“You don’t need a big old movie house to have a cinema.”
Actually, you did. “I don’t understand.”
Ray patted her hand. “No worries. I’ll take care of everything. Just grab a sweater while I get the wine.”
She’d nursed enough glasses of wine since arriving to feel bad about wasting it. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer water.”
“Of course I don’t mind, but are you sure?”
Feeling like a heel, she confessed the truth. “I don’t actually like wine.”
“Liza! Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
Excellent question. “I didn’t want to offend you.”
He shook his head. “Child, you couldn’t offend me if you tried. Now I feel bad for making you drink it all this time.”
“You didn’t make me do anything.” Liza waited for him to pass by her chair before rising to her feet. “I’ll grab my sweater from upstairs.”
“Hurry back. We want to get good seats.”
Where in the world were these people hiding a movie theater? Liza dashed up the stairs to grab her heavier sweater off the bed. Despite the island warming up nicely during the day, the evenings turned cool with the wind coming off the water. Hustling back down, she reached Ray as he packed a bottle of wine, as well as a large bottle of water, into a tall lunch-bag-looking sack.
“Let me carry that,” she said, taking the bright-green bag and zipping it closed. “Am I driving?”
Before Ray could answer, she heard a horn outside.
“No need,” he said. “Our ride is here.”
Disappointment dimmed her enthusiasm. She really enjoyed driving the golf cart. So much so that she wished owning one in the city wouldn’t be completely impractical.
“I grabbed a little cash to pay for the movie,” she said, opening the door for Ray. “Is ten dollars enough?”
“You don’t need money for this.”
When they said bargain, they meant it.
Ray all but tap-danced out the door, and Liza enjoyed watching his display of happy excitement. After discussing the details about Ray’s childhood, they’d moved on to his high school days. The more stories Ray had shared, the more animated he’d become. It was as if moving on from the Depression years had lightened his mood.
“Do you remember the first time you saw Casablanca?” she asked, staying close as he progressed down the stairs.
“A man doesn’t forget the night he meets the girl of his dreams.”
The comment didn’t match what she already knew. “I thought you met your wife after the war.”
“Ah,” he said, “that was the love of my life, but Ingrid was the girl of my dreams.”
Liza couldn’t help but laugh. “I see. I’m sure if she’d ever met you, she’d have felt the same way.”
“Of course she would. I was a catch.” He punctuated the response with a wink, and Liza couldn’t help but laugh again.
“What’s so funny?” Kendall asked.
Startled, she looked up to see her former tour guide dressed in dark jeans and a gray button-down shirt. His hair had been brushed but was still wet, she assumed from a shower, and the always-present stubble along his chiseled jawline had been shaved away.
“Wow,” Liza said. “You clean up well.”
“Thanks?” Brown eyes trailed down her frame before returning to her face. “You’re wearing jeans.”
Liza hadn’t planned on leaving the house and now feared the faded denim might not be appropriate. “Should I change?”
“No, ma’am.” He grinned, flashing the deadly dimple. “The jeans work.”
Butterflies burst to life in Liza’s stomach, and she could feel the blush crawling up her cheeks. “Thank you.”
By the time they finished the exchange, Ray had climbed into the back seat of the cart to settle in next to Amos.
“I can sit back there,” she said.
He waved the words away. “I’m good. You young people can sit up front.”
Twenty minutes ago, Liza thought she’d be spending the evening working through her notes and seeing where she needed to fill in the blanks tomorrow. Now she felt as if she’d been fixed up on a date.
With no alternative, she scooted onto the seat beside Kendall and learned he didn’t just look good—he smelled good, too. Earthy with a hint of lavender. She told herself not to lean in, and instead, held tight to the chrome bar and tried not to think about the creatures lurking in the darkness.
“Here we go,” Kendall said, flipping a switch beside the ignition key. The sun hadn’t completely set but was well on its way.
“You have headlights,” she said with amazement. “Does my cart have those?”
“All the carts have them. Did I forgot to point them out?”
He must have, because she would have remembered that. On the days she explored the island, Liza had been careful to return well before the sun went down for fear she would get caught out in the dark and be unable to find her way back.
“Yes, you did.”
“Sorry about that. Now you know.”
True. And if she’d been the least bit curious and tried the same button she most likely had on her cart, she’d have found out for herself. Kendall put the cart in motion, and they made a left out of Ray’s drive. As expected, the night air was cool, and Liza hugged the sweater tightly across her chest.
“Where are we going?” she asked, raising her voice over the wind and the motor.
“To the movies,” Kendall answered, as if they were headed to the local theater to load up on popcorn and check out the latest blockbuster.
“I got that part, but where?”
“Didn’t you tell her?” Kendall asked, looking at Ray in the wide rearview mirror.
“Of course I did. Bradley’s Bargain Cinema.”
“But there’s no cinema on this island,” she argued.
“Sure there is.” Kendall glanced her way, but Liza couldn’t make out his expression. “Bradley’s Bargain Cinema.”
Fine. If they didn’t want to tell her, she’d hold her tongue and see where they ended up.
Bradley’s Bargain Cinema was really Doreen’s house. Or rather, Doreen’s gazebo. The huge screened-in structure measured twenty-by-twenty feet, and Doreen’s husband, Bradley, had added a screen and projector four years prior. The balding man with the big personality loved movies—having made his fortune with a chain of convenience stores only after spending fifteen years as a bit player in Hollywood—and when the social committee had sent out requests for new ideas, Bradley had established his mini–movie theater.
Ever since, the residents, along with the occasional tourist, had been enjoying movie nights throughout the warmer months. Kendall didn’t always attend, but when Ray asked if he’d once again play chauffeur, he’d agreed. If he were honest, he’d admit that tonight was really about seeing Liza. Despite his not seeing her for a week, she’d been on his mind nearly every day.
Either he’d encounter someone who would mention her, or his mind would simply float back to their past encounters. The soft curls twirling around her face when he’d found her at the pier. The desire in her eyes when she’d found him shirtless in the kitchen. The sparks flying, whether from anger or mutual attraction, every time they were together.
He could keep telling himself that the best course of action was to avoid the resident writer or stop being an idiot and admit that all he really wanted was to spend more time with her.
Watching Ray introduce her around, Kendall admired how easily she blended with the locals. This wasn’t an easy group to step into, but she smiled and nodded, and everyone seemed to like her. Still, he caught the tension in her face when she thought no one was looking.
“When are you going to make a move?” asked Larimore as he handed Kendall a beer. “She won’t be here forever, you know.”
“All the more reason to leave her alone.” Kendall considered his parents’ relationship a cautionary tale. One he had no pla
ns to repeat.
“Come on, man. I haven’t seen you look at a woman that way since before you joined up.” Larimore pressed his back to the post that Kendall leaned against. “Take a chance. What do you have to lose?”
More than he was willing to admit. If Liza had been a passing tourist, in for a weekend and gone days later, Kendall might have acted on the attraction. But she wasn’t just a tourist, and he’d already spent enough time with her to know she wasn’t a woman he could tangle with in the sheets and forget about come Monday.
“We’re nothing alike.”
“In your case, that’s a good thing.”
Kendall ignored the quip. “She doesn’t like me.”
Liza glanced his way for the third time in the last five minutes.
“I beg to differ,” Larimore drawled. “Go on. People will start taking their seats soon, and I’ve noticed Jacob watching her a little too closely. Are you going to let that fancy lawyer move in on your territory?”
Scanning the room, Kendall spotted Jacob making his way toward Liza, and the look in his eyes said he intended to make the move Kendall had ruled against. “Hell no,” he muttered, setting his feet into motion. In three strides, he reached Liza’s side and slid an arm around her waist just as the lawyer arrived. “How’s it going, Boston?”
The northerner hated the nickname, which was why Kendall continued to use it.
“It’s going well, James,” Jacob replied through a clenched jaw. “Nice to see you again, Liza.”
Instead of pulling away, Liza leaned into Kendall’s body. Not the reaction he expected. “You, too, Jacob. Did you have a good trip to Seattle?”
“Yes, I did. How are things going with the book?”
“Moving right along.”
An awkward silence settled around them before Bradley yelled, “Lights out in two minutes. Everyone take your seats!”
“Guess we’d better grab our chairs. See you later, Boston.”
Michaels fumed as Kendall navigated Liza toward their seats with a gentle hand on the small of her back. He’d expected her to pull away the moment they’d put some distance between the lawyer and themselves, but instead, she leaned closer and whispered, “Thank you.” Liza settled into the chair beside Ray and Kendall took the one beside her. “I’m sure he’s a nice man,” she whispered, “but something about Jacob Michaels makes me uncomfortable.”
Smart woman.
“He didn’t seem to like you calling him Boston,” she observed.
Kendall caught the lawyer’s eye as he leaned close to reply, “He doesn’t.”
Lips pinched as if he’d eaten something rotten, Jacob Michaels sauntered out of Kendall’s line of sight, presumably to bother someone else. Too bad all the women in attendance knew his tactics and how to avoid them.
“Have you seen this movie before?” Liza asked. She crossed her legs and bounced her Ked-covered foot close to his knee.
“Yeah, but only because they kick off the season with the same film every year.” Black-and-white love stories were not his thing. “I was hoping they’d change things up this time. Toss in a Die Hard, or maybe a Bond flick.”
Liza surveyed the crowd gathering around them. “Wouldn’t the language in Die Hard be a bit racy for this bunch?”
Little did she know. “You’d be surprised how some of these folks talk. Don’t let the leather loafers and fancy jewelry fool you. Most of these people started out as low on the food chain as anyone.”
“Regardless of where they started,” she said, voice low, “they all have more money than I’ll ever see in a lifetime.”
That didn’t have to be true. If she could write one successful book, she could write others. They had to add up at some point.
“Who knows? You might write the next wizard-kid or psycho-killer book that takes off. You’ll be a household name in thirty-seven countries and have to buy a house here just to get some privacy.”
She burst out laughing. “And Ray says I have a vivid imagination.”
Kendall liked her laugh and the easy way she relaxed beside him. Until tonight, they’d either been fighting or flirting, dancing around an unexpected physical attraction. But even when he’d been a brute or pouted like a toddler about something she had no control over, Liza had forgiven him.
So though he had no intention of making a move, as Larimore had put it, Kendall didn’t see any reason they couldn’t progress from truce to friends.
“It could happen.”
“Not likely, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Leaning forward, she rubbed a hand down her shin. “So what’s your story? You’re the only normal person here, which I appreciate, but how did you end up living amid all this wealth?”
By normal he assumed she meant broke. Or at least less well-off. Kendall considered being offended. Then he considered setting her straight. Instead, he replied, “A fluke, I guess. Like you, I inherited some property.”
Liza sat back. “I just realized, when we did the tour, you didn’t show me where you live.”
“I did, actually.” Or he would have if they hadn’t gotten into that fight. “Remember the last place we visited?”
“The one with the gorgeous view? Of course I do.”
That she didn’t say “The place where we argued?” seemed like a good sign. “My house is next to that pier, at the end of the lane.”
“Oh. Wow.” She faced forward before looking his way again. “That must be amazing.”
Testing the waters, he said, “I could show you sometime.” Friends visited each other, right?
Pink lips turned up in a smile. “I’d like that.”
Eyes locked, they sat in silence for several seconds before the lights dimmed.
“Time for the show!” Bradley yelled from the back, as he always did.
Kendall draped his arm over the back of Liza’s chair, catching a curl between his fingers as the screen lit up. Sitting in the darkened gazebo with her scent surrounding him, he decided that maybe black-and-white love stories weren’t so bad, after all.
Chapter 10
The audience applauded the moment Bogart gave his famous final line, and the lights came up seconds later. Somehow, the giant gazebo looked even larger than it had when she’d first walked in. Like a beautiful gift box with a pointed top, the structure sat nestled beneath the trees with an amazing view of the sunset.
The colors lining the horizon when they’d arrived had been breathtaking. As pinks and purples faded into fiery gold, Liza could only stare in wonder, knowing for certain that she’d never seen a more tranquil place than Haven Island.
Before the film started, Ray had introduced her to the few residents she hadn’t met yet, and as Liza had walked around the enclosure, doing her best not to let her discomfort show on her face, an awareness sizzled along the back of her neck. With each sizzle, she’d caught Kendall watching her. On the third instance, she’d acknowledged him with a wave, hoping he’d join them and insist on pulling her away for some reason or another. Just so she could relax her cheeks and not feel like the newcomer in the hot seat.
Liza enjoyed meeting Ray’s friends, but as an introvert, the energy of so many people, all buzzing and catching up, threatened to overwhelm her senses. By the time the movie ended, she’d been leaning so far into Kendall that she’d nearly fallen asleep on his shoulder. A position she corrected the moment the lights came up.
“That movie never gets old,” Ray mumbled before turning to Liza. “I need to chat with Francine. Have Kendall show you the beach. You haven’t seen it at night yet.”
Refusing to leave her apartment after dark did have its drawbacks.
“I can walk out on my own,” she said, all too aware of how comfortable she was getting around the big man on her left. Being friendly was one thing. A moonlit stroll on the beach was another.
As usual, Kendall ignored her comment. “I’ll take you.”
Amos, who’d been sleeping beneath his owner’s chair, leaped into action the moment Kend
all rose to his feet. Like a pro, the dog weaved his way through the crowd and reached the screen door closest to the water before they did.
Kendall pushed the door open and said, “After you.”
“Look at that,” she teased. “You do have manners.”
“I only whip them out on special occasions.”
Amos strolled off ahead of them, and the farther they walked from the gazebo, the quieter the night grew. Liza stopped at the edge of the sand. “Is it okay to take off my shoes?”
“Sure.” He extended a hand.
She accepted his assistance and bent to remove her sneakers. Her palm still tingled even after she let go. “Thank you.” Dropping the shoes to the ground, Liza hugged her sweater tightly and turned her face to the stars. “I’ve never seen a sky like this. I can’t imagine getting to see it all the time.”
He followed her lead and looked up. “We’re lucky that way.” They walked out onto the sand. “You put on a good act while Ray was taking you around, but I get the impression you don’t like crowds.”
Liza hadn’t pegged him as the observant kind. “I’m an introvert, so it isn’t necessarily the number of people, but the energy they give off. It wears me out.”
“Then how do you handle living in New York City? Isn’t that energy overload?”
Her mother had said the same thing when Liza begged to attend a college in the city. Mary O’Dowd had been certain her daughter would hate the noise and large crowds. Liza had wanted the chance to try it, but she had been overruled.
“My little corner of the Bronx isn’t so bad.” Rarely leaving her apartment also helped. “I couldn’t make regular visits to Times Square, but a walk to the store is fine. Do you remember the city at all?”
“Not much, but Mom moved back up there about nine years ago, so I’ve made the trip a few times.” He paused to pick up a stick and hurl it over Amos’s head. The dog ran full out to catch it in midflight.
“A few times doesn’t seem like much over nine years.” The moon shone brightly enough for Liza to spot a large shell in her path. She bent to retrieve it, turning it over in her hand and remembering the time she and Mom had collected seashells on a Nantucket beach. What she’d give to walk beside her again. “Don’t you miss her?”
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