Secretly Married

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  “Right.”

  She let go of her hair to slide the thin white strap of her dress back up her shoulder. “Ironic, isn’t it.” Her hair blew from the open window, hiding her expression. “The way you both warn me against the other. You have that very much in common.”

  “Right.” What he and Alonso had in common was Delaney. Period.

  “Anyway, after lunch he went on his way. He’s tutoring Caitlin in math so she’ll be caught up with the senior class when school begins.”

  “What’s he getting in return for that?”

  “She’s helping him with life sciences. She knows an incredible amount about nature. Birds in particular.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  He had a hard time envisioning that. The kid he’d known had never offered anything without getting something in return.

  “You went shopping.”

  “Considering the one outfit I did bring shrunk in the rain? Yes, I went shopping.”

  “Good. Maisy’s got a barbecue going tonight.”

  “Annie mentioned something about it.”

  “She’s expecting me.”

  “Then go.”

  He looked at her.

  “I don’t want to go to a barbecue with you.”

  He shrugged and parked the truck in front of his house. “I’ll call Maisy and tell her I’m staying in. With my wife.” He climbed from the truck and closed the door.

  Delaney’s hand tightened around the plastic bag as she watched Sam head inside the house. What was worse? Attending a barbecue in public, or being alone with Sam?

  Inside her head, her common sense was screaming the answer. For once, she decided to follow it.

  She went inside. Found Sam heading out the rear door to throw out some seed for the birds. “When is it?”

  “Whenever.”

  She counted to ten. “Is there time for me to clean up?”

  His gaze roved over her, seeming to set off a flurry of nerves. “You look pretty clean to me. All that white? Practically…virginal.”

  She gave him a repressive look.

  His mouth kicked up. “There’s time. You got some shorts in that bag? A bathing suit?”

  “Shorts.” The only bathing suit Sophie had that fit her was a minuscule black bikini. Not likely.

  “Wear ’em. We’ll be on the beach.”

  “Any more orders?”

  Amusement drifted into his eyes. “Not at the moment.” Then he went out on the deck. She watched him throw out the seed and lean his arms on the rail as he watched the birds dive.

  Another surreal moment. And realizing that she was staring, she quickly turned away.

  While Sam had said she had time, it seemed all too soon before he was rapping on the bedroom door. “You about ready in there?”

  She glanced at herself in the mirror, curtailing the urge to do something more with her hair. It was a beach barbecue, and she didn’t want Sam thinking that she was going to any particular trouble with her appearance for him.

  She snatched open the door. “Thought there was no hurry.”

  “There isn’t.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. Instead of the khaki uniform shirt and blue jeans, he wore an unbuttoned shirt and long cargo shorts that hung loosely around his hard hips.

  Men half his age should look so good.

  “Here.” He held out his hand.

  A key.

  But he didn’t lock his house.

  “What’s it for?”

  “The golf cart. You didn’t notice it beside the house when we drove up?”

  All she’d been noticing was Sam. But she had no intention of admitting it.

  “It’s for you to use while you’re here.”

  “Everybody pretty much walks on Turnabout.” And her legs had gotten quite the workout that day as a result.

  “Pretty much everybody lives closer to town, not a half-dozen miles out. But if you want to walk, suit yourself. These’ll be more substantial than the flip-flops, though.” He took his other hand from behind his back and handed her a shoebox.

  “What is that?”

  “Well, it ain’t a snake.” He wiggled the box.

  She took it. Flipped off the lid to reveal pristine white tennis shoes. She lifted one out. Triple-A width. Narrow.

  “Sophie didn’t have these.”

  “I ordered them from a store in San Diego. Diego brought ’em by, along with the cart.”

  “Do you think this is going to get you on my good side?”

  “God forbid. Last time we were on each other’s good sides, we eloped to Vegas. Look how that turned out.” His tone was dry as dust, and a bubble of laughter hit her unaware.

  His smile was faint. “Let’s go.”

  She exhaled a little, wondering how she was supposed to get through several more days when the next several minutes seemed a major challenge.

  But he didn’t head to his truck. He headed around the side of the house where a tidy little cart was indeed parked. But when she headed for the passenger side, he nudged her back toward the driver’s side.

  “Whoa, no. No. I don’t want to drive.”

  “How long has it been?”

  Months. Several. Like nearly two years’ worth. “I haven’t—”

  She heard his breath escape. “Jesus, Delaney. You haven’t driven since the accident, have you?”

  She considered denying it. “No.”

  “Are you afraid?” There was nothing challenging or goading in his voice.

  “Answering that would incriminate myself.”

  His expression was still. “You don’t often drive, and two times in your life you’ve survived serious accidents.”

  “Yeah, well, third time might be a charm. Half this island seems like it ends on a cliff.” She wasn’t entirely joking.

  “And the road is well away from any drop-offs. Come on. Driving this little putt-putt is a good way to get back in the saddle. It hardly goes faster than you could ride a bike.”

  “And I haven’t done that in even longer,” she said.

  He simply waited.

  “The sun is going down. It’ll be dark soon.”

  “We’ve got headlights. And I won’t let you run into any potholes.”

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “Get behind the wheel, Delaney. You’ll be fine, and once you get over the hump, you’ll be glad you did.”

  She exhaled noisily but capitulated. “Always giving the orders.”

  He pointed. “Key goes there.”

  “I know that,” she huffed. Of course she hadn’t. She’d never driven a golf cart in her life. She inserted the key.

  “Forward. Reverse.” He gestured. “Two speeds. Stop and go.”

  Her fingers flexed around the rigid rubber-covered steering wheel. It was considerably smaller than the one she remembered from her car.

  “No time like the present,” he prompted when they continued to sit there.

  “Right.” She turned the key. The motor hummed. The cart jerked and lurched when she hit the gas. It tipped wildly when she turned too sharply.

  If he laughed at her, she’d kick him. “This isn’t at all like driving a car.”

  “Pretend you’re at an amusement park in the play motor cars,” he suggested. “Imagine there are rails holding you safely to the center of the road.”

  “I wish.” She pressed the gas too hard again, and the thing shot up over the crest of the road. Sam’s hand smoothly grabbed the steering wheel, and the cart straightened out. “You should drive.”

  “And miss out on a premium-ticket ride like this?” He shook his head. “Nothing doing.” His hand left the steering wheel. “Road curves slightly to the right up ahead.”

  “I see it.” The last vestiges of the setting sun provided a warm, red glow across the road. She followed the curve without mishap. The cart buzzed along, Sam pointing out spots to avoid, just as he’d promised.

  They weren’
t traveling at the speed of light—nor the speed of Sam’s heavy-duty vehicle—but it was quick enough. Once she felt more comfortable at handling the thing, she let herself look beyond the road directly ahead.

  And her foot lifted off the gas as her gaze was caught by the sight of the sunset. The golf cart inched along and drifted to a gentle stop.

  “Good sunset tonight,” he said.

  Good? The sky seemed to drip with every color of the spectrum, and every color reflected back up off the ocean. It was so vivid it was like walking into a painting. “It’s magnificent.” She’d never seen anything like it.

  “Wait until you see the sky when the stars come out. Makes you feel like a tiny speck in the scheme of things, but at the same time feel like you’re woven into the fabric of it all. It’s kind of addictive.”

  She couldn’t even summon a tart comment about Sam waxing philosophical.

  She looked up and found his gaze on her. Not the sunset.

  Addictive, indeed.

  She quickly pushed the gas pedal, and the cart shot down the road. At least she’d forgotten to be nervous about driving. Some part of her mind wondered if he’d done it deliberately for that very purpose.

  Sam pointed out another curve, and they headed down a hill that took them right onto the powdery white sand where a fire burned brightly in a pit. Music was playing from somewhere.

  “Leave the key,” he advised when he stepped away from the cart. “Safer than chancing losing it in the sand.”

  She slid off the seat, tugging at the hem of her shorts and wishing they were longer. There seemed to be just as many people on the narrow beach as there were at Castillo House the night she’d arrived.

  Sam grabbed her hand, pulling her after him.

  She hurriedly slid out of the sandals before she fell flat on her face at his brisk pace. She didn’t know where he was heading, but was glad that he stopped periodically to greet various clusters of people. Delaney saw Maisy Fielding standing close to the fire, tending the meat that sizzled on the grate. She also saw Etta and Janie. Even young April Fielding. She didn’t see Danté.

  Within minutes her calves burned, and the soles of her feet were tender. So much for kickboxing and the treadmill at her gym. Walking barefoot over shifting sand was a workout all on its own.

  Sam’s strong, well-shaped legs had no problem dealing with the exertion, she noticed.

  “Sam.” She finally tugged back on his hand, resisting his forward momentum. “Slow down before I get a Charlie horse.”

  He stopped. “Sorry.”

  She looked around them as she lifted one leg, then the other, trying to stretch out the knots in her calves. Though she’d feared drawing undue attention—she certainly had when she’d walked to town that morning—nobody seemed overly curious now. “Is the entire population of Turnabout down here?”

  “Probably half. Maisy does a barbecue like this a few times every summer. Lot of people. Lot of food. Lot of drink.”

  Delaney straightened. “Are you here as a guest or to keep the peace?”

  “On this rock? I’m never off duty. Come on. The food won’t last forever with this group.”

  She realized there were several long tables set up in the curve of the seawall. She hadn’t noticed them earlier because of the people milling about. “I ate a late lunch, remember?”

  “Right. With Alonso.”

  Her chin lifted. “And Dr. Weathers and the rest of the children there.” It had been noisy and chaotic and quite…wonderful.

  “Suit yourself.” He continued over to the tables, though. Loaded up a plate and grabbed a can of soda from an ice-filled barrel. Then, without paying her any heed, he joined the group closest to the fire.

  The bodies moved, seeming to part and allow him entrance. Sara was part of the group.

  Delaney turned away. She saw Caitlin sitting in a lawn chair down by the water’s edge and headed that way. “How’d the tutoring go?”

  Caitlin shrugged. “Fine. Don’t know what good it’ll do, though.” Her hand smoothed over her protruding belly. “Can’t see going back to school at all, much less while looking like a beached whale.”

  “Sure you can. Got to finish so you can go on to study ornithology, right?”

  Caitlin just shrugged. She rubbed her hand over her belly again. “Have you ever had a baby?”

  Delaney tried not to wince. She shook her head. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “It’s a boy. Dr. Weathers suggested that I start picking out names or something. Like it’d be fun.” Her lips twisted a little.

  “Did you?”

  “Zachary. Zach. It was my dad’s name.” She fingered the hem of her billowing maternity shirt. “He was in the Navy. Died a long time ago on some secret operation. But he knew Logan, I guess.”

  “That’s how you came to live at Castillo House.” Annie had mentioned it. In fact, a lot of the children there seemed to have some sort of connection to Logan. She knew he’d traveled widely, which perhaps explained the diversity among his and Annie’s charges.

  Delaney glanced over to the fire pit. Sam actually had a smile on his face.

  “Yeah. Logan heard about the fire.” Caitlin’s expression was sad. “That’s how they all died. In a fire. Only reason I wasn’t there was ’cause I’d snuck out to meet my—” her voice cut off. She looked beyond Delaney. “Hi, Teddy. Um. This is—”

  “Delaney,” she filled in, smiling at the gangly young man.

  “Teddy Haggerty,” he returned, but his eyes were all for Caitlin. “Here.” He held out a bottle of soda to the girl. “I brought you something to drink.”

  Delaney pushed to her feet. “Think a drink sounds good, myself.”

  “Oh.” Teddy smiled awkwardly. “I can—”

  “No, no. I’ll get it myself.” She smiled at Caitlin and headed back toward the fire pit, veering only long enough to shove her hand into the icy barrel and extract a can of her own.

  Sam had demanded her presence on the island?

  He’d get it.

  She slid into the group, taking a spot across the fire pit from him and Sara, and smiled brightly when his gaze found hers. She popped open her can and lifted it in a silent toast.

  Even in the red-and-orange dance of firelight, she could see the disapproval in his expression, and she realized that her blind grab from the barrel had secured her a can of beer.

  Drink the alcohol. Don’t drink the alcohol. That was the question. If she did, he’d consider it foolhardy. If she didn’t, she’d be admitting the possibility that he was right. She could be pregnant.

  His focus on her was palpable. As real as the reggae music underscored by the murmur of the ocean. As real as the orange sparks dancing off the flames in the fire pit, as the thick bulge of sand pushing up against the soles of her feet and squishing between her toes.

  Pregnancy isn’t entirely impossible.

  She wanted to ignore the little voice inside her head. But she’d learned long ago that wanting and getting were two distinctively different things.

  So she acquiesced to the little voice and exchanged her beer for a sensible bottle of water.

  If anything, Sam’s expression seemed to sharpen when she did so. Or maybe it was her imagination. A trick of the firelight.

  Whatever it was, she felt as if it was burning through the layers of the past, leaving it in ashes.

  She couldn’t tear herself from the web of Sam’s gaze.

  What if she was pregnant?

  Chapter 11

  “Doc!” Alonso jogged over to her. “I’ve been calling you for five minutes. Come on. We’re playing volleyball.”

  She finally dragged her gaze from Sam’s. Alonso was very nearly grinning, and the knot in her nerves loosened a little. “I haven’t played volleyball in years.”

  “So?” He dropped his arm over her shoulder and urged her along the sand. “You can be on the other team.”

  She laughed, feeling a little light-headed. �
��Gee. Thanks.”

  Logan, Dr. Weathers and two girls—ten-year-olds, Mary and Eileen, whom she’d met that afternoon—were on one side of the net. On the other side, Annie held the white ball as she pointed out positions to the three young boys on her team. There was also a tall, good-looking man Delaney didn’t recognize.

  “Come on, Delaney.” Annie waved her over. “We’ve got ’em running.”

  “In your dreams, Annie,” Logan assured. Alonso trotted over to Logan’s side, bending over to hear something Mary said. He nodded, high-fived her and took his spot in the sand.

  Sam hadn’t left the fireside, but he was definitely watching them. She’d ignore him. That was all.

  Right.

  She pushed the bottom of her water bottle in the sand alongside several others and joined Annie’s team. The net had been set up close to the water where the sand was more firmly packed.

  “You’ve met Sam’s brother, right?” Annie tossed the ball to the man.

  Delaney started. Of course. The resemblance was there. But his looks lacked the hard edge that Sam possessed. “Leo?” She smiled awkwardly at the man.

  Leo seemed to feel no such awkwardness. His smile was easy and appealing. “The good-looking brother,” he said. “Glad Sam didn’t scare you off before we met.”

  “Come on, folks,” Logan called out. “Get the ball moving.”

  “Impatient, aren’t you,” Annie retorted.

  “Yeah.” Logan smiled at his wife.

  The younger kids giggled, Logan’s innuendo thankfully slipping over their heads. Leo served the ball and the game was on.

  It was hardly a graceful one. But it was fun and by the time Alonso lifted Mary up on his shoulder to spike the ball over the net for the winning point, Delaney was laughing harder than she had in months.

  Twenty-one, at least.

  She stumbled over to her water bottle and collapsed on the sand, her side aching. She wasn’t the only one who collapsed. Annie plopped down beside her, returning Logan’s and Alonso’s gloating comments with dizzying speed.

  Leo headed to the food and drink, and Dr. Weathers headed off by herself. “She gave us her resignation letter just before we left for the barbecue,” Annie confided quietly. “I was so happy when she agreed to come here, but not everyone takes to living so far from conveniences.”