by Evie Jordan
“Um…” A sniff. A pause. “I can’t believe you answered.”
“What? Why?” She sat on the bed. “What’s up?”
“I’ve been trying to call, and…” There was a thickness that Katy recognized in her best friend’s voice.
“Whoa…Olivia…” She sat on the bed, her heart sinking. “What happened?”
“Charlie and I split, and now I’m home, and I swear I can feel…I feel…”
Olivia’s single rebellious move had been to marry a guy no one had ever met. That no one in their large circle of friends and family knew. A perfectly average guy, who had seemed nice enough, if a little rough around the edges. As much as Katy appreciated Liv finally stepping outside of her family’s expectations, Charlie wasn’t who she’d have picked for her friend.
“You feel like everyone who sees you is dying to say, I told you so.”
“Umm…hmm…” Liv whined.
This wasn’t a conversation Katy could rush. She stretched her legs over the duvet and leaned against the wall. “I have all night, Liv. Tell me everything.”
Katy put her last bit of clothing in her duffel, her gut heavy with the way she’d be leaving Regan and Colby in the lurch, but she couldn’t stay here, when her friend so clearly needed her there.
“No!” Colby yelled from somewhere outside. “You tore up the trails, and we have two cabins rented starting tomorrow!”
“I’ll fix them! Chill!” Trace yelled back.
Katy froze in her tracks. She’d been the one to drive fast, to drift sideways…the torn-up trails were her fault. She cringed.
The cabins were ready for guests, at least.
“You’re just pissy because our investors would probably do better with some kind of report.”
“But we really don’t have much to give them, do we?” Colby countered.
“I told you,” Trace said. “You have got to hire out some of the work here. There will be plenty of manly things for you to do, Colby. But if you and I want to keep doing what we love doing, we have to present something concrete. You can stay here. I’ll fly up in a few weeks. Mr. Mason has a place on Martha’s Vineyard, and our other biggest investor is there with him. I can give them a run-down of what’s coming next, but we have to work together.”
Colby groaned.
Mr. Mason on Martha’s Vineyard? Investor? It had to be Olivia’s dad. So, their main investor was a guy whose daughter she loved, and whose son she’d dated one summer. He was a nice man, if the person speaking knew which buttons to push.
She came around the corner to see the two guys standing on the dock, arms folded, both staring out at the ocean. Shoulders stiff.
“I know Mr. Mason,” she said. “I can give you some pointers.”
“Seriously?” Colby asked.
Trace stared with jaw slack.
“I can also help with the trails,” she said. “And the two rooms are ready.”
“You don’t have to help with the trails.” Colby shook his head. “They’re not your—”
“Actually…”
“It was me,” Trace said. “I just wanted to stretch my buggy’s legs a bit.”
Trace was taking the brunt of Colby’s anger for her.
“And for the record,” she said. “For whatever my opinion is worth, I do think that hiring some people from Nassau to do some of the heavy work would be smart. They have more experience with heights, and you and your girlfriend need your brain to be intact.”
Colby’s shoulder’s sloped, and he scratched his head. “Yeah. You two are probably right.”
A quick nod and smile from Trace said he was grateful for her input.
Regan stepped onto the porch, iPad cradled in her arm. “I’m trying to get set up to pay you,” she said to Katy. “You’re Katherine Dobbs, yes?”
She blanched. Downside of not paying in cash. “That’s me.”
“Dobbs.” Trace’s kid-smile was back. The one that had irritated her on the day she stepped off the sailboat, but one that today she loved. “We had a Dobbs toaster and a Dobbs microwave, and a Dobbs mixer…Dobbs everything.”
Dear God, I don’t pray much, but I’d really rather my face not show what I’m currently thinking or feeling…
Trace’s cackle said otherwise. “Holy what. That’s your family, isn’t it?”
Heat raced up her cheeks as all three pairs of eyes rested on her. “It’s not that big a deal.”
Colby coughed. “Why on earth do you want to work here? I can’t imagine that you need to.”
“Why are you building houses?” she asked.
“Because it’s my place,” he said.
“And I like it because it’s not my place.” If that was any way to describe how she felt. She didn’t want to work the family business. The work side. The design side. That’s what had always set Dobbs apart—interesting colors, funky lines…appliances but fun. Just because she had the eye, didn’t mean she wanted to live the life.
“I’ll get started on the trails. I saw rakes on the far side of the shed.” She spun and headed for the shed, but just as she’d known would happen, she heard footsteps running to catch up.
“So…” Trace started.
“Can we not talk about my family?” she asked.
Warm fingers grasped her arm and she stopped.
“That bad?” he asked, his head cocked to the side.
“It’s like growing up in a fishbowl where you’re supposed to stay in the castle to be looked at. And…I was tired of being looked at.” Olivia was feeling that judgment keenly, which meant Katy really had to get going, but she wasn’t going to let Trace clean up the trails alone.
Trace licked his lips. “I’m glad I didn’t grow up with money. I mean, I wasn’t when I was fifteen and working twenty hours a week to save up for a car, but now…”
There was no way he could wholly understand, but that was okay. He was trying.
He grabbed two rakes and she followed him up the trail. “You know the trail is my mess.”
“But I want to help.”
“Liar.”
Trace stopped, a hand on each rake. “Helping you fix trails, means I get to hang out with you. So yeah, I want to help.”
She snatched a rake from him.
“Also.” He chuckled. “It’s keeping me off building those damn cabins.”
Her mouth tugged into a smile as she smoothed over the first patch of dug-out sand. And then her conversation with Olivia shattered her peace. Emotion swelled in her throat. “I have to go home.”
His rake stopped. “When?”
“I don’t want to leave Regan in the lurch, but…” But her best friend was going through something like hell, and she couldn’t leave her to do that alone.
He waved her down, stepped forward and swiped at her cheek.
She was crying? Seriously? That fast?
“I’ll help wash sheets or whatever, okay? Do you need a plane? I could charter a flight, or…”
“I can use the…” Did she really want him to know how little she needed this job? “…family plane, but thanks.”
His rake dropped to the ground and he tugged her toward him until she rested against his chest. “I hate seeing you hurt, Katy,” he whispered.
The easy way his arms circled around her, cleared away some of the thickness in her throat. “You’re not supposed to feel so good so fast.”
“Actually.” The tease was back in his voice. “That’s exactly what I’ve been going for.”
Katy’s heart ached for her best friend and the guy who held her. For the first time in over a month, the pull for home grew. But home meant she’d have to choose between the woman she was now, and the girl she’d been when she left. If she acted and dressed and relaxed at home, the way she did here, her parents would assume she was trying to pull some kind of stunt, rather than bringing her real self into their world. But the thought of wearing her old clothes and doing her old makeup and hair routine made her want to curl up in a closet.<
br />
“Worry practically radiates off you,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…”
“But.” She leaned back and peered up at him. “But I need to go home.” She wasn’t ready, but then, she hadn’t quite been ready for Trace either.
“I can stay and make sure that Regan and Colby aren’t left in the lurch without you.”
“Thanks,” she squeaked.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed. His attention flitted to the side before his eyes trained on her again. “Will you answer when I call?”
She pressed her lips to his. “Yes.”
“Go home to your friend, Katy, but know I’m gonna show up on your doorstep.”
Taking a long breath in, Katy reveled in the way his body felt against hers, the Caribbean air on her skin, and the breeze in her hair. They’d just gotten started and now she was taking off. Guess she didn’t have to worry about getting attached after all.
Chapter Eleven
Katy had left only hours ago, and if it weren’t for the few jobs Trace had promised to finish up for her, he’d be going crazy staying on Paradise Island without her.
Picking up another nail, he pounded the new sign into the post that he’d placed earlier in the week. The pile of older, childish signs sat on the ground, and Katy’s simple lettering now graced the subtle arrows. He checked the iPad again, to make sure each arrow pointed in the right direction before gathering up the garbage, firewood for that night’s fire probably, and climbing back into his dune buggy to do the next juncture and set of signs.
Just as he’d finished the next, following Katy’s precise instructions, Colby walked around the corner, face and shoulders wet with sweat.
“You gotta hire more out, man,” Trace said as he tossed the old signs into the back of his dune buggy.
Colby swiped at his forehead. “The signs look good.”
“Katy gave good instructions.” He released a sigh. “She felt bad about taking off.”
Colby shrugged. “It’s not like she needs the money.”
That was true. And even though they were on equal footing, if that kind of thing mattered since they’d come from such different places.
“You miss her.”
“Yeah.” There was no arguing, and why would he anyway?
“Let’s get to work and maybe you can catch up with her when you have your meeting with Mr. Mason, huh?”
Weeks away.
Trace nodded dumbly. “I have two more junctions to go. Then the signs will be done.”
Colby eyes the signs in the vehicle. “I gotta talk to Regan about a few things before guests arrive.”
Once again, Trace’s attention went to the map. Katy leaving wasn’t fair. There was something between them he’d never felt before. How could her life take her away from him now? Yes, this thought was wholly selfish, but shouldn’t he feel that way about a woman he thought he could love?
He jumped in the dune buggy and headed up the trail, careful not to disturb the sand. He’d have to ask Junior if there was an island nearby where he could really stretch this thing’s legs. That might be the perfect distraction from investors, apps, and missing Katy.
Trace stared at his computer screen, Colby next to him. Both with bloodshot eyes.
“I don’t like all-nighters anymore,” Colby said.
As much as he agreed, Trace also wanted to have a solid meeting. The specifics and possibly pitfalls of a vacation planning app had been tricky to work out, and they’d find more, but with Colby now being inside the travel industry, that would also lend more weight.
Regan paused in the doorway to the small kitchen, eyes still heavy with sleep. “You guys are still up?”
“We work best when desperate.” Trace scratched his forehead.
“I like that you two could retire, but you’re still moving forward.”
“I don’t.” Colby laughed. “At least not this morning.”
Trace stood and started coffee while Regan stepped outside. Katy had only been gone for a day, but he keenly felt the loss of her. She’d texted to say she’d landed, but he’d been afraid to keep talking—afraid she’d move on without him, and afraid to push her away if he were too forward.
“Funny,” Trace said. “I’ve only been here a short while, and I’m not ready to leave. Aside from Katy being gone, I’m glad I have a couple more weeks here.”
“You can come right back.” Colby sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.
“Would you let me build a house on your island?”
“If you buy the land.” Colby smirked. “I happen to know you can afford it.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Trace shook his head.
Colby leaned back in his chair. “I’m the business-minded one, remember?”
Just as he was about to open his mouth as to why Colby wasn’t doing the meeting with Mr. Mason, he stopped. There was no way he was sending Colby away from his island. Add on the perfect excuse to go thousands of miles to see Katy, and he’d just have to do his best without his partner.
Chapter Twelve
Katy punched in her code, unlocking the front door of the vacation home her family’d had since she could remember. With a last wave to the driver, the car pulled out and she stepped into her past.
The house was the kind of still that said no one had been here in a while. The fridge sat empty, and every surface was spotless. She’d have to order out. But first, she had to sit down and apologize to friends for being so silent. The ones who understood her need to be off the grid for a while, would stick around. The ones who didn’t, wouldn’t.
A new text from Liv popped up.
On my way to you.
In your driveway.
HERE!
Which came all at the same time. The reception on this side of the island could be crap.
Two knocks were followed by her pale friend and her smile. “Katy!”
The two women wrapped each other in a hug and Katy took a deep breath in—some kind of designer perfume, no doubt. So Liv.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Liv pulled back. “Let’s order food, let me catch you up on the latest gossip, while we both pretend I’m not the biggest piece of gossip on the island.” Her voice was soft and full of the hurt that Katy had expected, but her light words, given her situation, was so like Katy’s best friend.
Katy grinned. “Great to see you.”
“And you…” Liv pinched her cheek. “You are tanner than any north-easterner has the right to be.”
“Good to be home,” Katy said, and she meant it far more than she thought she would.
“Also”—Liv stepped around her and into the house—“you briefly mentioned some app developer, and I have a raging suspicion that your story is exactly what I need to forget mine.”
Trace. Yeah. She could definitely use some outside perspective on him…
Two weeks of alternating between frantic adventuring, and moping over Hallmark movies with Olivia, and all Katy could think about was her time on Paradise Island…and Trace.
“You’re like one big pile of mope,” Olivia teased as she kicked Katy’s foot.
The pool at the house had been cleaned and prepped for another summer on the coast, and Katy and Olivia were taking full advantage for the unusually warm spring day.
“Sorry,” Katy said. “I miss him more than I should miss anyone I’ve known for such a short time.”
“Hmm.” Olivia rested back on the lounge chair. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him. He’s coming soon, yeah?”
“Sometime in the next few weeks.” Trace would be in town, in one week. Would things between them be the same? Their texts were brief, sometimes flirtatious, but never serious. But what else could she expect? It’s not like they’d dated for months. They’d shared a few kisses on his friend’s island.
“Thanks,” Olivia whispered.
Katy rolled onto her side, “For what?”
“Giving up that new-relationship fun stuff to s
ave my sanity.” Liv’s small mouth dipped into a slight frown.
Katy tapped her phone. “No one’s ever that far away anymore.”
Olivia stood, her waif-tiny body made to look even smaller in her small swimsuit. Katy had to keep that woman eating. Coming home had been the right move.
“Still.” Olivia stepped next to the pool and smiled over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
Katy blew her friend a kiss before Olivia jumped in the pool. She quick pulled up her phone and ordered a couple of lobster sandwiches and pasta they could re-heat for dinner.
“You coming in or what?” Olivia sent a spray of water over both chairs.
“Hey!” Katy squawked as she set down her phone. “I was ordering food!”
“Which reminds me…” Olivia bit her lip as she treaded water. “Dad asked if we’d join him for dinner?”
Well…they could re-heat the pasta for the next night. And maybe she could put in a good word for Trace while they were out.
“As long as he’s paying,” Katy teased before jumping in.
The warmth of the water was artificial, the pool crisp and clear. She craved the sand and the fish and the island. There had to be a way to both help her friend and get what she wanted, wasn’t there?
Chapter Thirteen
Trace sat in his rented BMW, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. He took in a few long breaths. Business was Colby’s forte, not his. But still…He had a short list from Katy and Olivia about Olivia’s dad.
Jump right in. Be direct. Don’t attempt to hide or downplay problems. Thank him for meeting, but simply. Mr. Mason had money to spend, but also appreciated frugality and a nod to conservative common sense where his investment was concerned.
At least he and Colby had made some headway with the app. Colby had played devil’s advocate, asking a million questions that they had trouble-shot. He couldn’t say the same for himself and how he planned to tell Katy he’d come to town early but had been afraid she’d take it as a sign he was pushing himself on her. After how he’d flirted with her when they first met, he for sure didn’t want to cross any lines Katy didn’t want crossed. Still, after a few weeks apart, she was so close.
