by Amy Olle
Upon contact, Dominic observed her speech was jumbled, and at times incoherent, and then described her behavior as uncooperative.
Uncooperative?
Luke continued to read, trying to untangle the disjointed account of events. By the time he’d come to the end of the file, he had a clearer picture of Emily’s conduct, not as defiant or insolent, but increasingly withdrawn and panicked under duress.
His chest squeezed.
Behind him, Newberry shuffled papers.
“Didn’t you administer a Breathalyzer?” Luke asked without turning.
“Sloane did.”
Luke’s fingers froze over the keyboard. With a push, he swiveled in the office chair. “Sloane?”
“He booked her before his shift ended.” A defensive edge crept into Dominic’s tone. “And gave her the Breathalyzer.”
Luke’s scrambled brain attacked the information like a pit bull. “Where are the results?”
“They should be…” He shoved some papers around on the desk. “Here.”
Luke waited while the kid squinted down at the report.
A moment later, two bright pink spots stained his cheeks. “Oh.”
Luke pushed to his feet. “I’m releasing her. She isn’t drunk. Can you get her things ready?”
Halfway to the jail entrance, Luke turned. “And try to keep an eye on the handcuffs next time. If they’re digging in, they’re too tight.”
Dominic blinked. “I didn’t cuff her.”
Luke blinked back. “You didn’t cuff her?”
“No, sir.” He cleared the squeak from his throat. “I meant to, but I forgot and put her in the backseat. I didn’t want to get her out of the car just to put the cuffs on.”
“Sloane cuffed her?” Luke repeated.
Dominic’s expression turned sheepish and he scratched the crown of his head. “Yeah, and he already gave me a pointed lesson so that next time I don’t forget to do it.”
Uneasy tension situated on Luke’s shoulders. “How about you and I go over it one more time later, just to be sure?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m gonna drive Ms. Cole home. See if you can get her car out of the impound tonight, would ya?”
Luke returned to the holding cell to find Emily pacing the small enclosure.
“Ready to go?”
She nearly leapt into his arms. At the front desk, she signed the receipt for her personal effects and shot toward the exit like a pinball from its launcher.
She didn’t speak on the ride, and for once, Luke couldn’t think of a single quip or barb to lighten the heavy silence hanging over them.
He walked her to her front door and waited while she fumbled with her house key in the dark.
“You should consider installing motion-activated lighting out here.”
In the faint moonlight, he could make out the severe scowl screwing up her features.
He held up both hands. “Sorry. It’s a safety issue. Bad habit, I know.”
Finally, the dead bolt gave and she pushed inside. She turned back.
He waited, but she said nothing.
“I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear something about your car,” he said.
Another awkward silence descended. She unsettled him. He had no idea what she was thinking or feeling. He could guess, but he didn’t want to guess.
He waited, desperate to hear what she’d say.
She shut the door in his face.
Emily pressed her forehead against the solid wood door and listened to the sound of Luke’s footsteps fading away. She waited for the bang of a car door, the growl of an engine, and finally, silence.
This was supposed to be her fresh start. Her new life free of sorrow and stigma and self-doubt, where she could be more than the girl who stuttered.
But Luke Nolan ruined that.
Okay fine, it might not be entirely his fault.
With a frustrated sigh, she whipped around and pressed her back to the door.
But it was mostly his fault.
She rubbed her sore wrist, only to recall his gentle touch. Her stomach gave a gleeful flip.
Dammit. She didn’t want to soften to him. Even if she didn’t really know him, she knew she didn’t like him. With his mischievous smile and lighthearted ways, he was trouble for her. Like the cool kids in school, he flustered and unnerved her to the point she lost her composure. If she were lucky, they’d looked right through her, but on those occasions when luck had abandoned her and they’d drawn her out to stand beneath their perpetual spotlight, she’d suffered mightily, whether through taunts and humiliations or their piteous regard.
Never trust the cool kid.
Her stomach released an angry grumble, but in the kitchen, the cupboards remained bare, her groceries languishing in the passenger seat of her car, wherever it was.
She stared unseeing into the empty refrigerator.
She was an idiot, which was a belief she’d held most of her life, beginning with her earliest memories.
Like the time she was five years old and three weeks into speech therapy. Her progress was slow, if not altogether absent, and Emily’s father, Harrison, grew frustrated. He accused her of not trying hard enough to overcome her stutter, an accusation she adamantly denied.
Thinking to teach her a lesson in determination, Harrison had locked her out of the house. She remembered begging to be let inside while tears rushed down her cheeks. It was getting dark, and she was afraid of the dark. Hours passed. She was hungry and tired, and she had to pee.
By the time she’d slunk to the neighbor’s house to ask if she could use their bathroom, she’d waited too long and had wet her pants on their porch.
Heat swept over her skin with the memories. She slammed the refrigerator door shut, as if to block her mind’s journey down torturous paths.
But her thoughts forged new routes around her barriers. She rubbed her temples and paced. When she’d arrived at the house, the size of the kitchen alone had overwhelmed her. Now, the room felt cramped. Oppressive.
Escape. She needed to escape. She flung open the back door and plunged out into the night. A large moon hovered low in the night sky and she raced toward it. Only the steady sound of waves crashing against the shore assured her the lake was out there in the dark.
Hard ground gave way to sand and she kicked off her sandals. She didn’t stop running for fear she’d think. Her lungs burned, but another memory chased her. Cold water splashed her feet. She wriggled out of her yoga pants, discarded the remainder of her clothing, and plunged into the blackness.
A scream tore from her throat when she smacked into the frigid water. Gooseflesh broke out over her skin, but she was naked, so she leapt into the waves and dove for cover.
She swam down, down through the dark silence, where humiliation and regret didn’t exist. Shame drowned away.
Out of breath, she burst through the water’s surface and gasped for air. She turned onto her back and floated while her breathing slowed. Stars punched holes in the black sky. Looking up at them, her small worries washed away.
Laughter piled in her throat. Not all that long ago, she thought she’d forever lost the ability to laugh.
Then a shout rent the air. “What in the hell are you doing?”
Emily sank like a stone.
She splashed and spluttered her way back to the surface. “Luke! Wh-what are you doing here?”
On shore, he stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his body rigid. Ready to pounce.
“I heard a scream.”
“That was me.” She swam closer to shore so that her feet touched the spongy seafloor. “I’m sw-swimming.”
His stance visibly relaxed. “Swimming? Sounded more like cats fighting. Or dying.”
Emily frowned. Her teeth started to chatter.
He crouched in the sand and she squinted, trying to glimpse his movements through the dark.
His head cocked to one side and he pushed to his feet.
Her yoga pants were clutched in his fist.
Emily gasped. “Uh, you can just leave those there.”
White teeth flashed in the shadows of his face.
“Oh, no,” she whispered.
Luke rescued a pair of white cotton panties from the sand swirls at his feet.
He raised his voice over the rush of wind and sea. “I’ll just wait here for you. Until you’re ready to come out.”
After a beat, her reply carried across the water to him. “That isn’t n-necessary.”
“Oh, but I insist.” He fought to banish the laughter from his voice. “Did you growl?”
“Wh-what are you doing h-h-here?”
“Good news. Your car’s been released from the impound.” He’d received the call from Dominic while on the return drive to the station and, wishing to make it right for her, had turned around and headed straight back to her place. “I can take you to pick it up now, if you want.”
“Great!” The word erupted as a yelp. “I owe you o-one.”
“Now isn’t that an interesting thought,” he murmured.
“Wh-what?”
“Nothing. Any idea when you’ll be done? I need to get back to work.”
All kinds of amusing squeaks and grunts drifted across the water’s surface. “Uh… I’ll meet you up at the house in a few m-minutes.”
“I’ll wait.”
“No, really—”
He rescued her bra from the beach and lifted it in front of his face. He waited for her eruption of indignation, but it didn’t come. Instead, something happened. Something changed.
She changed.
Right before his eyes, her frantic movements eased. Her breathing quieted. She swam closer to shore, pushing forward through the water until her shoulders emerged, pale and pure in the moonlight. She kept coming.
Until the mounds of her breasts rose above the surface.
Luke’s mouth went dry.
The two beaded nipples poked through the water and he sucked a hiss of air between his teeth. Water scuttled down her body, over the erotic flare of her hips.
Gripped by the slow reveal, his gaze became riveted on the juncture of her thighs. He licked his suddenly parched lips.
Holy fuck.
Was that—? Was she—? He squinted to see in the dark. Was she a natural redhead?
His senses misfired. He could taste the color of her gold-brown eyes. Hear the soft whisper of her thighs brushing together as she walked toward him. Smell the aroma of her uncertainty and obstinacy.
Her breasts and hips swayed in time to the beat of his pounding heart. The hypnotic rhythm held him captive. Never once had he suspected a body like that existed beneath the pajamas she wore. Bountiful and toned, with lush breasts and hips offset by a narrow waist and shapely thighs.
He unabashedly drank in every naked, glorious inch of her body. He couldn’t have hidden his reaction to her if he’d wanted to. He was spellbound.
She came to stand before him.
He searched his mind for something—anything—to say, but nothing would come. He swallowed to dislodge the lump of lust and shock jammed in his throat.
A bemused smile twitched at the corners of her plump mouth and one arched eyebrow inched upward.
He shoved her clothes at her.
She drew the T-shirt over her head, foregoing her bra, and tugged her yoga pants over the exaggerated swell of her hips. His cock took notice of every swing and jiggle.
She straightened and her puckered nipples screamed at him through the wet cotton.
With a knowing smile, she plucked the bra from his hand and carried the delicate undergarment along with her sandals as she turned toward the house.
The swing of her hips as she walked away caused the circuits of his brain to fry. Regret that he’d been deprived a glimpse of her lush ass filled him.
She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?” Her husky purr wrapped around his cock and squeezed.
Then she left him standing alone on the beach in the dark.
With her panties dangling from his fingertips.
Chapter Five
On Friday, Mina came home.
Emily bounded across the foyer and flung open the front door.
Mina wrestled a suitcase over the threshold. She dropped the bag and threw her arms around Emily. “It’s good to see you. How are you?”
“I’m good. H-How about y-y-you? How was Ireland?”
Noah appeared in the doorway. He let two black suitcases hit the floor with a thud. “Did you tell her?”
“Tell me wh-what?”
Mina’s smile could’ve lit up the entire island. “We’re getting married.”
Hugs bounced around the trio.
“Have y-you picked a date?”
“Halloween.” Noah smiled down at Mina. He flicked a strand of hair out of her eyes. “It’s kind of an anniversary for us.”
At the tender lilt to his voice, Emily’s heart gave a little wrench of longing. She cleared her throat. “Halloween is less than two months away.”
Mina dragged her gaze from Noah. “It’s going to be a small wedding.”
“If you need anything—”
Mina brightened. “Would you mind helping with the menu? And the flowers? You have an eye for color and I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“All you need to do is show up,” Noah interjected. “No one cares about the rest.”
Mina’s features twisted into a frown. “I care.”
Noah ignored her. “We were hoping to have dinner here after the ceremony. In the ballroom, if possible.”
A bloom of pleasure unfolded in Emily’s chest. “It’s all yours, and if there’s anything I can do to help, just name it.”
Mina bit down on her bottom lip. “Actually, there is one more thing, but I totally understand if you don’t want to do it.”
Emily’s gaze trailed to Noah. “Now I’m worried.”
He grinned. “You should be.”
Mina elbowed him in the ribs. “Will you be my maid of honor?”
Shock and an upswell of emotion clogged Emily’s throat.
A frisson of worry chased across Mina’s face. “I promise not to put you in an ugly dress.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, who am I kidding? They’re all ugly. And uncomfortable, and overpriced, and no matter what we say when we pick it out, you will not be able to wear it again. Anywhere. Ever.”
Around her watery laugh, Emily nodded.
“You’ll do it?” Mina asked.
Emily nodded again.
Noah clapped his hands. “Great. I say we celebrate. I’m starved. Dinner and drinks at the pub?”
While Mina and Noah disappeared to the carriage house to change, Emily dug out the breezy black blouse she’d worn to her mom’s funeral and yanked her lone pair of blue jeans over her hips. They were more than a tad snug, but they were the only pants she owned that couldn’t reasonably be mistaken for pajamas, so she ignored the way they cut into her flesh and slid her feet into her shabby sneakers.
At Lucky’s Irish Pub, Emily and Mina settled in a booth at the back of the restaurant while Noah headed to the bar.
“How do you like life on the island?” Mina asked.
Emily only just stopped herself from launching into a full-blown tirade detailing the hell that’d been her life on the island thus far. As Noah’s brother was in large part the root cause of that hell, she swallowed her outburst.
“It’s been an adjustment,” she said carefully.
Mina shot her a knowing smile. “How’s the bed-and-breakfast? Have you had many guests?”
Emily sagged against the booth. “Not even one.”
“Really? I thought for sure you’d be booked this time of year?”
Emily shook her head. “There aren’t as m-many tourists taking the ferry out here as I expected.”
A frown pulled down the corners of Mina’s mouth. “Yeah, they mostly stay on the mainland.”
“Maybe if it were
n’t called Thief Island, but something more… enticing,” Emily said. “Like Paradise Cove or Safe Harbor.”
Mina laughed. “How about Temptation Island?”
“I’d be booked nonstop if we lived on Temptation Island.”
Noah appeared at the table, balancing a large tray loaded down with a pitcher of beer, a heaping platter of nachos, and plates and mugs.
He slid into the booth next to Mina. “Hope you two are hungry.”
The aroma wafted over the table.
Mina reached for the pitcher and began filling mugs. “To be fair, by the time we completed the sale of the house, it was a little late for you to take full advantage of the tourist season. Next year will be better, I’m sure.”
Emily hoped that was true. In the meantime, it’d just be her and ghosts of the Winslows who’d passed. Although she disliked being alone, she derived comfort from the home’s long history.
Mina reached for a nacho chip, but then snatched her hand back. She sighed and deflated in her seat.
Noah quirked an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” She sighed.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Noah asked.
Twin pink spots stained her cheeks. “I’m getting married next month. The diet needs to start now.”
His brows snapped into a frown. “Shut the fuck up.” He slopped a healthy serving of nachos onto a plate and shoved it at her. “Eat. Or I’ll force-feed you.”
Mina bit her lower lip to hide her smile. Eyes shining, she ate.
Emily ducked her chin to conceal her own smile and filled a plate. As she bit into a chip loaded with beans and cheese, Noah lifted a hand and waved at someone over her shoulder.
“There’s Luke,” he said.
Emily jerked around in the booth. Her knee knocked into the table leg and their drinks rocked precariously. She dove to steady them and then twisted back around to confirm Noah’s pronouncement.
She spotted him near the front entrance. Her worst nightmare.
He moved across the pub, a long-limbed, large-breasted woman decorating his right arm. Even without the oversized sunglasses, Emily recognized the woman from the airport. Her face was even more lovely than her outrageous body.