In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel

by Terri Osburn

Lauren took his hand and set the mug on the table before rising to her feet. She followed him into the bedroom and slid in under the blankets as he held them up for her. Nick crawled in beside her and she curled against his side with her head on his shoulder. After kissing the top of her head, he pulled her tight against him.

  If this was all she could give, then he’d take it.

  18

  The pounding in Lauren’s head dragged her out of the darkness. Slowly easing her eyes open, she saw a blue glow coming from her left. She struggled to figure out where she was when something moved beside her. Sharp bristles brushed her shoulder as warm breath blew across her neck.

  Her eyes snapped shut as snippets of memories flickered through her mind. With as little movement as possible, she patted her chest and then below her waist to find she was completely dressed. Oh, thank goodness. Breathing once more, she felt her stomach roll and pressed a hand against her mouth.

  Desperate, she edged to the right and set one foot on the floor, then the other before letting her bottom slide off the mattress. Once free, she hopped up and tip-toed as fast as she could to reach the bathroom. Turning the knob, she shut the door as quietly as possible mere seconds before emptying her stomach into the toilet. Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she’d vomited, and she had never tried to do so without making any noise.

  Once the retching stopped, she sat down with her back to the cold tub and wiped her mouth with a handful of toilet paper. Taking slow, steady breaths, she listened for any movement on the other side of the door but heard nothing. Shoulders drooping with relief, she stayed on the floor until certain she could move without getting sick again.

  Palms pressed to the cold tile, she tried to remember what led her to this point. There’d been the trip to O’Hagan’s. Lots of mojitos. A couple baskets of nachos, which explained the taste of sour salsa in her mouth. Her next memory was Axel driving her home. He’d asked which house was hers and she’d told him. The fourth house on the right.

  “Shit,” she mumbled, leaning her head back on the side of the tub. The fourth house was Nick’s. Hers was four beyond that.

  She remembered arguing with Nick, though the details were faint. Then he’d carried her inside. The memory of being tossed over his shoulder made her nauseated and she deepened her breathing. Once the feeling passed, she tried to remember how they got to the bedroom. There were pain pills. A cup of coffee. And Nick asking her to come to bed.

  She couldn’t remember anything else. Pulling up her knees, Lauren rested her forehead between them and closed her eyes. Concentrating, she saw Nick in the kitchen making coffee. Then he was on the couch, looking at her with sleepy brown eyes and saying, “…all I can think about is when I’ll see you again.”

  For so long Lauren had wanted to hear those words, yet they filled her with fear. The thought of leaving made her chest hurt, but staying would be the same as putting a loaded gun in Nick’s hand. Leaving meant safety. Staying meant eventual heartbreak. Something she’d watched play out over and over and always with the same result.

  Lifting herself off the floor, she locked her jaw and felt around for the sink. Turning the faucet on just enough to fill her hand, she rinsed out her mouth, then used her sleeve to dry off. Easing the door open, Lauren crept around the bed. The digital clock—the source of the blue glow—told her it was nearly four. Stopping at the door, she took one more look at the man who had become far too important in her life.

  For a brief moment, she considered returning to the bed, but her mother’s voice filled her ears again.

  Men will hurt you every time, baby. Don’t give ’em the chance.

  The scene went blurry as tears filled her eyes, and Lauren walked away. Between the bedroom and the door she found her shoes, but she didn’t put them on until she reached the porch. An owl’s cry echoed in the distance as she made the short walk, and Lauren wondered if there might be another cottage available in the village. Saying she wanted to be closer to the restaurant would be a plausible excuse for the move. Not that she could put much distance between herself and Nick on such a small island, but any amount would be better than where she was now.

  Once home, she locked the door, pressed her back against it, and slid to the floor. Sobs rocked her body and she let the tears fall. There was no reason to hold back now. No need to be quiet or hide the pain. In the morning, she would start over. She would rebuild the walls that Nick had so easily broken through.

  Tonight, she just wanted to cry.

  Ten days and he’d kept his promise. Lauren’s absence that next morning, followed by total silence after, sent the message loud and clear.

  She was done.

  Nick made no attempts to see or message her, and other than the few times he’d been outside when she’d passed by his house, their paths hadn’t crossed. After the first few days, he’d come up with a theory just to save his own sanity and to keep him from doing anything stupid. The whole thing had been a matter of circumstance and bad timing.

  Lauren walked into his life at a moment when Nick had gone from fearing death to envisioning a long future and all the possibilities that entailed. Like a dying man searching for water, she’d been his oasis. An illusion that could never be real. Lucky for them both, she’d suffered no such illusions.

  “There you are.” The voice startled Nick from his thoughts. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

  To avoid temptation, he’d begun leaving his phone in another room whenever possible. Today he’d come outside without it.

  “I didn’t want to be bothered,” he lied. “What’s going on?”

  Mia shrugged and sat down beside him. “Nothing specific. I just wanted to check on you.”

  Who was the older sibling again? “Check on me?”

  She stared out over the ocean. “Mostly. I know something was going on between you and Lauren Riley, and whatever it was didn’t end well.” Blocking the sun with her hand, she turned his way. “Are you okay?”

  Kicking a bit of sand with his shoe, he said, “You know me. I never get serious.”

  “You were this time,” Mia countered. “I saw it the night of the dinner. The look on your face when you came back to the table said things had gotten really serious.”

  “Only for one of us,” Nick replied. Changing the subject, he said, “Did you know about these uncles we have? The ones in their seventies and eighties?”

  Her gaze returned to the water. “Not until Grandma and I went through the pictures for the photo albums. Why?”

  “I was surprised. This is family we knew nothing about.”

  Mia sat up in her chair. “That’s why you got serious with Lauren. Because you finally realized you aren’t going to die young.”

  His sister was too damn quick. “I could still get hit by a bus tomorrow, but yes, I’m considering new possibilities.”

  “There aren’t any buses on Anchor Island,” she reminded him. “Now I wish I’d made those photo albums years ago.”

  In a moment of raw honesty, he said, “I wish you had, too.”

  Not that there was anyone in his past that he’d consider the one that got away. Unless he counted the recent past.

  “So what happened?” she asked.

  Nick watched a seagull sail over the waves and thought how simple the bird’s life must be.

  “We went into it with clear boundaries from the start. Nothing serious. Then I changed the rules and asked for more, but she wasn’t interested.”

  “Then she’s an idiot,” Mia snapped in a show of sibling loyalty. “You’re the most caring man she’s ever going to meet. You can cook circles around anyone, though I suppose in her case that isn’t a bonus. And you’re also hot, or so nearly every single female on this island—and a few not-so-single—have pointed out as if I want to hear this about my own brother.”

  Amused, he said, “I’ll take names if you want to share.”

  “Not a chance. So what’s her problem?”

  Answering t
hat question would reveal more than Lauren would likely appreciate, so he simply said, “She didn’t feel the same. It happens. How about you?”

  Dark hair blew across her face and she swiped it away. “How about me what?”

  “I shared my story. Now it’s your turn. What’s going on between you and Henri?”

  Her mouth twisted as she brushed nonexistent lint off her pants. “I’m not ready for that.”

  “Mia, you’ve been preaching at me for years to start living my life. Maybe it’s time to take your own advice.”

  “My situation is different.”

  “There’s no reason it has to be.” Tapping the back of her hand, Nick said, “Nota would never turn her back on you. If Henri can make you happy, then she’ll love her for that alone.”

  “I don’t want to disappoint her,” she whispered.

  “Nota would never be disappointed in you.”

  Biting her lip, Mia pulled her knees up to her chest. “I’m not talking about Grandma.”

  So that’s how it was. Nick had no idea how to discuss such things with his sister, regardless of what team she played for. Wanting to give her some reply, he offered the one thing he knew for sure.

  “You deserve love as much as anyone else,” he said. “Don’t let fear stand in the way of something good.”

  When she didn’t respond, Nick let the subject drop and together they watched the waves in silence, each wallowing in their own romantic shortcomings.

  19

  “Where do you get the inspiration for your food?” the reporter asked.

  Lauren had already answered this question three times. Thank goodness this was the last interview of the day.

  Will had not been kidding about making sure the restaurant had plenty of PR. They’d used the conference room at the Destination Anchor offices as a makeshift media space, and Lauren had been taking time away from the kitchen to be available.

  “I grew up around Boston so there’s plenty of New England influence,” she explained. “Lots of seafood, of course, which is why operating a restaurant here on Anchor Island was a perfect fit. The fresh product so readily available made creating the menu a dream.”

  “This is your first time running your own kitchen, correct?” he said, shoving the small recorder closer to her face. Another repeat question.

  “Yes, this is my first opportunity to take the lead,” she said, repeating what she’d told the previous interviewers, “but I’ve been in the industry for more than a decade so I’m fully comfortable in the position.”

  “I was lucky enough to get a table for brunch this morning and I wanted to ask about the baked flounder and eggs combo. Though more common in other parts of the world, what made you put such a unique dish on the menu here?”

  At first, the staff had not been in support of the late addition to the menu, but once they’d tasted Lauren’s version, they were easily convinced.

  “A friend made the dish for me once and I liked it so much I believed that others would as well.”

  “You were right,” he said. “That was one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten.”

  Appreciating the high praise, she said, “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “One more question. What made you come all the way to Anchor Island from Boston? There must have been bigger, more prestigious opportunities in the city. So why here?”

  Lauren kept the smile on her face while answering what she considered an insulting question, to both the island and the people on it.

  “As I’m sure you know, Anchor Island has strict rules regarding what businesses can operate here. They support mom and pop operations and keep big business and franchises out. This policy creates a unique opportunity for creators like me, who have a voice and want to be heard above the noise. An opportunity that would be nearly impossible to find anywhere else.”

  The reporter snapped off the recorder and shoved the dark-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Great answer. Thanks for taking the time to do this.”

  “My pleasure,” she said, sliding off the high stool, anxious to get back to the restaurant.

  “All done?” Roxie asked, popping her head in.

  “Yes, we just finished,” the reporter replied.

  “Then I’ll show you out. Lauren, you have one more person to talk to. Hold on and I’ll bring him in.”

  So much for going back to work. With a huff, Lauren pulled out her phone and returned to the stool. She still checked regularly for messages from Nick. In the last ten days she’d gone through what she assumed were all the stages of a breakup. Never having had a relationship meant never having gone through the end of one.

  First had been the crying accompanied by lots of ice cream. And then she’d felt like an idiot for being so dramatic and been fine for a couple of days. About day five the anger set in. How dare he not even try to talk to her? Yes, she’d been a jerk. Yes, she’d told him to stop trying to mentor her. She hadn’t said she never wanted to speak to him again.

  Or had she? Lauren wished she could remember the details from the night she was drunk. Maybe she’d said something that made him think they couldn’t even be friends anymore. Between launching the restaurant and sorting out her feelings for Nick—both of which had left her teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack—there was no telling what she’d said.

  His silence should have been a relief. This was what she wanted. Then again, if she’d really wanted him out of her life, why had she been a hot mess of longing and loneliness and another l-word she would not remotely entertain for the last ten days?

  “Here he is,” Lauren heard Roxie say right before the conference room door closed. Slipping the phone into her pocket, she stood and turned around, saying, “Hello, I’m Chef Lauren Riley.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” the man said with a wide grin.

  Without thinking, Lauren ran into her brother’s arms with tears streaming down her face.

  “Hey,” Knox said. “I knew you’d be happy to see me, but what’s all this about?” Lauren hadn’t realized how badly she needed to see a familiar face until that moment. Her brother hugged her tight despite saying, “You’re getting my uniform all wet.”

  Not wanting to make a mess on his Army fatigues, she leaned back, sniffling. “I’m just so happy to see you. But how? I mean, what are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t not come celebrate my big sis opening her first restaurant,” he said. “I’d have been here for day one, but this was the soonest I could get leave.”

  Lauren couldn’t stop staring at him. He looked so good. So healthy and happy. Then she realized how far he’d traveled to be there.

  “But you’re stationed in Kentucky and the closest airport to Anchor is hours away. How did you even get to the island?”

  Knox dabbed at her damp cheeks with his knuckles. “We’re in Norfolk for a couple of weeks of training so I just had to rent a car and drive down. I have three days. So when do I get to see this fancy restaurant?”

  Flustered, she took his hand. “Now. Of course. We’ll go right now.”

  She dragged him out of the conference room to find Roxie sitting on the corner of her desk with a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Surprised you, huh?”

  “You had something to do with this?” Lauren asked.

  With a jaunty head tilt, she said, “I might have helped a little.”

  “I had to find an accomplice if I was going to surprise you.” Knox gave Roxie a fist bump. “The directions were perfect, thanks.”

  “How?” Lauren asked.

  “Before the restaurant was open for business, the number here was listed on the website. He called, I answered, and a plan was hatched.”

  She poked her new friend in the arm. “You kept this a secret from me.”

  The younger woman walked around to her chair. “I nearly told you a few days ago when you looked like you needed a pick-me-up, but now I’m glad I didn’t.”

  “I appreciate the self-control,” Knox
said with a salute.

  “Hello,” Will said, entering the building. “How did the interviews go?”

  “Good, I think.” She hoped so anyway. Lauren pulled her brother up beside her and made the introductions. “Will Navarro, this is my brother Knox Riley. Knox, Will and her husband Randy own the restaurant.”

  Will stopped walking and stared at the newcomer as if she were seeing a ghost. Roxie snapped her fingers in front of her boss’ nose.

  “Will, are you okay?”

  She shook her head. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” Closing the distance between them, she greeted Knox with an outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Knox. Your sister is doing an amazing job and you should be really proud of her.”

  “I’ve always been proud of her,” he said, his eyes on Lauren. “I know better than anyone how good she is.”

  The blush warmed her cheeks. “I was just going to show him the restaurant.”

  “Could that wait?” Will asked, her eyes cutting to Knox and then back to Lauren. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

  Confused, Lauren said, “Right now?”

  Will nodded. “Yes, right now.”

  She looked at her brother. “Do you mind waiting?”

  “No problem. We can head over when you’re done.”

  “I’ll keep him company,” Roxie said. “Maybe I can get him to share some stories from when you were kids.”

  The stories from Lauren and Knox’s childhood weren’t the type Roxie was likely hoping for. She gave Knox a don’t tell too much look before following Will into the conference room. When her boss closed the door, Lauren’s heart sank to her knees. Had she done something wrong? Were they not happy with the restaurant? Pilar’s had been open less than two weeks. Surely they would give her more time than that before deciding to replace her.

  “Have a seat.” Will sat down at the head of the table and pulled an envelope from her bag. Setting it in front of her, she waited for Lauren to sit before saying, “This is for you, but I need to explain something first.”