin. “And I’m very accustomed to winning.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, Vivian leaned up to whisper in his ear. “You can joke all you want, but you are a big part of the reason tonight is happening. And I’ll never forget it.”
Miles cleared his throat and set one of his oldest friends back on her heels. “It was my honor and my privilege. Our families have known each other a long time.”
Internally, he winced at the mention of Vivian’s reprehensible parents. Should he say he was sorry they couldn’t be there to witness their daughter’s happiness? Not that they deserved to be there, or would appreciate it the way they should.
But Vivian’s bright indigo gaze never dimmed. “Family is what we make it. I know that now. Cooper is my family, and so are you. And I know we’ll continue to be close for years and years to come.”
>
The band struck up the opening notes of “At Last My Love Has Come Along,” and Vivian slipped away for her first dance as the wife of the man she’d loved for so long. Miles watched the way Cooper whirled her around the floor, effortless and slow, their gazes catching and clinging in a moment so intense and private, Miles had to look away.
His own eyes found his beautiful wife regarding him with a mixture of joy and understanding that took his breath away. “How’s Rosie?” he asked, his heart quickening at the thought of their baby daughter.
Greta snagged her phone off the table and showed him a picture. “Sleeping peacefully, as of five minutes ago. Lavonne said she missed us at bed time, but she settled for an extra read through of In the Night Kitchen.”
Miles had to laugh at the image of his tiny daughter honing her negotiating skills on her babysitter. They’d hired his assistant, Cleo’s daughter, to travel with them to Sanctuary Island for the wedding, knowing they wouldn’t be able to fulfill their wedding party duties and take care of an energetic fourteen-month-old girl. Lavonne was as terrifyingly competent as her mother. Miles knew Rose was in good hands, and he’d looked forward to a night out with his gorgeous Greta—but he hadn’t counted on how much he’d miss their nightly ritual of bath time, followed by story time and snuggle time.
“And how are you?” he asked his wife, leaning in to brush a kiss at her hairline while she absently scrolled through a few more pictures of their daughter.
“Happy,” Greta said, putting the phone down and smiling up at him in the way that never failed to send his blood racing. “Happy for Cooper and Viv, happy to be here for them, happy to be here in general. Just happy.”
After surviving a life-threatening childhood illness, Greta had steeped herself in gratitude for every moment of the life she felt lucky to still be living. Being with her had given Miles a new appreciation for life’s many joys, from the huge and all-encompassing like the arrival of their precious Rosie, to the tiny and mundane. Like a dance by a lake on a starlit night.