by Marie Force
Resting her head on his chest, she let out a contented sigh. “It’s so pretty this time of day.”
His throat tightened with emotion, and his entire body ached from wanting her. “Sure is.”
“It’s pretty every time of day. I never get tired of our spectacular view,” she said as a shiver traveled through her.
“You shouldn’t get too cold.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s a good night for a fire.” Now where did that come from? He’d no sooner said the words than he wanted to take them back.
“Oh, can we? I’d love that!”
Owen wanted to moan as he imagined how gorgeous she’d look in the firelight. With her around to look at all day, every day, he never ran out of ways to torture himself. “Sure we can. Mac inspected the chimney last week and declared us good to go.” Owen had collected a ton of driftwood off the beach that had been drying on the porch for weeks.
“I got marshmallows at the store. We can have a campout.”
Perfect, Owen thought. More torture. Her childlike glee at the simple things in life was one of the qualities he liked best about her and part of what made him want her with a burning need unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
“Will you play for me, too? You know I love listening to you.”
Here, wrapped around him, was everything he’d never known he wanted. And wasn’t it ironic that he couldn’t have her. He would’ve laughed at the lunacy of the situation if his growing ache for her hadn’t been so damned painful. “Absolutely,” he managed to say. “Let’s go in before you catch a cold.”
Was she reluctant to step out of his embrace, or was that just wishful thinking on his part? As he followed her inside, he took a last look at the horizon where the ferry was nearly out of sight and hoped he hadn’t made a huge mistake by letting it leave without him.
Laura’s alarm dragged her out of a deep sleep the next morning. Ever since she’d moved to the island right after Labor Day to renovate and manage the Sand & Surf Hotel, she’d been sleeping well again. That was a welcome relief following months of sleepless nights.
Discovering that her new husband hadn’t quit dating after their May wedding had shocked the life out of her—almost as much as discovering she’d been married just long enough to get pregnant. Months of restless nights, mounting anxiety and relentless morning sickness had taken a toll. By the time she arrived to start her new job, she’d been a wreck.
A month later, she was restored, energized, loving her new job and falling more into something with her sexy housemate with each passing day. She thought about the evening they’d spent together in front of the fireplace, roasting marshmallows and singing silly songs and laughing so hard she’d had tears rolling down her face at one point.
What would she have done without his steady presence to get her through these last few weeks? His care and concern had been a balm on the open wound her husband Justin had inflicted on her heart. And while she had no doubt Owen wanted more than the easy friendship they’d nurtured since they met over the summer, she didn’t feel comfortable pursuing a relationship with him when they were on such vastly different paths. Not to mention, she was still technically married, which wasn’t likely to change any time soon with Justin refusing to grant her a divorce.
With her baby due in February, her life would be all about responsibility for the next eighteen years. Owen’s life was all about transience. He loved his vagabond existence. He was proud of the fact that everything he owned fit into the back of his ancient VW van. Other than the Sand & Surf, which his grandparents had owned and run for more than fifty years before their retirement, he had no permanent address and liked it that way.
His world simply didn’t fit with hers, even if she liked him more than she’d ever liked any guy—including the one she married. Despite their significantly different philosophies on life, their chemistry was hard to ignore. She wasn’t immune to the heated looks he sent her way or the overwhelming need to touch him that was becoming almost impossible to resist.
Standing with him on the porch last night, looking out over the ocean as the sun set, had been a moment of perfect harmony. They had a lot of those moments. Whether it was picking out paint colors for the hotel or discussing furniture options or reviewing advertising strategies, they agreed on most things. And when they disagreed, he usually said something to make her laugh, and she’d forget why she didn’t agree with him.
She turned on her side to look out on the glorious view that was now a part of her everyday life. She’d loved the old Victorian hotel since she visited the island as a young girl after her mother died. Then it had reminded her of an oversized dollhouse. Those summers with her Uncle Big Mac and Aunt Linda had been the best of her life. They—and their island—had saved her from the overwhelming grief that had threatened to consume her. The island had saved her from the same fate earlier this year when she’d come for her cousin Janey’s wedding and discovered a whole new life, thanks in large part to Owen.
With Justin fighting the divorce and still unaware he was soon to be a father, Laura should be spectacularly unhappy. As she got out of bed and dragged herself into the shower, she couldn’t deny that the only reason she wasn’t spectacularly unhappy was because she got to be with Owen every day.
She thought about that fact of her new life as she dried her hair and got dressed to meet her Aunt Linda for breakfast at the South Harbor Diner. Maybe it was time she and Owen had a heart-to-heart about what was really going on between them. But how exactly did one broach such a subject? Did she say, “Listen, I know you want me, and you know I want you, but that’s where our similarities begin and end. We can’t build a relationship based on chemistry alone.” Could they?
That question stayed with her as she went downstairs where Owen was sanding the hardwood floors in the lobby. At some point over the last few weeks, her project of renovating the old hotel had become their project, which was fine with her. Everything was more fun with him around to share it with, and besides, his grandparents owned the place, so it seemed fitting to have him involved in the decisions.
Owen turned off the sander, removed his respirator mask and hustled her outside to the porch. “You shouldn’t be breathing the dust.”
When he was always taking care of her in one way or another, how was she supposed to remember they wanted different things out of life?
He took a closer look at her. “You look nice. What’s the occasion?”
On regular workdays, she tossed her hair up in a ponytail and didn’t bother with the light bit of makeup she’d applied to meet her always well-put-together aunt. “Breakfast with Linda, but I won’t be long.”
She felt guilty about leaving him to work when she was the one being paid to oversee the renovations. That reminded her she wanted to speak with his grandmother about getting him on the payroll. Since he’d given up his gig in Boston to babysit her this winter, it was the least she could do for him.
“Take your time,” he said with a grin that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Believe it or not, I can manage on my own for an hour or two.”
Looking up at him, she had to fight the ever-present urge to straighten the shaggy dirty-blond hair that hung low on his brow. “Owen. . .”
Amusement and affection danced in his gray eyes. “What’s on your mind, Princess?”
As a modern, independent woman, Laura knew she probably shouldn’t love that nickname quite as much as she did. “We need to talk.” They couldn’t go on like this all winter without one or both of them incinerating from the heat that arced between them.
“Probably.” He bent to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “But not when you’ve got somewhere to be.”
The loving gesture took her breath away. She wanted to reach up, grab a fistful of that unruly hair and drag his sexy mouth down for a kiss that would leave him as breathless as he made her feel when he looked at her in that particular way. But then she remembered all the reasons wh
y it was a terrible idea for her recently shattered heart to take a chance on a man who thrived on freedom.
She’d survived heartbreak once—barely. Why in the world would she set herself up for another trip down that hellish road? “Later, then,” she said, her voice sounding as shaky as she felt. “We’ll talk later.”
“I’ll be here.”
Laura felt him watching her as she went down the stairs to the sidewalk. As much as she wanted to look back at him, she didn’t. Rather, she took deep breaths to regulate her heart rate. The powerful effect he had on her was frightening. Nothing had even happened between them, and she already knew if he broke her heart, it would be way worse than the substantial damage Justin had done.
By the time she stepped into the South Harbor Diner, she’d almost gotten her heart to stop pounding, but the looming conversation with Owen had her vibrating with nervous energy.
Laura was surprised to find her friends, Grace and Stephanie, along with her cousin Mac’s wife, Maddie, sitting with her Aunt Linda in a corner table. Grace had recently gotten together with Laura’s cousin Evan, and Stephanie was hot and heavy with Laura’s cousin Grant.
Everyone around her, it seemed, was newly in love and glowing with happiness.
“Hi, honey,” Linda said, rising to greet Laura with a hug. Linda’s love and affection had helped to fill the awful void left in Laura’s young life after her mother died. “You look so pretty. Come have a seat.”
“I didn’t realize we were having a party,” Laura said, thrilled to see the others. Her new friends were also a big part of the reason she was so happy on the island. It was comforting to be around people who hadn’t witnessed the thermonuclear meltdown of her marriage and didn’t look at her with pity the way her friends in Providence did.
“Neither did we,” Grace said, “and I’m kind of relieved to see you all. When Linda asked me to meet her, I thought I was in for a ‘when are you going to marry my son’ inquisition.” She punctuated the comment with a cheeky grin for Linda.
“Don’t be silly,” Linda said. “I’d never ask such a question.”
The others laughed at the ludicrous statement.
“Right,” Stephanie said, dripping with sarcasm.
Propping her chin on her upturned hand, Linda zeroed in on Grace. “Since you brought it up, when are you going to marry my son?”
“Don’t make eye contact,” Stephanie advised Grace.
“You hush,” Linda said to Stephanie, who she often said she would’ve handpicked for Grant. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“You’re not the one who has to do the asking,” Stephanie said, arching a brow meaningfully at her boyfriend’s mother.
“Touché,” Maddie said, laughing at her mother-in-law’s shameless quest for information about her unmarried sons and their love lives.
Sydney Donovan came rushing through the door and made a beeline for their table. “So sorry I’m late,” she said, also seeming surprised to see the others.
They scooted chairs around to make room for the newcomer, who was Maddie’s close friend from childhood.
“Luke dropped me off on his way to see Dr. David,” Sydney said. “Fingers crossed this is his last appointment for the ankle injury from hell.”
“Oh, let’s hope so,” Maddie said. “At least he’s finally off the crutches.”
“And he’s walking much better since the surgery,” Sydney said as she accepted a cup of coffee from the waitress.
Laura shook her head when offered coffee. “Could I have decaf tea, please?” Oh how she missed coffee!
“And when are you two tying the knot?” Linda asked Sydney.
Sydney’s cheeks flushed with color to match her strawberry-blonde hair. “Soon.”
“Oh my God!” Maddie said. “Have you been holding out on me?”
“Luke asked me a while ago, but I wasn’t ready yet. I think I might be now.”
“Oh, Syd,” Maddie said, hugging her friend. “I’m so happy for you!”
After losing her husband and children in a drunk-driving accident more than a year and a half ago, Sydney had returned to Gansett Island earlier in the summer and reconnected with Luke, her first love, a part owner of McCarthy’s Gansett Island Marina.
“I haven’t told him yet,” Sydney said, “so keep a lid on it for a few days.”
“Our lips are sealed,” Maddie said, and the others nodded in agreement.
“I’m thrilled for you both,” Linda said, reaching out to pat Syd’s hand.
“Thank you,” Sydney said. “I’m rather thrilled myself.”
“No one deserves it more,” Laura said.
They talked wedding plans and hotel renovations and kids for a while before Linda tapped her spoon on her coffee cup to get their attention.
“The reason I invited you all to come today,” Linda said, “is I have a project I need your help with.”
“Sure,” Grace said. “What can we do?”
“You’ve all heard about the new lighthouse keeper—Jenny Wilks?”
“I’ve heard she’s living out there,” Stephanie said, “but I’ve never seen her.”
“Neither have I,” Laura said.
“Mac told me she has her groceries delivered so she doesn’t have to leave the lighthouse,” Maddie said.
“That’s what I’ve heard, too,” Linda said. “Big Mac was on the search committee, and when she sealed herself off out there, he said we should do something. And that’s where you all come in.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Part of the application process was an essay about an event in their lives that made them who they are today. Hers is so heartbreaking. Listen to this. . .”
Chapter 2
“My name is Jenny Wilks, and I’m applying for the lighthouse keeper’s position on Gansett Island,” Linda read from a paper she pulled from her purse. “I currently reside in Charlotte, North Carolina, and the reason for my interest in the position dates back more than eleven years.
“The morning of September 11, 2001 began like any other Tuesday for my fiancé, Toby, and me.”
“Oh, God,” Maddie whispered.
Sydney reached for Maddie’s hand and held on tight.
Linda had agonized over whether to include Sydney when she called the women together. In the end, she hadn’t the heart to leave her out. Now Linda hoped she’d done the right thing by asking Syd to come.
Linda cleared the emotion from her throat and continued reading. “We woke up in our Greenwich Village apartment, had breakfast, got dressed and left for work—me at an ad agency in mid-town and he as a financial services advisor at the World Trade Center’s South Tower. I don’t remember what we said to each other that morning. Probably the usual stuff about our plans for the day, what time we might be home, what we’d do for dinner. I so wish I could remember our exact words. I had no idea then how very precious they would be.
“We met at Wharton, survived the MBA program together and were due to be married that October. Toby was quiet and studious and destined for big things in his career. I used to call him my sexy nerd. While he tended to be shy with other people, with me he was easy-going, fun to be around and always making plans for our future. As we grappled with the stress of managing new jobs in New York while planning a wedding in North Carolina (where I’m from), his easy-going nature kept me sane.
“I was in a meeting when Toby called my cell phone that morning. We often sent texts back and forth but rarely called each other during the day. I was worried he might be sick or something, so I took the call despite the look of disapproval I received from my supervisor. I vividly recall getting up and starting to walk out of the room. I was about halfway to the door when the fear and panic in Toby’s voice registered. He was saying things I couldn’t comprehend. An airplane had hit the building, there was a fire and they were trapped. He told me they were going up on the roof, hoping to be rescued, but if it all went bad he wanted me to know. . .”
Linda blew out a deep bre
ath and shook her head as tears swam in her eyes. The first time she read Jenny’s letter, she’d wept for an hour imagining the horror of receiving such a phone call.
Stephanie gripped her free hand, a gesture Linda greatly appreciated as she summoned the fortitude to continue. She blinked back the tears and focused on the heartfelt words.
“He wanted me to know how much he loved me. Right around then, people in the office heard what was going on, and everyone ran to the windows where we could see plumes of smoke coming from Lower Manhattan. I started to scream. It couldn’t be happening. I heard the words terrorists and Pentagon and hijacking and all sorts of things that didn’t seem real. Toby was yelling at me over the phone. ‘Jenny,’ he said, ‘are you there?’ I snapped out of it and realized my entire body was cold. I was shivering uncontrollably. Toby needed me, and I had to pull it together for him.
“Somehow I managed to form words. I managed to tell him how very much I loved him, how certain I was that everything would be fine and we’d have a long and happy life together the way we’d always planned. Even though I was utterly terrified, I held it together until he started to cry. He told me he didn’t want to leave me and that he was so sorry to do this to me. He said he wanted me to be happy no matter what, that my happiness was the most important thing to him.
“You all know what happened, so I won’t belabor the point. His body was never recovered. It was like he went to work one morning and disappeared off the face of the earth, which is essentially what happened. For days, weeks, months afterward, I was a total zombie. My parents came to get me, and I went home with them to North Carolina. Toby’s parents had a funeral in Pennsylvania that my parents took me to. I barely remember being there. My sisters quietly canceled the wedding I’d planned down to the last detail. Everyone was so very nice. Our money was refunded. People wanted to help in any way they could, but all the kind gestures in the world couldn’t replace what I’d lost. The oddest part was I never cried. I didn’t shed a single tear even though every part of me hurt.