by Tracy Brogan
Yes, he knew. He just didn’t care. No enough to stop kissing her. “Those are just details. We can talk about that stuff later.”
That hand on his chest stayed put. “I like you, Ryan. I really do, but the last time I got kissed at the top of this stupid lighthouse, I totally lost my head and made some really bad decisions. I shouldn’t have brought you up here.”
He didn’t like the sound of regret in her voice. “I’m glad you brought me up here, and I’m not trying to sway you to do anything you don’t want to do. I just really want to kiss you.”
“Oh, swaying me would not be much of a challenge at the moment. I would very much like to continue on with this little escapade, but the timing is bad, and the obstacles are big, and I have a lot going on in my life right now that needs . . . fixing. I can’t get distracted from that. As much as I would like to be distracted.”
Now, see? This was where men and women differed. If he wanted to be distracted from his troubles, Emily Chambers would be the first person on this island he’d call. In fact, she’d be the only person he’d call. She might even be the person he called when he wasn’t on this island. But women liked to have everything organized and labeled before the enjoyable and entertaining distractions began. That never did make sense to him, but it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it.
He leaned back against the ledge and window again, keeping one arm around her waist. “What needs fixing? Stuff with Chloe’s dad? Or your dad?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s not personal stuff so much as it is professional stuff. I need this island renovation to go well. Like I really need it go to well, and . . .” She hesitated, as if weighing her words and deciding if she could trust him or not. “Can you keep a secret?”
“I can say without reservation that I keep secrets better than any person on this island.”
That scored him a weak smile from Emily. “I have a flip house back in San Antonio that my business partner is trying to sell, and the place has been a nightmare since the moment we got the keys. Because of all the problems we had with it, well, I ended up a little overextended. Financially speaking. I borrowed some money from Gigi, and that’s why I’m renovating her cottage for her. Sort of my down payment on the money I owe her.” She looked relieved to have told him, but added, “But no one knows. Just me and Gigi, so please don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell your dad because he might tell my sister, and then she’ll tell everyone else. And see? That’s why we can’t kiss each other. Because if I keep kissing you, I’ll keep telling you secrets and then you’ll tell me secrets and then we’ll both be keeping secrets from our families and it will all get too confusing.”
“We don’t have to tell secrets. We don’t have to talk at all. We could just, you know, kiss . . . and stuff.”
That earned him a roll of her eyes. He thought his solution was pretty practical, but she wasn’t going for it. He stood up and pulled her with him, his hands resting loosely on her hips as she faced him. “Emily, is it possible you might be overthinking this just a little bit?”
It took a moment for her to meet his eyes, and the faintest tilt of a smile crossed over her lips.
“Maybe. Probably. But until I know for sure, there should be no more kissing.” She sounded very prim, like a teacher telling him to shush. He felt duly reprimanded but not at all as if he’d learned his lesson.
“Just one more?” he said, holding up his thumb and index finger to indicate tiny. Oh so small. “Just one more little one? I don’t think that was my best work, and what if this is the only time we ever kiss? Then you’ll go on for the rest of your life thinking that’s the best I can do. I don’t think my ego can take that.”
He sure as hell hoped this wouldn’t be the only time they ever kissed. In fact, he was going to make damn sure of it, and then some. But for the moment, this angle was going to work for him. He could see her indecision. He leaned closer, his lips nearly touching hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as he whispered against her mouth, “Just one more.”
Chapter 21
“I will take the damn yoga class, Emily, because a deal is a deal, and yes, I think Yoga Matt is cover model material, but don’t think I’m going to forget all about Tag just because of some sexy yoga instructor. Besides, even if I did like him, I’d be waiting behind about fifteen other women. He’s like the pied piper around here. Haven’t you seen all the future Mrs. Yoga Matts lining up?”
Emily and Lilly were walking down Anishinaabe Trail on their way to Monday evening yoga at the Episcopal church, and according to Emily’s friends from drunk puzzle night, Matt was very hands-on with his instructions. So much so that several of them did positions wrong on purpose just so that he’d come and adjust their pelvis.
But Emily didn’t want Yoga Matt adjusting her pelvis. The only person she wanted anywhere near her pelvis was Ryan. Holy hell. What was she going to do about that? They’d kissed for half an hour at the top of that lighthouse Saturday night, and if it weren’t for a group of unruly teenage boys riding by on bikes, hooting and hollering and cheering them on, they might be there still. That’s just what she needed. Local kids seeing her fooling around in public and word getting back to her dad. At least they weren’t spotted by Dmitri Krushnic.
After that, Ryan had walked her back to Main Street and offered to go with her all the way to Gigi’s house, but she’d told him no. She needed to get her bearings before facing her grandmother because Gigi would take one look at her face and know she’d been up to something. The woman couldn’t see well enough to pick out matching shoes, but she’d spot those invisible kisses from a mile away.
Sunday at church had been particularly painful. Father O’Reilly droned on about . . . something. Emily hadn’t been listening. She was too busy fantasizing about Ryan showing up at her cottage with a picnic basket full of grapes and cheese and wine and seducing her on the front porch, which was a ridiculous and impractical fantasy because whenever she was at the cottage, she was grimy and sweaty and wearing her rattiest clothes, and she’d never have sex on the front porch where anyone could see them. So she’d start the fantasy over where somehow she was at the cottage but freshly showered and wearing a sundress and Ryan wouldn’t bring cheese because that kind of stuck to her teeth and would ruin the kissing part of the fantasy. But then Tiny or Horsey or Georgie would show up and spoil everything. Seriously? What was the matter with her? Even in her own fantasies she could not overcome the roadblocks. It was as if God had put a mental firewall up in her brain because she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about sex in church.
It didn’t help her any that Ryan and his dad had been sitting three rows in front of them, and Ryan’s hair was still just a little bit damp from his morning shower. She’d really wanted to touch it and run her fingers through it. She knew how soft it was because she’d had a fistful of it at the top of the lighthouse, and her palms longed to feel it again. So she’d clasped her hands together in church instead, hoping to appear pious and prayerful instead of horny and desperate, and when Ryan and his father left right after the service, she wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or glad.
He’d texted her later that day, saying he and Tag were flying over to Seneca Falls in Northern Michigan to spend a couple of days fly-fishing, which left her feeling equal parts relieved and flustered. Relieved that she wouldn’t have to decide if she could, should, would kiss him again, and flustered by the fact that she wanted to so very badly.
Now it was Monday evening, and Emily was hoping some mountain pose would bring her peace of mind. Maybe she’d let Matt adjust her pelvis after all. So what if he was her employee? So what if it was really Lilly she was hoping he’d be interested in? That had been her goal for this evening, after all. One last, last-ditch effort to redirect her sister’s affection toward someone her own age, but after tonight she was pretty much giving up on that. Since everyone in town knew, and no one seemed in a rush to tell Harlan, Emily didn’t think that any of her superficial efforts were going to make an imp
ression on her sister.
They turned the corner on Marquette. “Okay, okay,” Emily said to Lilly. “I’m not trying to force you, but like you said, a deal is a deal. I went horseback riding and spent time with Tag, just like you asked.”
Lilly scoffed. “Sure you did, and you told Percy to give us the worst horses ever. I figured that out before we even left the barn.”
“I didn’t tell him that, exactly, and anyway, I was just trying to create some negative associations and redirect the dopamine in your brain,” Emily said, sounding terse and slightly ridiculous.
“The what now?”
“Nothing. Just some stupid TED Talk. Never mind. Anyway, I’m not trying to talk you out of this anymore. I’ve told you what I think, and now it’s up to you to make those decisions. Just keep in mind that Dad will have a very hard time with this, and it’s important for you to think about five to ten years from now.”
“What happens in five to ten years?”
“In ten years, Tag will be almost seventy, and you’ll be thirty-six.”
“I can do math, Emily. I know how old we’ll be, but what else will happen?”
“Well, I don’t know exactly. That’s the whole point. You need to think about what you want your life to look like in the future, and decide if Tag fits what you’ll want then.”
A frown creased Lilly’s smooth forehead. “Does your life look the way you thought it would look ten years ago?”
Emily sighed. “Not even a little bit. That’s why I’m trying to warn you now. I didn’t set a good example, but at least I can be your cautionary tale. Tag’s talking about retiring and moving. Those are huge steps, and you’ve only known each other for such a short time.”
“It’s not the amount of time you spend with someone that matters, though. It’s how that time makes you feel.”
Emily didn’t even try to hide her disdain over that Hallmark card comment. “That’s cute, Lilly, but it’s just not true. I’m worried you’ll have regrets later.”
“But who’s to say I wouldn’t have regrets if Tag leaves my life, I never see him again, and I never, ever meet anyone else who makes me feel the way he does?”
Well, shit. That was a very valid question, and one for which Emily had no answer. The truth was, Ryan had made her feel pretty damn good on top of that lighthouse. He pretty much made her feel good every time he was around. What if she never met anyone else who made her feel that way ever again? Maybe she was sacrificing a chance at something good just because there was a chance it might go bad. Now she was even more confused.
“You do realize that pretty much everyone knows, right?” Emily said a moment later. Lilly stopped short, right in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Everyone knows? About me and Tag? Has anyone told Dad?”
“Is Dad still speaking to you?”
“Yes.”
“Then no one has told him.”
They started walking again. “Everyone?” asked Lilly.
“According to Brooke, who heard it from Gigi, who heard it from Maggie Schofield, and so on, and so on. I have to imagine that Dmitri Krushnic is patient zero, but he wasn’t the only witness in that pie tent.”
“What are people saying about us?”
“That I don’t know. I don’t imagine I’d be the one they’d come to.”
They walked in silence for another few minutes, before Lilly said, “Well, it’s nobody’s business but mine and Tag’s, and if people know, then maybe we can stop being sneaky. I didn’t tell Dad on Father’s Day because you told me not to, but maybe it’s time to go public.”
“Mmmmm . . . I don’t know about that. Denial is a beautiful thing, and as long as you and Tag are keeping things on the down-low, it maintains a balance in the Force, you know? I still think you should give this whole situation a little more time before throwing it in Dad’s face.”
“Throwing it in Dad’s face? That’s not a very nice way to put it.”
“I know, but that’s how he’ll take it. He’s going to be embarrassed, Lilly. This will be awkward for him. Don’t you remember how he was when he caught me skinny-dipping with Nick?”
“But my situation with Tag is different.”
Sure it was. It was worse. There was just no way Harlan was not going to be upset, but Lilly suddenly seemed so sad that Emily slung an arm around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to drag you down. I know what it feels like to disappoint Dad, but who knows? Maybe he’ll be fine with it?” Sure he would. “And anyway, word at drunk puzzle night is that Matt has magic hands. You’ll feel better after yoga.”
Saint Augustine Episcopal Church’s hall was full of women and a smattering of men when they arrived minutes later. Emily dragged Lilly right up to the front and wiggled them in between Gloria Persimmons and Jenny Mahoney. Jenny gave them a dirty look, and Emily wasn’t sure if it was because they’d nudged her to the side or simply because they were Callaghans. Either way, Emily and Lilly were now front and center.
“Hey, boss lady!” Matt waved, earning her a few more hard stares. She waved back as he came over to them.
“Hey, Matt. Have you met my sister Lilly? Lilly, this is Matt.”
He turned up his dazzling smile, placed his palms together, and bent slightly.
“Namaste, Lilly.”
Lilly looked back at him. “Uh-huh,” she said, and Emily noted that her sister was not as immune as she’d expected to be. Yoga Matt was just that hot.
“I’m so glad you’re both here. May this bring you peace and fulfillment.”
“Okay,” Lilly answered, and Emily smiled. Matt was so pretty he did take a little getting used to.
“Okay, dear friends,” he called out, turning around and heading to the front of the room, “we are gathered here to celebrate. Celebrate our bodies and all the wonderful things they can do. Who would like to join me?”
A chorus of “Me. Me,” echoed through the church hall.
Lilly leaned toward Emily’s ear. “I volunteer as tribute.”
Emily smiled. “I told you.”
“Yes, you did, and you were right, but I’m still not giving up Tag.”
Chapter 22
“I am impressed!” Brooke said as she stood inside the cottage, admiring the progress Emily and her crew had made.
It was Wednesday morning, and Emily hadn’t heard from Ryan since that brief text Sunday, which shouldn’t bother her, because, you know, they’d agreed to not do the kissing thing again. Nonetheless, she missed him. She didn’t want to miss him, but she did.
Fortunately, the praise from her sister lightened her mood considerably, and Emily had to admit, the place was starting to shape up. The outside had been scraped, power-washed, and repainted with a pale green and lavender palette that would have looked garish anyplace else, but it fit in on the island quite nicely. All the floors had been stripped and refinished to a nice glossy sheen, and modern wallpaper with a vintage design was up in most of the rooms. Even some of the new furniture had arrived, including several wrought iron beds and mattresses, charmingly distressed bureaus that Emily had found at the antique shops in town, a red velvet sofa, and even an old pianoforte.
“Thank you. It has come a long way,” Emily agreed, looking around.
“No kidding. The last time I was here, a family of raccoons was living in one of the upstairs bedrooms. They’re gone, right?”
“They must have moved on to nicer accommodations before I got here. Come sit outside. Tiny just added a porch swing. You may christen it with your butt because no one has sat there yet.”
“My butt is honored.”
Emily grabbed two bottles of water from the newly installed refrigerator and joined her sister on the porch.
Brooke sank down on the swing with a relaxed sigh and accepted the bottle of water. “It’s really nice here, Em. You have done an amazing job. Gigi needs you to remodel all of her places. What do you think of that?”
“I think it would be ha
rd to do from San Antonio.” She sat down next to her sister.
“Mmm, I suppose.” Brooke opened her bottle and took a sip as she gazed off toward the lake. “How are you and Dad getting along? It seems like some of the tension is gone.”
“Some of it is. He likes Chloe. That helps. They’ve even gone hiking together, so apparently he can be nice to her without actually forgiving me, which is good enough.”
“I think he forgave you a long time ago. I’m certain he’s glad you’re here, not that he’d ever say so.”
“Certain?” Emily crooked an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty strong word.”
Brooke smiled back. “Okay, ninety-nine point nine percent certain that he’s glad you’re here. I know I’m glad you’re here. It’s been nice to have you around again.”
Brooke was as effusive with her feelings and compliments as their father was, so this was a big statement from her, and whether it was from the soothing motion of the swing, the nostalgia of sitting next to her sister, or Brooke’s nice words, Emily realized she felt the same way.
“I’m glad I’m here, too. This summer has gone better than I’d expected, in spite of all the hard work at this place.” She motioned with her thumb, pointing at the door. “Chloe and I have managed to have a little fun, too. Hey, speaking of fun, Gloria told me she’s hosting drunk puzzle night next week. You should come.”
Brooke shook her head. “Sorry. Can’t. I’m fun-repellant.”
Emily laughed. “You are not. Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not silly. That’s my whole point, and drunk puzzle night is all about being silly. Hey, isn’t that Ryan?” Brooke leaned forward from her spot on the swing to look down the hill.
Ryan? The long-lost Ryan who had kissed her senseless on Saturday but hadn’t called her since? Emily stood up, and sure enough, there he was coming up the hill. She leaned against the railing and waved. He waved back and she nearly giggled, forgetting for the moment that her sister was there, until Brooke uttered, “Oh shit. Not you too? Don’t we have enough to worry about with Tag and Lilly?”
