by Sophie Moss
That was the last time she’d seen or spoken to him.
A car drove past, kicking up leaves. There was a part of her, a small part of her now, that hoped Will would reject the Hadleys’ new offer. But she knew the resort coming to this island was the only way she and Taylor would ever have any stability. The only reason today had been such a success was because of the influx of tourists from the fishing tournament. She didn’t know if the café would even make it through the winter.
Besides, even if Will accepted the Hadleys’ new offer and the resort did get built on the island, it wouldn’t be a regular Hadley Hotel. It would be a luxury resort operated by Morningstar. The chances of Blake being involved in the subsidiary’s operations were small. The chances of him being involved in this particular acquisition were even smaller.
There was no sense in panicking until she knew they would cross paths.
Letting out a breath, she watched a woman across the street decorating her front stoop with gourds and pumpkins. Halloween was only a few days away and she still needed to get Taylor a costume. Making a mental note to pick up some candy the next time she went to the store, she leaned her head against the porch railing. Her feet throbbed from being on them all day, but she still had a lot to do. As soon as she finished this cup of coffee…
She heard the dog before she saw it. The frantic scrape of toenails over the sidewalk gave way to an excited bark. She barely had time to react before Riley bounded up the steps and all eighty-five pounds of wet lab landed in her lap. Her coffee spilled, sloshing over her legs as Riley planted her muddy paws on her shoulders and showered her face with kisses.
“Riley, down!” Will was at her side an instant later, pulling the dog off of her and helping her to her feet. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, but his hands were all over her, brushing at the mud, making it difficult to concentrate.
“I’m so sorry.” His gaze dropped to the coffee stain seeping into the fabric of her gray pants. “I’ll buy you another pair.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, taking a step back. She was intensely aware of the way her skin warmed under his touch, the way her pulse jumped when his hands skimmed down her arms. She couldn’t help recalling how it had felt to kiss him that morning, the desire that had built inside her the moment he’d laid his lips on hers.
His eyes grew concerned. “Your hands are freezing. How long have you been out here?”
“Not that long,” she said, trying to ease her hands free. But she paused, remembering what Della had said earlier, that Will had lost his family on 9/11, that he’d joined the SEALs to go after the people who’d killed his mother and sister.
She thought of her own mother, a woman who’d never truly loved her, a woman who’d never even wanted her around most of the time. She thought of Blake, the father of her child, a man who’d offered her five hundred dollars in cash the day she’d told him she was pregnant to get rid of the “thing” inside her.
What would it feel like to be loved so much by someone that he would devote his entire life to going after the people who hurt you?
“Annie?” Will asked. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, taking another shaky step back. “Let me go upstairs and change. I’ll tell Taylor that Riley’s here.”
Will’s hands fell back to his sides and Annie turned, walking into the café. Climbing the stairs to her apartment, she saw that Taylor was still curled up on the couch watching her movie. Brushing a hand over her daughter’s wispy hair, she went into her bedroom and closed the door.
Leaning against it, she took a deep breath. Even if there was more to Will than he let on, even if what Della had said earlier was true—that he belonged here—it still didn’t change the fact that his life and career were in San Diego.
Just because being around him made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time, didn’t mean she needed to act on them. She needed to focus on Taylor, and on making sure the café survived through the winter.
Pushing off the door, she snagged a clean pair of jeans from the pile of laundry on her bed. She slipped them on and walked back out to the living room, checking her reflection in the mirror. “Have you decided what you want to be for Halloween?”
“A butterfly,” Taylor answered.
Annie smiled, smoothing out the wrinkles in her sweater. “What kind of butterfly?”
“A monarch,” Taylor said. “With orange wings.”
They would go shopping for wings tomorrow, Annie decided. In the meantime, there was someone downstairs she knew Taylor would want to see. Just because she didn’t know what to do about Will, didn’t mean Taylor shouldn’t get to spend time with his dog. “Guess who came to see you?”
“Who?”
“Riley.”
Taylor’s whole face lit up. “Riley’s here?”
Annie nodded.
Taylor grabbed her broom off the floor and scrambled off the couch, racing down the stairs to play with the dog.
Annie switched off the TV and followed her down the steps. Dogs and butterflies, she mused. After everything Taylor had been through, dogs and butterflies were what brought the most light back into her daughter’s eyes.
She wondered suddenly if that was why Will had asked to “borrow” Riley from his friend while he was here. If he had been in and out of war zones for the past ten years, carrying out some of the most dangerous missions in the military, he had probably seen more death and destruction than anyone should ever see in a lifetime.
Will may be a SEAL, but he was still human. No one could witness that much devastation without reacting to it, without internalizing it and needing to process it in some way.
She watched Taylor run out to the porch. Riley’s tail thumped against the floorboards as she rolled onto her back. Taylor dropped down beside the dog, rubbing Riley’s belly with both hands.
The pop and splatter of sizzling oil had her turning. The scene of Will behind the stove with a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, sliding chopped potatoes into a frying pan, caught her completely off guard. “What are you doing?”
“Making you and Taylor dinner,” he answered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Why?”
“Because when I walked up to your porch a few minutes ago, you looked like you were about to fall asleep. You need a break.”
She stared at him.
“What?” Will asked. “Surprised I can cook?”
“Well…yes,” she admitted, crossing the room to stand awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen.
“I’m not going to win any competitions, but I can fry up some fish and potatoes.”
Annie spied the cooler on the counter beside the stove. Three thick fillets rested on a bed of ice. She’d been serving rockfish all day, but she had yet to taste it. “Is it as good as everyone says?”
“You’ve never had rockfish?”
She shook her head.
“Best tasting fish in the world.”
She watched him dip each fillet into an egg and flour mixture. “Did you enter the tournament?”
“No. Most of the locals leave the competitions to the tourists. I went out for a few hours this afternoon on my friend Ryan’s boat. I think you met his twin sister, Grace, the other day.”
Annie nodded, reaching for the spatula to stir the potatoes.
He took it from her hand, setting it back in the pan. “You’re supposed to be taking a break.”
Annie bit her lip. She wasn’t used to people helping her, people doing things for her without being asked. Della had been a huge help over the past two weeks, but she was her employee. Even if she had gone above and beyond, at the end of the day, Annie was the one signing her paycheck.
She didn’t want Will doing things for her. She didn’t want to get used to this, to expect this from him. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Cook for us.”
“You need to eat, An
nie.”
“We were planning to eat.”
Will smiled and nudged her out of the way as he reached into the cupboard above her for a plate. “Think of it as payback for the chicken tenders.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d completely forgotten about that. She was surprised he’d remembered, and oddly touched that he’d thought to repay the favor.
Will laid the last fillet on the plate and poured the ice down the sink. “So how did it go today?”
“It went well,” she admitted. “Really well. Better than I expected.”
He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”
She watched him rummage through the spice rack, completely at ease in her kitchen. “Spencer came in earlier.”
“Did he?”
“He said he’d been trying to reach you.”
“I might have spoken with him today.”
“Will.”
“Annie,” he said, mocking her serious tone.
She angled her head. “He said they made you a new offer, one you couldn’t refuse.”
“He was wrong.” Will wiped his hands on the dishtowel. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“Even if they offer you—”
“Even if they offer me all the money in the world.” He turned to face her. “I won’t sell the inn to them, Annie. I know you want that resort to come here, but I can’t do it. I won’t let them tear down my grandparents’ home.”
At the sound of the door opening, his gaze shifted over her shoulder. His brown eyes warmed as Taylor and Riley walked inside. They wandered into the kitchen and Taylor climbed up onto the wooden stool beside the stove where she’d spent most of the day watching Della. She peered at the pan, inspecting the potatoes, then looked up at Will. “Why didn’t you come in for lunch today?”
“I was out fishing with a few friends.” Will slipped a piece of raw fish to Riley. “Your teacher, Becca, was one of them.”
“I’ve never been fishing,” Taylor said, holding her hands over the steam rising from the potatoes to warm them.
“Never?” Will asked.
Taylor shook her head.
“We’re going to have to change that, aren’t we?” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped through a few screens. “Here, I have pictures.”
He handed the phone to Taylor and Annie edged closer while her daughter scrolled through the shots. There were four of them on the boat: Grace, Becca, Will, and another man who she assumed must be Ryan. In every picture, they were laughing.
Will looked so carefree, so happy.
Annie thought back to what Della had said earlier, that she hadn’t seen Will happy in a very long time.
‘He belongs here.’ Della’s words floated back, and Annie felt a warm shiver dance up her spine as he slipped his arm around her shoulders, leaning close to see the screen.
“This one’s my favorite.” Will pointed to a picture of Ryan pretending to kiss a fish on the mouth.
“Ewww,” Taylor laughed, scrunching up her face. She scrolled to a new picture of Becca holding up an impossibly large fish. “That’s Miss Haddaway!”
“It is,” Will said, chuckling. “Your teacher caught the biggest fish of the day.”
Will squeezed Annie’s shoulders, and looked back at Taylor. “Maybe your mom would let me take you both out fishing sometime.”
Annie looked down at Taylor, who was gazing up at Will excitedly. “Can we go, mom?”
“We’ll see,” Annie said.
Will smiled, that slow easy smile that made her stomach flip-flop. He leaned down so his lips were only a breath away from her ear. “We’ll see,” he whispered, running his hand slowly down her back, “is almost a yes.”
Will didn’t get to take Annie and Taylor out fishing that week because the winds picked up and whipped white caps over the Bay for six solid days leading up to Halloween. Gray clouds blanketed the sky on the last day of October as Will walked into the kitchen at the inn, taking two cold beers from the fridge and handing one to Jimmy Faulkner. “How bad is it?”
Jimmy took the beer, twisting the top off and taking a long pull. “I’m not going to lie to you, Will. It’s pretty bad.”
Will looked out the window, where the branches of the trees bent in the strong gusts blowing across the yard. “How much are we talking about?”
“Eighty grand. Maybe more.”
“Shit.”
Jimmy strolled over to the sliding doors, running a hand over the curve in the wood at the top. “We could do some cosmetic patchwork, shore up the foundation a few inches. Hope the inspectors don’t catch it.” He walked out to the porch, lifting a rotted floorboard with his steel-toe boot. “But this entire porch needs to be replaced, and the roof is at least three years overdue to be re-shingled. I’m surprised it hasn’t already started leaking.”
It had, Will thought. It had started dripping in the attic the night before. He knew because he’d been lying awake in the room directly below when the storm had hit. The rain had only lasted an hour, but the dripping had gone on all night.
“How did the open house go?” Jimmy asked, letting the floorboard fall back into place.
“Not well,” Will admitted.
Despite Spencer’s protests, Will had hosted an open house for the inn a few days ago. He’d posted signs along the road and ran an ad in the local paper. But only one couple had shown up, and they hadn’t been serious about buying.
“I heard you got an offer from a resort company,” Jimmy said, strolling back into the kitchen.
Will nodded.
Jimmy leaned against the counter, taking another long sip of his beer. “You should consider taking it.”
“You think I should take it?” Will asked, surprised.
“It could mean a lot of work for my crew.”
Will set his beer down. “Morningstar wouldn’t hire a local crew to do the work. They’d bring in a team from the Western Shore, a big company with a national reputation.”
“To do the initial building, sure,” Jimmy agreed. “But after that there’d be regular maintenance and repairs, renovations they might want to hire a local contractor to complete.”
The wind battered the windows, snatching leaves from the branches of the trees. Will walked slowly over to the sliding glass doors leading out to the porch, dipping his hands in his pockets. Were there others who felt the same way Jimmy did, that the resort would bring jobs and opportunities to the island?
He knew Grace and Ryan were against it; they wanted to preserve the land for the islanders and the wildlife. Becca had been fairly neutral on the subject, and Della had said she’d support him in whatever decision he made.
The only people he knew wanted the resort to come here were Annie, Spencer, and Chase. But maybe there were others who hadn’t spoken up because they were afraid to, because they didn’t want to upset their friends and neighbors.
Surely, the owners of the shops on Main Street would benefit from an increase in tourism. The charter boat captains would have more people to take out on fishing trips. Even the watermen would benefit from a spike in the number of people who’d want to spend their weekends eating crabs and oysters they purchased straight from the docks.
Right now, there was more money on the table than he’d ever dreamed of making off his grandparents’ inn. He didn’t really need the money. He made a comfortable salary. His apartment in San Diego was subsidized by the military. He didn’t have any debt, and he’d built up a decent savings over the past ten years.
His retirement, if he made it to retirement, would be taken care of by the Navy. When the time came to make room for younger, faster guys on the teams, he’d planned to move into consulting and work for one of the firms who hired former operatives to carry out missions on a contract basis.
But if he took the money the resort company was offering, he wouldn’t have to take on contract work after he retired. He could buy a big house on the beach in San Diego and spend his free time sur
fing and fishing. But what was the point in having a big house if you didn’t have anyone to share it with? What was the point in having a yard if you didn’t have any kids or at least a dog to play in it?
All he wanted was to sell his grandparents’ house to a family who would restore the inn to its glory and care as much about the land and the islanders as their own profit margins. But he only had two weeks left to find a buyer. His time on the island was running out. He knew he couldn’t trust Spencer to find the right person after he left. He could hire another agent, but what if it took years for another offer to come along? What if the perfect buyer didn’t even exist?
How long was he going to hold onto this place, letting it rot down here at the end of the island, with the salt and the winds eating away at the siding?
Maybe all he had to do was sign on the dotted line and everyone would be better off.
Will looked back out the windows as a cluster of sailboats rounded a red buoy in the distance. Their white sails whipped in the wind as they picked up speed, heading back to one of the country clubs hosting the Friday night races. All he had to do was reach into his pocket, pull out his cell phone and give Spencer the word.
He could go back to San Diego, say goodbye to this house and this place forever.
He should just do it, make the call, get it over with.
A flock of barn swallows wheeled and dipped over the lawn, their high-pitched trills rising over the wind. Why couldn’t he bring himself to do it?
“How do they feel?” Annie asked, adjusting Taylor’s butterfly wings. “Too tight?”
Taylor flapped her elbows, testing the elastic straps around her arms. “They feel fine.”
She could hear the excitement in her daughter’s voice. They were downstairs in the café, waiting for Della, who’d insisted on coming with them trick-or-treating tonight. Taylor was wearing all black, with bright orange wings attached to her shoulders. A black headband with black pipe-cleaner antennae held her hair back from her face.
“There,” Annie said, putting the finishing touches on her wings as Della rushed in wearing an elaborate witch costume and carrying a broom just like Taylor’s.
