by V. K. Sykes
Ryan took another bite and shook his head. “Hard to believe anything could be better than this.”
“Thanks. There are plenty more where it came from. As long as you keep working, Sabrina and I will keep you well supplied.” Morgan winked at him. “God knows you don’t have to worry about putting on weight.”
She tried to inject a light note into her voice, but talking about her mom always brought out the heartache, especially when she was back in Seashell Bay. Every single thing on the island seemed to evoke the memory of her parents, reminding her of how desperately she missed them. Though she’d been teaching on the mainland for years, she’d always come home at least once or twice a month and had spent all summer in Seashell Bay. In some ways, she felt like she’d never really left home.
Ryan’s expression grew serious. “It must be hard. I mean, not just coping with the B&B but with losing your parents like that.”
Morgan’s throat went tight, but she powered through it. “I see Dad everywhere. Like, he’d sit on this patio for hours on end talking to guests. He’d tell them stories about the island—half of them made up or exaggerated—and he’d ask them questions about where they were from, what they liked, and what he could do to make their stay more enjoyable. You should take a look at the comments in the guest book, Ryan. People just loved Dad.”
Some days, the old place felt so empty without him.
“When I was in Afghanistan, I thought a lot about kids who lose their parents,” Ryan said.
Surprised, Morgan waited for him to elaborate.
“You couldn’t walk ten feet there without seeing a homeless, orphaned kid sleeping on the street, a lot of them maimed by land mines.” Ryan’s fingers whitened as he gripped his glass hard. “Once you’ve seen it, it keeps eating away at you, even when you’re no longer in country. I give money to the Afghan Women’s Mission, but that seems kind of feeble. I wish I could do more.”
Though Morgan didn’t really think of herself as an orphan, she was, of course. That had obviously tapped into Ryan’s somber memories.
“It’s not feeble at all,” she said. “It’s wonderful. I’ll Google that charity this afternoon and make a donation too.”
His appreciative smile lit up her insides.
“That would be great. You don’t need to give a lot—even ten bucks makes a difference.” Ryan pushed himself up out of the chair. “But now I’d better get back to work if I want to have any hope of getting in some kayaking. And thanks for taking such good care of me, Morgan. I appreciate it.”
She shook her head as she rose. “Don’t be silly. You’re the one taking care of us. Any little thing I do for you is nothing compared to what you’re doing for Sabrina and me.” Instinctively, she reached out to rest a hand on his muscled bicep. But she snatched it away an instant later, blushing at the feel of his warm, naked skin under her fingers.
Or, more truthfully, how much she wanted more of that warm, naked skin under her fingers.
Chapter 6
Ryan unhooked the bungee cords that secured his ocean kayak and lifted the fifty-five-pound Tetra 12, propping it against the side of his truck. He reached back into the truck bed for the bag of aluminum brackets and wood screws he’d bought to repair the loose drainpipe.
From the back of the B&B’s parking lot, he could see the section of the roof he’d repaired. It was a solid job that would keep the rain on the outside where it belonged, and Morgan had seemed genuinely pleased with the result. Unfortunately, when Ryan again made the point that the whole roof needed to be replaced soon, her lush mouth had flattened into a straight line and her shoulders had hiked up to her ears. Without a complete reroofing, he feared the leak he’d just fixed would be followed by many more.
He was surprised to find himself worrying about that. It had only been a few days and already he was starting to feel a sense of responsibility toward Morgan, Sabrina, and their white elephant of an inn.
He shook off that vaguely alarming sensation and focused on the options for late afternoon kayaking. The best at this hour seemed to be Cliff Island. He figured he could do that return trip in a little over two hours given the favorable weather and sea conditions. He took the brackets into the kitchen, figuring Morgan would probably be there. She’d invited him to eat with them tonight, sharing a meal of homemade spinach and cheese ravioli, and Ryan was totally down with that. By the time he got back from kayaking, he’d be ready to enjoy every scrap of food that came anywhere near him.
He knew he’d enjoy spending more time with Morgan too, and that left him feeling a bit conflicted.
The annex’s screen door swung open and she stepped out, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her long apron. Ryan couldn’t recall ever thinking a woman wearing an apron looked sexy, but Morgan did. Her sweet curves filled it out so well.
Her eyes, clear and blue as a summer sky over the island, latched onto him, seeming to stick on the board shorts that rode low on his hips. Then she slid her gaze past him to the kayak.
“Nice kayak. I love that deep shade of yellow.” Her voice sounded a little breathy.
“Thanks. The color was definitely what did it for me too,” he said, unable to stifle a little sarcasm at her girlie comments.
Morgan didn’t seem to hear the dig, apparently more interested in his bare chest than his words.
“Uh, aren’t you going to wear a shirt?” she said. “You know it’ll be a lot cooler out on the water.”
Nice try, babe. He tried not to grin. Morgan had been ogling him pretty much all day, on the roof and at ground level. “I stowed a T-shirt in the hatch just in case.”
“Oh, good.” She wiped her hands on her apron again, even though most of the flour was gone. “I’ve never done any kayaking, but I always thought it looked like fun. I should take lessons before trying it though, right?”
Her hesitant smile made Ryan wonder if she wanted him to give her a lesson but was too shy to ask. He could let her use his dad’s solo kayak, and he could drill her on how to get back into it if she capsized. Ryan had to admit he’d welcome the chance to see her in a thoroughly soaked shirt, even if it was under the safety vest he’d insist she wear. “Definitely. Just getting into the thing can be tricky unless you know what you’re doing.”
“Then I guess I’d need a good teacher.” Now her smile was teasing. “Know where I might find one?”
Before he could answer with a quip of his own, the loud, buzzing whine of a motor interrupted them. Only one golf cart on the island made a sound like that. Then again, only one golf cart on the island had the raw power of Roy Mayo’s modified engine. “There goes Roy.”
“No, here comes Roy, and Miss Annie too. They’re just turning into the driveway.”
He sighed. “Damn. I guess it’s time for my annual lecture from Miss Annie. Too bad I didn’t get onto the water five minutes ago.”
Morgan poked him on the arm. “Be nice. You know Miss Annie just wants all us wayward kids to return to our island roots. I think I’ve had that lecture from her approximately a hundred and seven times at last count.”
Ryan laughed as Roy swerved to a stop beside his truck. The cart’s wheels threw up enough gravel dust that he and Morgan both took a few steps back.
“The old boy’s still got it,” Ryan said in a dry voice.
Roy, a ninety-plus-year-old widower, had shacked up a few years ago with the widowed Annie Letellier, Lily’s grandmother. Miss Annie and Roy were the happiest clams at the shore despite their constant public bickering, and everyone adored them. Fiercely independent, proud, and loyal, Roy and Annie were as decent as two human beings could be and as quirky and unique as Seashell Bay.
Despite Miss Annie’s good-natured nagging, Ryan always looked forward to seeing her and Rocket Roy.
Miss Annie eyeballed Ryan as she got out of the cart. “Well, look at what the cat just dragged in. Don’t you own a shirt, Ryan Butler? We don’t see you for a year, and then you show up looking like some hippie surfer who took a w
rong turn on the way to California.”
Despite her ball busting, Miss Annie smiled, opening her arms wide for a hug. “Come here, you rascal. Your mama and daddy must be so happy to see you. And I hear you might be staying all summer.”
There were no secrets in Seashell Bay, especially not from Miss Annie. She knew everything within minutes of it happening. The feisty old gal was like a satellite dish, gathering and focusing signals from every corner of the island and beyond. When Ryan was growing up, the kids used to call her Sherlock Holmes because she could sniff out any and all of their misdeeds.
“Could be, ma’am,” he said. “My plans are pretty open at the moment.”
“From what I hear, Morgan is going to be keeping you plenty busy.” She tilted her head to inspect Morgan. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
Morgan’s toothy grin gave nothing away. “Oh, there’s plenty to do around here, that’s for sure. And Ryan is being very kind to help us out.”
“What all are you folks doin’ round here anyway?” Roy said, his thumbs hooked into his wide belt like a Wild West lawman. The old guy was tall and rangy, so he managed to pull it off. “Maybe I could give you a hand with something. God knows it’s good to get out of the house for a while.” He pointedly rolled his eyes at Miss Annie, even though he was smiling.
“Just a bunch of little stuff,” Ryan said. “Though I’ve been telling Morgan that she needs to get that old roof seen to sooner rather than later.” He glanced up. “The shingles are at the end of their life span.”
As the four of them gazed at the B&B’s roofline, a car pulled into the driveway. Ryan turned around to see a red Jeep parking next to the golf cart. It was Lily’s ride, but Aiden was at the wheel.
“Hey, how come nobody told me about the party?” Aiden said as he climbed out and strode over to join them. He exchanged quick hugs with Miss Annie and Morgan and then shook hands with Roy and Ryan. “Good to have you back, Ryan, though you might have let me know you were coming.”
Ryan shrugged, feeling a bit guilty. “It was kind of a last-minute decision.”
Aiden made a scoffing noise that told Ryan what he thought about that lame excuse, but his friend obviously decided to let it go.
“You look good,” Ryan said. “Retirement must be treating you right.”
After suffering a number of injuries, Aiden had retired as a pro baseball player last fall in order to coach a local university team. He initially hadn’t been happy about taking early retirement, but it seemed to have worked out just fine.
Aiden grinned. “Retirement? I’ve never been so busy in my life.”
“The boy’s become a real entrepreneur,” Roy said, pronouncing the last syllable noo-er.
Aiden glanced at the hardware in Ryan’s hands. “So, I guess Morgan didn’t waste any time putting you to work.”
It seemed the entire island knew what Ryan was doing. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. If his mother hadn’t blabbed about it, Miss Annie would have seen to it that just about everybody else on the island was up-to-date on his movements. That was just the way she rolled.
Ryan briefly recapped the situation with the roof, which had Morgan breathing out a weary sigh.
Aiden gave her a sympathetic grimace. “I have to admit I’ve been thinking the same thing, Morgan,” he said. Then he turned to Ryan. “If you were up for it, man, you and I could do something about that roof. You’re good at construction, and I just finished helping build my father’s new house.”
Roy snorted. “Yeah, and we finally got that old geezer out of our place, thank the good Lord.”
Aiden’s father, Sean Flynn, had been staying with Miss Annie and Roy while he worked on staying off the booze and getting his life back on track. It had been a hard slog, according to Aiden, but the entire island had come together to help Sean deal with the fallout of a lifetime of alcohol abuse and depression. They’d been there for Bram, Aiden’s recovering alcoholic brother, too.
Miss Annie poked Roy in the ribs. “Stop your nonsense, Roy. You and Sean got along together like biscuits and gravy. Lily called it a bromance, didn’t she, Morgan?”
Morgan laughed, but then her expression turned serious. “Aiden, that’s really sweet of you, but you’re so busy. And you’re still working on your family home.”
“I’ve got some free time now. I have to wait for Brendan to do some finishing work before we can install the rest of the flooring.” He glanced at Ryan. “Look, you and I could strip and reshingle that roof pretty fast. And if we need another hand, I’m sure we could recruit Brett or Josh or Micah.”
“Hell, what about me?” Roy protested. “I can help too. It wouldn’t be my first time on the dance floor when it comes to swapping out a roof, let me tell you.”
Miss Annie looked horrified. “You old coot, have you completely lost your marbles? You’re ninety-one years old, for goodness’ sake, and you are not going to be fooling around on that steep roof. Not if you want to still be puttin’ your boots under my bed. You can kiss that good-bye, Charlie Brown.”
Ryan mentally winced. No way he wanted to envision Roy and Miss Annie doing the nasty, and the slightly appalled look on Aiden’s face suggested the same reaction. Morgan, however, was obviously trying not to laugh.
Roy shot Miss Annie a lethal glare. “Shee-it, woman. Didn’t I do some work on the roof at Sean’s new place with this guy?” He jerked a gnarly thumb at Aiden. “Did I break my neck then? Well, did I?”
“No, praise be to God,” Miss Annie said. “But that was a one-story cottage, not this . . . this skyscraper. You’re too old for such foolishness, Roy Mayo. I’ve been widowed once, and I don’t mean to go through it a second time. And certainly not for the likes of you.”
Roy’s weathered face wrinkled up even more. “Widowed a second time? Was I in a coma or something when we got hitched? I seem to have missed it.”
Morgan jumped in before Miss Annie could sock him. “That’s incredibly kind of you to offer, Aiden, and you too, Roy. I’m touched, but I’m not sure I could afford the materials right now even if you guys did all the work yourselves.” Her expression told Ryan how much it cost her pride to admit that.
Aiden crossed his arms, looking stubborn. “Morgan, Ryan’s absolutely right. As for the money, I’ll loan you what you need. You really do have to deal with that roof before your business floats away in a flood.”
Morgan’s shoulders started to hike back up around her ears. Though Ryan didn’t like that they’d put her in an obviously uncomfortable spot, he agreed it was too important to back off. Aiden had come up with a workable solution to the problem, and Ryan had no intention of letting it slip away.
“Same goes for me, Morgan,” he said. “Aiden and I will cover the cost of the materials, and we’ll do the work ourselves. And if Roy wants to help, I’m sure we can find plenty of work for him to do down here at sea level.”
“Oh, sure. Treat me like I’m some crapped-out old invalid,” Roy groused.
Ryan ignored him, zeroing in on Morgan because she seemed to be wavering, her eyes flicking between him and Aiden. “Let us help you, okay?” he said gently. “Isn’t that what neighbors always do for each other around here?”
That little nugget might sound presumptuous coming from a guy who hardly ever set foot on the island, but that truly was how things worked in Seashell Bay. He sometimes tended to forget that.
“Besides,” he added, going for a lighter note, “if you say no, all your nosy neighbors like Miss Annie and Lily will get on your case until you do say yes. They’d drive you nuts.”
Miss Annie shot him the obligatory scowl before grasping Morgan’s hands. “I would never do that, dear, but these boys won’t give you a moment’s peace. I guarantee it.” She flicked a warning glance around their little circle. “Really, have you ever met three more stubborn men in your life?”
Aiden’s eyes were glinting with laughter. “It’s true, Morgan. We’ll just keep bugging you until you give in.”<
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Morgan managed a small laugh as she threw up her hands. “Well, stubborn, maybe, but I don’t think I’ve ever met three nicer men either. All right, gentlemen, I humbly accept your gracious offer.”
Ryan slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a quick squeeze. Helping her out was definitely the right thing to do.
It surprised the hell out of him how good that made him feel—almost as good as her sweet body tucked under his arm.
Morgan almost passed out when Ryan slipped his arm around her waist, especially since he did it in front of other people. It almost felt as if he was staking a claim, and that made her face heat with a no doubt bright red, totally embarrassing blush that could probably light up half of Seashell Bay in a blackout.
When he let her go, she forced herself to shrug off her crazy emotional reaction and focus on the plan to fix Golden Sunset’s roof. When it came down to it, how could she afford to say no? Still, accepting the generous offer went against the grain. Ryan had nailed it when he said that neighbors helped neighbors in Seashell Bay, but she loathed the idea that people might think of her as a charity case.
Morgan had always fought for financial independence. She’d been self-sufficient since she was old enough to hold down a summer job, so flirting with financial calamity scared the hell out of her. So did being in debt to people who wanted to help her, even people who were friends.
But given the situation and her responsibilities to Sabrina, she simply couldn’t say no, at least not right now. All she could do was make a solemn, silent vow to pay back every cent, even if Golden Sunset didn’t survive. It would take a while, especially if she had to drag her sister back to Pickle River and support her there, but she’d do it.
When Ryan waved a hand in front of her face, she realized she’d missed the last several moments of the conversation.
“Well, how about it, Morgan?” he asked. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”