Home to Stay: Anchor Island 3

by Terri Osburn

  Nothing about a rough ex-boyfriend explained why she didn’t want to be recognized. And how would total strangers know her face anyway? As he opened his door and climbed into the truck, the truth dawned.

  That ex was looking for her.

  Didn’t explain how strangers would know her face, but the thought of some asshole hurting Will, then hunting her down like an animal, made him see red. A primal and wholly unfamiliar need to cause pain filled Randy’s limbs. He bit his tongue to keep from asking the questions.

  Who is he?

  Where is he?

  How do I find him and break both his legs?

  A sudden violent streak was the last thing he needed to show Will. Randy steadied his features and leveled his breathing. His grip on the steering wheel was tighter than necessary, so he concentrated on his knuckles, mentally loosening one at a time.

  They made the trip home in silence, Will lost in her own thoughts and Randy attuned to every breath she took. There were no scars on her face, so the damage had to be elsewhere. Not that most of the damage wasn’t mental. The idea that she believed Randy to be a monster simply because of his size made more sense now.

  And intensified his determination to show her differently.

  An hour into the drive, Will had finally managed to relax enough to notice the tension coursing through Randy. He played it off well, smiling at her on the rare occasions they made eye contact, but she wasn’t fooled. If he was wound up over her refusal to answer his questions, then that was his problem.

  She’d give anything to lay this burden on someone else’s shoulders, but that wouldn’t change the facts. Wouldn’t alter her reality in any way. Randy couldn’t storm up to Boston, kneecap Jeffrey, and release her from the constant fear of being found.

  If Will was certain of anything, it was that Randy would never kneecap anyone. Regardless of that muscle twitching in his jaw.

  They parted friendly enough. Will thanked him for lunch, realizing she was so off balance by what felt like a near miss that she hadn’t offered anything toward the restaurant bill. Randy thanked her for going, looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead nodded and closed the driver’s door on her VW Bus once she’d climbed in.

  He remained in the parking lot watching her drive away, fading in the distance in her rearview mirror. Such a strange day. The man managed to turn her on, piss her off, make her laugh, and dry her tears all in one afternoon. He probably assumed she was bipolar, or at least mildly unstable.

  Either way, the impression could not be good. Though why she cared, Will couldn’t say. Randy was a good guy. A kind man. Traits that made him a rare creature in her experience.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Tom said as Will stepped behind the bar. Speaking of kind men, Tom was another one. In fact, Anchor Island seemed to be a haven of good guys. Maybe that’s why she loved the place so much. “I take it our island giant will have a tuxedo for the big shindig?” her boss asked.

  “We’ll see in ten days,” Will said. “Considering the numerous ways that tailor invaded his space, I’d say Beth and Joe owe the giant a debt of gratitude for doing all this.” She dropped her purse and keys in a drawer under the register. “Sorry I’m so late. We stopped to eat and lost track of time.”

  “Not a problem.” Tom collected a stack of wet rags from the end of the counter. “There’s been a change in the schedule for tomorrow.”

  “You need me to change shifts?” Will didn’t usually work Sunday mornings after working late on Saturday, but she could do it if Tom needed her.

  “Nope.” A broad smile split his face. “You’re taking the day off.”

  Will stuttered. What the…“Why? I don’t need a day off.”

  “Yes, you do.” The rags dropped into a basket inside the kitchen. “You’ve been working too much. Lucas is covering your shift, and you’re going to take an entire day to do whatever you want.”

  She followed the older man into the kitchen. “But I want to work.” Will didn’t like having free time. It gave her too much time to think and only served as a constant reminder that outside of the jobs she did around the island, her life was empty.

  “Well, you’re not working here. At least not tomorrow.” Tom took her by the shoulders. “Will, relax. Breathe. Read a book. Watch a movie. It’ll be tough, but you can do it.”

  After a tap on her cheek, he moved into the office, Will still on his heels. “Have I done something wrong? Messed something up?”

  His brows shot up. “Where’s all the paranoia coming from? You’re a star employee. Think of this as your reward. I learned the hard way what working too much can get you.” He held a hand over his heart. “There are worse things to have than a day off. Now, I’m heading home to Patty.”

  “I’ll be here early Monday,” Will said, hurtling the words at Tom’s retreating form.

  “I’m sure you will,” he said. “Now get out there. You’ve got customers.”

  Rebecca King awoke on her last day on Anchor Island with a smile on her face. She’d taken this assignment expecting to find a hole-in-the-wall vacation spot she could make sound like paradise. Instead she was leaving with the key to her future.

  “You ready?” Jude asked, knocking on her open balcony door, duffel in hand.

  “Yes, I am,” she answered, then noticed the dark circles under her colleague’s eyes. “If you feel like you look, this is going to be a long day for you.”

  “I feel worse.” Jude dropped onto the ottoman inside the door. “Decided to party it up with some tourists last night. Forgot I’m not as young as I used to be. Why are you so chipper?” he asked. “Was this assignment so awful that you’re happy to be leaving?”

  Rebecca slid her laptop into its case. “Not awful at all. In fact, this is the assignment that will change my life.”

  Jude narrowed his eyes. “I must be more hungover than I thought. I didn’t hear any sarcasm in that comment.”

  “Are you going to be sick? I don’t want you puking in the car.”

  “You’re up to something.” Jude returned to his feet, pausing to hold his head. “Bloody hell, that hurts.” Once his color returned to normal, he trailed behind her. “What evil deed are you concocting? You’re like a Disney villainess. Destroying someone is the only thing that makes you smile like that.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. She wasn’t destroying anyone. Simply reporting the truth about someone who might not want the truth revealed. Wasn’t that a reporter’s job?

  “You have such a high opinion of me, Jude. It’s a wonder we don’t work every assignment together.”

  “If that’s a threat, it’s just mean. Now tell me what blew sunshine up your arse in the last twenty-four hours.” Jude pulled the hotel room door closed behind him. “You weren’t this cheerful yesterday.”

  Yesterday she hadn’t found the answer yet. Today was a different story. Literally.

  “Can’t a girl be in a good mood?”

  “A girl, yes. A she-cat with a mean streak, no,” Jude said. “Spill.”

  There were only so many insults Rebecca was willing to tolerate, even in her current positive state. “Shove it, Jude. There. You happy? Feel free to sleep all the way back to the airport.”

  “Now that sounds more like the Rebecca I know and love.” The smarmy Brit pushed the button for the elevator. “Sleeping will not be a problem. Standing for very long is another story.” Dropping his duffel and camera bag to the floor, Jude took a seat in a chair along the wall.

  Rebecca ignored him. Not even Jude Sykes could ruin this for her. Willow Parsons was her ticket to the big time. Or rather, Maria Van Clement was.

  By noon on Sunday, Will had been to the coffee shop, the real estate office, and Lola’s art store, but no one needed her to work. This was why she needed a hobby. In the last three years she’d done nothing but work. That’s what she was used to doing. Who she was.

  Growing up with a mother who never worked, cleaned house, or boiled water, let alone cooked a mea
l, had in some reverse-psychology way instilled a strong work ethic in Will’s brain. She’d made sure the bills were paid, food was in the house, and clean clothes were in the drawers. It wasn’t so much that her mother was lazy; she’d just been raised a certain way. When you’ve had servants from the day you were born, doing for yourself is as foreign as living on the moon.

  Will considered going to Dempsey’s but knew Tom would only kick her out. Why they were so damn determined to make her take time off was a mystery. Beth was the pregnant stress ball, not Will. A week with a reporter breathing down her neck had made her a little tense, and whatever sparks were flying between her and Randy didn’t help, but they wouldn’t blame her for being wound too tight if they knew why these things bothered her.

  Not that she could tell any of them.

  “An extra pair of hands, willing and able,” Will yelled as she stepped through the open garage door of Sid’s under-construction business. The mechanic was perched on a tall ladder working on some kind of pulley contraption.

  “Those hands are not wanted here,” Sid yelled back, keeping her eye on the task at hand. “I’m under direct orders not to let you work today.”

  Tom had her blackballed? That was low.

  “Come on,” Will whined. “I have to do something. Let me hold the ladder. Anything!”

  Sid finally turned to face her. “What is wrong with you? Most people would love a day off. Hell, some people purposely take days off just to fart around.” She began to climb down. “It’s a nice day. Go sit in the park, or read on the sand.”

  Didn’t Sid realize that sitting still, even with a book, wasn’t an option? Will needed to be doing something. Planning something.

  Wait. The wedding. All those details Randy mentioned.

  “Do you know if Randy is home?”

  Sid’s eyes went wide. “Who are you?”

  Will shook her head. “What?”

  “The Will I know wouldn’t spend an entire day with my brother and then purposely go see him again the next day.” Sid pulled a large handkerchief from her back pocket and wiped her hands. “Did something happen yesterday? I told him to woo you, but I didn’t think he’d do it.”

  “You what?” Woo her? Didn’t wooing lead to marriage? There would be no wooing. “Why would you do that?”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Sid said, holding up her hands. “He was asking some questions about you and I thought he might be interested. Since both of you could use some mattress dancing, I encouraged him.”

  Mattress dancing? Where did she get this shit? “You know how I feel about your brother. Why do you think I’d want to be wooed by him?” Will couldn’t believe she’d used that word.

  “I have no idea how you feel about my brother. He’s never done anything to deserve the cold shoulder you gave him for so long.” Sid shoved the handkerchief back in her pocket and advanced on Will. “You’ve been talking lately, even spent the entire day together, and I didn’t hear that anything horrible happened.”

  “The day wasn’t bad,” Will admitted, reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean—”

  “Randy is a great guy,” Sid continued, cutting her off. “I found my happy with Lucas, and I want to see my brother find his happy, too.” One pointy finger poked Will’s chest. “You’d be lucky to have him.”

  Blinking, Will rubbed the spot where Sid had poked. “That might be the sweetest, most girly thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  “You’ve insulted my brother. Don’t start insulting me.”

  Will sighed. “You need to learn how to take a compliment.”

  Sid tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “Tell me my truck kicks ass, or my garage is killer. Those are compliments.”

  Throwing an arm around her friend’s shoulders, Will said, “You have the most badass truck on this island. And this garage is going to rock.” Giving her a squeeze, she asked, “Better?”

  Brown eyes the same color as Randy’s narrowed. “Are you hugging me?”

  Will tensed. “Maybe.” She loosened her grip and put distance between them, not interested in another poke.

  “Are you going to see Randy?” Sid asked.

  “I have to do something, and he’s got the info I need to lock down the final details on Beth and Joe’s wedding.”

  Sid walked behind the counter on the left side of the room and pulled out a large envelope. “Could you give him this?”

  “Sure,” Will said, tucking the envelope under her arm. “Do I need to give him a message with it?”

  “Nah.” Sid went back to the ladder. “But do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?” Will asked, tilting her head back to follow Sid’s ascent.

  The mechanic stopped halfway up and turned. “Make him open it while you’re there. I don’t want him to be alone when he sees it.”

  That meant whatever was inside was either bad news or a sad memory. The thought of being Randy’s emotional support wasn’t something Will relished, but she’d do it for her friend. Both the one before her and the one she was going to see.

  “Fine, I’ll do it. But I’ll need his address.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Randy swept the mess onto the dustpan and emptied it into the garbage. That was the one negative about living on an island. Sand. The stuff was pervasive, and though he swept the wood floors daily, there was always more the next day.

  Sunday was his day to clean the house and work on the business financials. He’d been at them all morning, taking a much-needed break to do the floors. When swinging a broom was more attractive than staring at financial reports, things were not looking good.

  Someone knocked at his front door as Randy pulled the garbage bag from the can in the kitchen. Odd, since he wasn’t expecting anyone. Even more odd when he spotted Will through the glass, waving from the other side.

  “Hey there,” he said, pushing the screen door open. “Come on in.”

  Randy hadn’t entertained a female in his house in longer than he could remember. At least one to whom he wasn’t related. Sid came over often enough, usually to bust his chops and mooch his food. Though that cut back when Lucas moved in with her. From what Randy heard, the lawyer could turn out a gourmet meal with the best of them.

  Will stepped into the foyer carrying a large envelope and a day planner. He closed the door and turned to find her standing wide eyed, staring into his living room. She looked great. Dark jeans that tapered into heavy black boots. Long dark waves draped across the shoulders of her denim jacket.

  “You can go on in,” he said, feeling like a teenage boy staring at the hottest girl in school. A role he was too damned old to play. “Unless you aren’t here to stay.”

  “Well…I…” She pointed to the open space beyond them. “Did I step through some kind of portal? Because there’s no way a house on Anchor looks like this.”

  Contrary to most everyone else on the island, Randy didn’t go for the beach cottage look. He liked clean lines, limited decor, and solid, neutral colors. Sid often told him the place looked like a cross between a hospital and a museum, but he felt at home in the minimalist setting.

  “You’re still on Anchor.” He felt like an idiot hovering in the entryway and needed something to do with his hands before he reached out to test the softness of her curls. “Can I take your jacket?”

  Will sloughed off the denim while keeping her eyes on the living room. “This could be in a magazine. A very chic, modern design magazine.” She moved toward the metal-frame coffee table as Randy hung her jacket on a hook near the door. “It’s like Zen meets understated simplicity. Masculine without the sports pennants and oversized furniture.”

  “Do you expect every man’s home to look like a frat house?” he asked, following her into the living room, trying to keep his eyes at shoulder height. He considered asking what kind of men she spent time with but remembered that was not a positive subject.

  Will moved to the fireplace, running a finger along his newest acqui
sition—the statue from Lola’s that had reminded him of her. He’d actually swung over to buy it after Will had left the day before.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, in hushed tones. “A touch of feminine curves in a room filled with hard lines.”

  “It’s from Lola’s,” he explained, leaving out his impetus for buying it. He had yet to learn why she was there. No need to scare her away before they’d even sat down. “Not that I don’t appreciate the company, but is there a reason for this unexpected visit?”

  “Oh.” Will turned, holding up the items she’d tucked beneath one arm. “I came to get those details you mentioned yesterday. The deck dimensions and stuff for the wedding.” She extended an envelope his way. “But first, Sid asked me to give you this. Tom insisted I take today off, and I’m not used to sitting still, so I’ve been all over the island trying to find someone who would let me work, with no takers,” she rambled. “Sid said no, too.”

  “So that makes me your last option?” he asked, taking the envelope and dropping it onto the coffee table. “Flattering.” Though he was happy to even be on her list.

  “She asked that I have you open that while I’m here,” Will said, shuffling her feet and looking everywhere but at Randy. “Said you’d need a friend around when you saw it.”

  Sid’s request piqued his curiosity, but not as much as the implication that Will was willing to be the friend in this scenario. “Have you had lunch?” he asked. “I’ve got some chili I made last night ready to heat up.”

  “I’m guessing it’s meat-free?”

  He padded barefoot into the kitchen. “Yes, ma’am. And you’ll never miss it.”

  Will took a seat at the island. “I’m game.” She dropped the planner on the counter, crossing her arms over it. “I didn’t even think to ask if I was interrupting something. I’d have called first, but Sid doesn’t have a phone in yet at the garage.”