by V. K. Sykes
But when she opened the door, Aiden flashed her only the briefest of smiles. “Hi,” he said.
Lily frowned as she ushered him in. Something had clearly happened in the last six hours to flatten his mood—something that now set her alarm bells clanging. “How about a beer?”
Aiden wandered into the living room and flopped down onto the sofa. “No, thanks. I’m good.” He patted the sofa cushion. “Just come sit down so we can talk.”
Uh-oh. Lily’s stomach took a sickening nosedive. In her experience, when a guy said he wanted to talk, it was a signal she was about to hear something she wouldn’t like.
“How did your meeting go?” he asked, after she cautiously sat and crossed her legs underneath her.
Lily was certain that it wasn’t the car ferry vote that was on his mind, but she played along. For now. “We’re all set to make sure we get the vote out tomorrow. We have to be, because it looks like it’s going to be a pretty tight margin one way or the other.”
Aiden smiled, but his dark eyes looked strained and weary. “For you to miss a day of fishing so you can pull the vote, I’d say it must be damn close.”
“The Jenkins sisters and Holly took sort of a poll down at the store over the weekend,” Lily said. “They set up a mock polling station so people could record their intentions anonymously. Holly told us today at the meeting that the vote was split almost right down the middle—about 40 percent in favor of the ferry and 40 percent against, with the rest undecided.”
“How many people voted?”
“Over a hundred.”
He nodded. “A good sample, since most people shop at the general store.”
Her impatience finally got the better of her. “I can tell something’s bothering you. What’s going on, Aiden?”
He rubbed his jaw, as if it ached. “Let me give you some good news first.”
Good news first, then bad news. Lily’s mouth went totally dry. “One second.” She got up and fetched her coffee, then sat back down and took a sip. It was barely lukewarm but she didn’t care.
Aiden shifted to face her directly. “I told you I was going to sound out a few players who might have some interest in investing in an ecoresort, right? Well, I got hold of four of them, and three were generally positive. One guy, Kirby Weston of the Red Sox, sounded really excited.” He snorted. “I guess Kirby’s got to find something to do with the 168 million bucks he’s getting over the next eight years. He’s a big-time environmental guy, so this would be right up his alley.”
“Wow,” Lily said, genuinely impressed with Aiden’s quick work. “That really is good news.”
“One of my teammates—former teammates, that is—wants to hear more too,” Aiden said. “So I’m going to call Booth in the morning and see if I can set up a meeting with him and Weston and anybody else who wants to come. The Phillies will be in Boston this week, so the timing’s right. If I can get Booth down there to meet those guys, you should go too, Lily.”
Despite the impending bad news, Lily couldn’t help feeling excited that her off-the-wall idea might actually have some kind of real-world chance. “I hate to miss another day of fishing, but sure, I guess we could do that.”
Aiden’s intent gaze bored into her. “No, I meant you should go, not us. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”
She peered at him, confused. “You don’t think you’ll be able to make it? What exactly does that mean?”
When he reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it, Lily knew the bad news was about to blow in. Then it hit her with blinding force. “Oh, my God, you got a call, didn’t you? Some team wants to give you a job.” The words practically choked her.
Aiden gave a tight nod as he let go of her hand.
Lily struggled to recover, determined not to get weepy. She should hardly be surprised, should she? She’d known all along this moment would come, despite her stupid, girlish hopes that it never would.
“Where?” she managed.
“Oakland. Well, Sacramento, for now. But my agent says I would be the first outfielder to get called up from the minor-league team.”
For a guy who’d just received the call he’d been desperately waiting for, Aiden looked more grim than happy.
As for her, Sacramento might as well be the moon. “A minor-league team,” she said numbly. “Isn’t that a… comedown?”
When he flinched a bit, she felt awful.
“Sure, but it’s an opportunity. A chance to play a few more years if I do well. It’s probably the only chance I’ll get.”
She nodded, hoping she didn’t look like her world was ending. “I understand.” She forced a smile. “Well, that’s good.”
What else could she say? Beg him not to grab at the opportunity he’d been holding his breath to get? She’d never stand in the way of Aiden and his dream. Besides, even if he said no to this offer because of her—not that he would—he’d inevitably end up resenting her, and that would poison any chance they had to be together.
“If I go, it looks like I’ll have to be out of here by the day after tomorrow at the latest, and that makes me…” Aiden grimaced. “It makes me feel like I’m letting you down. I’m sorry, Lily.”
It almost felt like he was asking her permission to go. He had to know that she’d have a hard time on the boat without him, but did he also know that she’d have a hard time living without him?
Of course not, because she’d been in full denial mode herself.
She could never tell him how much she dreaded losing him again. Aiden had done so much for her, and even now he was working hard to find a way to rescue Seashell Bay. He was doing that for her as much as for any newfound reconciliation with the island and his past. How could she ladle more guilt onto him for doing the only thing he’d ever wanted to do?
“I’ll go to Boston,” she said decisively. “I’ll do whatever it takes to move our idea forward.”
He blinked once and then gave her a relieved smile. “Thanks, babe.”
She knew he was thanking her for a whole lot more than attending a meeting.
“But this time I hope you won’t wait fourteen years to come back and visit,” she said, forcing a smile. “Even if the ecoresort idea goes nowhere.”
“I won’t. Everything’s different now, Lily.”
She searched his dark eyes, thinking about what everything’s different actually signified. What he’d just said felt right. A lot had changed since Aiden came back. She’d changed since Aiden came back.
No, he wasn’t going to stay in Seashell Bay, but what about her? Did she really have to spend every moment of her life on the island, chained to her boat and her family? Especially if that meant losing Aiden again?
“Well, maybe I could come visit you in Oakland,” she blurted out. “When fishing season is over, I mean. I’d love to see the West Coast.”
Okay, that sounded stupid, like she wanted a vacation out there. But she didn’t just want a damn vacation with Aiden. She wanted more—a lot more.
His tense mouth relaxed into a slow, pleased smile. “That would be great. I’d like that a lot.”
Lily could breathe again. “Okay, then,” she said, which sounded totally lame. Now what the hell do I say?
He reached over and tugged gently on a lock of her hair. “Look, though, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I haven’t even said yes to Oakland’s offer yet.”
Maybe not, but you clearly want to go. “I understand,” she said mechanically, trying to get her whipsawing emotions under control.
Aiden stole a glance at the grandfather clock. “As much as I’d like to stay, I’ve got to go talk to Dad now. Fill him in on what we want to do with the ecoresort.” His grim expression indicated he’d rather swim through a snake-infested swamp.
She grimaced in sympathy. “Well, good luck with that.”
“Bram went nuts when I told him this afternoon, but I swore him to silence so I could break it to Dad myself, in my own way. Otherwise, the old man would be w
aiting for me on the porch with his shotgun.”
Lily jabbed him in the shoulder. “Don’t even joke about that. Look at how crazy he got at the festival social. I’m sorry, Aiden, but your dad’s been unstable for as long as I’ve known him.” She bit her lip, realizing how mean that sounded. “But I guess it goes all the way back to Vietnam, doesn’t it? It must have really messed him up.”
Aiden was just about to get up, but he froze. “Vietnam? What are you talking about?”
She stared at his blank expression, mystified by his reaction. “Um, well, how he changed after he came back. I assumed it was because of what he’d experienced over there in the war.”
Aiden slowly rose to his feet and stared down at her. “Why the hell would you think he fought in Vietnam?”
She felt her mouth gape open. Oh, sweet Mother of God, he really doesn’t know.
Even as she tried to absorb that stunning realization, she scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t rat out her mother. “Oh, I heard it somewhere. You know how people on the island talk.”
Actually, it appeared that in this case, people in Seashell Bay had kept silent for an entire generation, no doubt out of respect for Rebecca Flynn. Lily’s mom had made it clear that Rebecca had asked people not to talk about it, especially in front of Sean, but who could believe that Aiden and Bram would have been kept in the dark all those years? It was a horrible thing to have done to them.
“No fucking way,” Aiden snapped. “My folks never said a word to Bram and me about him serving in Vietnam or anywhere else. That has to be a bullshit rumor started by one of Dad’s enemies.”
Lily could barely stand to look at the expression of growing disbelief and betrayal in his eyes.
Back away fast, girl.
“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time that sort of thing happened,” she said.
He glared at her for a few more seconds, then strode to the door and grasped the knob. “That’s one more thing for tonight’s agenda then. I guess it’s not surprising I hadn’t heard that rumor, but Bram and Dad sure as hell must have.”
Lily scrambled to follow him. “Maybe it would be better not to complicate things even more tonight. You’re going to hit your dad with something pretty big, after all.”
The anger in his gaze as it swept over her made her heartsick.
“Screw that. I’m sick of all the stupid secrets and gossip on this island. I’m sick of being guilt-tripped and manipulated, and it’s going to end now.” Aiden jerked the door open and was gone.
Bram was rocking in the porch swing of the family house, beer in hand, when Aiden pulled up. How many times had the two of them sat on that swing with their mother in the middle, reading to them from a book or a magazine like National Geographic? Now though, like most things in the house—a gracious old Victorian that had nurtured three generations of his mother’s family—the swing was deteriorating, its boards so weather-beaten that Aiden was surprised it could still hold Bram’s weight.
He took the scuffed wooden steps two at a time and stood in front of Bram, barely managing to keep his emotions under control. Telling Lily about the Oakland offer had been tough enough without her throwing that bullshit about Vietnam at him. That had felt like a punch to the head. Why the hell would someone even tell her something that stupid?
“You didn’t say anything to the old man, did you?” he asked.
“Hell, no. You asked me not to.”
Aiden gave him a grateful nod before heading into the house, Bram following right behind. From the foyer, the place looked even worse than from the outside. Dust coated every surface, and a couple of posts were missing from the oak staircase to his left. Half the bulbs in the chandelier were dead, and the remaining ones cast crazy patterns of light over the dingy walls of the entryway. His mother would have been appalled—though not necessarily surprised—to see the current state of the family home she had inherited and lovingly preserved.
“Dad?” he called out.
“Kitchen,” his father growled from the back of the house.
Aiden strode down the hall and into the farm-style kitchen. His father sat at the big, rectangular table, the sports section of the Portland paper spread open in front of him.
“Don’t tell me you’ve made a decision?” Sean said sarcastically without looking up.
Aiden throttled back his anger. “Okay if we sit down?”
His father waved a careless hand.
“I’ll grab you a beer,” Bram said nervously.
Aiden nodded, even though he didn’t need a drink to steady his nerves. He didn’t look forward to this conversation but he didn’t dread it either. He was doing the right thing, and no amount of threats or abuse from his father could change that.
After taking the beer Bram held out, Aiden got down to business. “I have made a decision, as a matter of fact. I’ve thought about it nonstop since I got here, trying to consider all the implications. And I’ve finally decided that the kind of development you and Bay Island Properties want isn’t right for Seashell Bay.”
His father’s head jerked up, his eyes bugging out of his skull. “Son of a bitch!” He slammed his first down on the newspaper. “What the fuck is the matter with you, anyway?”
Sitting between them, Bram flinched and looked away.
“Just let me finish, okay?” Aiden said. “Then you can call me all the names you can think of and throw me out of your house.”
Sean glowered at him across the nine feet of battered oak that separated them. “I’ll do worse than that, boy, if you keep up this bullshit.”
“Guys,” he said, ignoring the threat as he glanced back and forth between his father and brother, “I’m really sorry that I can’t go along with what you want. I wish I could. What Bay Island wants to do is just too destructive. We’re a small island town, not suburbia, and that kind of tract housing doesn’t fit here. And it’s also not right because it’ll split our community for a long time, if not totally trash it. It’s already caused huge problems.”
“Our community,” his father sneered. “That’s pretty rich coming from a guy who only bothered to show up when his mother was buried.”
Aiden clenched his fists under the table. He would not lose control tonight. Besides, his dad had a point. Aiden had evaded his responsibility to his family and the people he loved for far too long.
The old man leaned forward, his skin mottling an ugly red. “Well, I guess we now know that you care more about those losers like the goddamn Doyles than you do about your own family.”
Aiden ignored the bitter taunt. “It doesn’t have to be Bay Island or nothing. There are better alternatives to their plan. In fact, I’ve already started working on one.” He mentally prepared himself for another explosion. “A proposal to build an ecotourism resort on our land.”
His father looked confused for a second. “A what?”
Bram rolled his eyes.
“Hold your fire.” Aiden said. Rapidly, he explained the basics of his idea—Lily’s idea, truth be told. But there was no point trying to elaborate when the old man was giving the impression he was about to stroke out.
“That’s about the dumbest damn idea I’ve ever heard,” his father spat out. “How much would your fancy-ass resort pay for our acreage, huh? Nobody in his right mind would fork out even half of what Dunnagan’s giving us. Not unless they could build the housing too.”
“They wouldn’t want Dad’s land either,” Bram finally piped up. “Aiden, you know any kind of resort would only want to build on yours and mine.”
“Damn right,” Sean said, nodding at his younger son.
Aiden had his answer ready—the one he’d been thinking about all day, and the only chance he could see for getting his father’s agreement.
“That’s an issue we can deal with ourselves,” he said. “I’m prepared to do a land swap with you, Dad. You can have my acreage, and I’ll take a piece on this end of your property.” He stared at his father, willing him to g
et what he was saying. “You’d get a nice chunk of cash that way—selling my current land and maybe even a small adjacent section of yours. An ecodeveloper would probably need Bram’s and mine and a little of yours.”
His father hooted with derision. “Why would I go for that? I’ve got a great deal in the palm of my hand. The only thing holding it up is you.”
“You’re not hearing me,” Aiden said sharply. “There’s no way I’m selling my land to a developer that’s going to ruin the island. It’s not what I want, and it’s not what Mom would have wanted either. So the Bay Island plan is dead in the water.”
Sean shot to his feet, jolting the table hard in the process. “Like hell it is. Screw you, Aiden, because we’ll find a way to do it without you. You can keep your little piece of useless land in the middle and take it straight to hell with you!” He stormed to the fridge and pulled out another beer.
That heated declaration had Aiden frowning. Since he’d come home, everybody had been saying that his land was the key to the Bay Island development, and the plan couldn’t go forward without it.
“I seriously doubt that Dunnagan will go ahead without my property,” he said, keeping his voice deliberately calm. “But in any case, he’s made it clear that he won’t want to go ahead with anything once the car ferry is defeated tomorrow.”
“Dream on, boy. We’re winning the vote.”
“We’ll see. All I know for sure is that I’m going to vote against it, and I’m going to ask the ‘No’ team to make sure everybody knows my position. One of your buddies told me it would help your cause if I spoke out in favor of the ferry, so I figure that should work both ways.”
His father’s glare was as ice-cold as the Atlantic in January. “Fill your boots then, and see how far it gets you. You’re nothing on this island. Never were and never will be.”
Bram had been picking nervously at the label of his beer bottle. He finally looked up, his tight features reflecting his distress. “Dad?”
“What?” Sean thundered.
Bram winced but forged on. “I think I get where Aiden is coming from—about how the plan will change everything on the island. And he’s right that Mom wouldn’t have liked it, so maybe we need to rethink this.”