by J. L. Berg
“Any wedding where I don’t have to sit around, sweating like a sinner in church, is a mighty fine wedding to me.”
Ignoring her comment, Jake pressed on, “And why is it that you and Dean haven’t set a date? Cold feet?”
My cheeks reddened in anger. “My toes are perfectly warm, thank you. And, if you haven’t noticed, we’ve both been a little busy recently.”
“Seems to me like you’re waiting on something,” he said in a mocking tone. “Maybe a sign from God?”
“Shut up, Jake,” I responded, feeling like he’d touched a little too close to home.
To be honest, I didn’t know why we hadn’t set a date. This summer would mark the two-year anniversary of our engagement.
Two years, and nothing planned.
Surely, that wasn’t normal, but whenever we sat down to work out the details, we’d get sidetracked. Too many guests at the inn, or something had broken on one of the fishing vessels, and he’d had to run.
Two years.
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon,” I said more as an assurance to myself than anyone else.
“Absolutely,” Jake said, clearly not convinced.
Terri moved about the kitchen, quietly observing us.
Being quiet wasn’t usually one of Terri’s abilities, and it only made the tension between us rise.
Would this day ever end?
After two more stops that day, Jake put his foot down.
Or made me put mine up.
Driving back to the inn, he was quiet. Reflective even.
I almost asked him what was on his mind, but that was the old Molly coming through. The one who still believed love could overcome anything, no matter what obstacle stood in its way.
And then Jake had proven otherwise, walking away with no intentions of ever returning.
I’d become part of his recipe for disaster. Part of the place—our home—that had made him run.
By the time we reached the driveway to the inn, we had barely said two words to each other. I guessed our reunion was over.
“I’ll come around and help you,” he finally said, pulling the key from the ignition.
“No, it’s fine. I can manage.”
There was a slight pause in his movement, as if he were deciding whether it was worth it to argue. Whatever internal fight was going on in his head, he seemed to reach a conclusion, stepping out of the car without a single glance in my direction.
It was just as well.
By the time I hobbled into the house, he was long gone. Tucked in safely in the yellow room where he’d probably stay for the rest of the day.
Guessed I was cooking for one tonight. It was Mr. and Mrs. Lovell’s last night, so they’d most likely eat out. They both loved to tour the local restaurants. Using my metal sticks of death that Jake liked to call crutches, I managed to get all the way to the kitchen without incident.
“Stupid ankle,” I mumbled, hating myself for being dumb enough to fall down the stairs I’d been using since I could walk.
“You always were a bit of a klutz,” Jake said, stepping into the kitchen.
Usually, the large space felt spacious, but the moment he walked in, it felt like a vacuum.
So small and tight, I could barely find air to breathe.
“I seem to remember a little boy crying on the beach a time or two because he’d stepped on a jellyfish.”
“That’s not clumsiness. That was just pure dumb luck,” he countered. “Well, and the fact that I never watched where I was walking—something you obviously still haven’t mastered.”
I let out a long sigh, resting my hand against the cold gray granite. “I don’t have time for this again, Jake.”
“Time for what?”
“This walk down memory lane we keep finding ourselves on. I’m not the same doe-eyed girl I was when you walked away. I have a life—one that I’ve worked hard for.”
“I get it, Mols. I do. You’ve moved on. You don’t have to constantly keep reminding me. And yourself.”
“I don’t need to remind myself,” I argued.
“Are you sure?” he pushed, taking a few steps closer.
I could see every lean muscle he owned peeking out from his tight black shirt. It made my heart race.
“Because I’ve only been here for about twenty-four hours, and you seem to need to defend your life and the choices you’ve made about every chance you get.””
I had no witty comeback. No words to shoot him down.
“And the only time you’ve even mentioned your beloved fiancé is when I’ve brought him up.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but still, I had nothing.
Because, deep down, I knew he was right.
“The kitchen’s all yours,” I said softly, stepping past him as I raced for an exit. “I’m going to bed.”
He didn’t fire back with any smart-ass comments about the time of day or the fact that I still had a million things left on my to-do list.
He just let me go.
Like he’d done twelve years ago, making it even clearer that Jake Jameson and I were never meant to be.
No matter how much I’d believed otherwise.
The next day, I woke up early.
After spending the late afternoon and evening sulking in my first-floor bedroom, I was half crazy over the amount of stuff I’d ignored in my attempt to avoid a certain houseguest.
But, the minute the clock hit six that morning, I was up and ready. Knowing the Lovells were leaving today had me in a perplexed mood. I would miss them, I always did, so it would be nice to spend a little time with them this morning, cooking up a large breakfast, like normal.
I needed a little normal in my life right now.
So, I got to work, chopping veggies and sautéing sausage for a cheesy casserole. I heated up croissants and muffins I’d made earlier, and I brewed coffee. It was a little cumbersome to do, having only one working foot.
But I managed.
By the time the Lovells came down to eat, I felt accomplished and halfway back to normal.
“This looks divine!” Mrs. Lovell crooned before noticing my foot. “Oh heavens, dear, what did you do?”
“I sprained my ankle yesterday on the steps. You’d think, after this long, I’d have figured them out by now.”
A gentle smile spread across each of their faces. Mrs. Lovell forced me to sit and join them, making her way around the eat-in kitchen like she belonged there. Over the years, I’d come to learn she was actually a very accomplished cook herself, even going so far as to run her own part-time catering business in their native state of Ohio.
I wanted to protest, firmly believing that my guests should feel pampered at every moment of their stay, but my foot was aching. Had it been anyone but this specific couple, I would have.
But sitting down did feel mighty good.
Mrs. Lovell poured me a cup of coffee as I scooped up large helpings of the casserole and handed them out. Everything in this inn was served family-style. It was the one thing I’d never change. My parents had been big on creating a warm, family-like atmosphere in this place, and this was just one of the ways they’d accomplished it.
“How is your beau?” Mr. Lovell asked, already digging into his breakfast.
“I wish I could say he was good, but it’s been a rough road.”
He nodded thoughtfully, those adorable old lines on his forehead moving right along with every expression. “Mmm, I can imagine. Quite a shock for a young man like that. Growing old, you expect to lose certain abilities. Simple tasks aren’t as easy as they once were, and don’t even get me started on all the new aches and pains I discover every day. But it’s gradual. I didn’t wake up one morning, having my youth ripped out from me. I wager that’s how your Dean is feeling. Like he was robbed and has no way of getting those years back.”
Remembering the way he’d seemed to look right through me the last time I was there, I nodded thoughtfully.
“You’ll pass
on our sympathies? We’ll keep him and his family in our prayers,” Mrs. Lovell added, taking a moment to gently touch my hand.
“I’m planning on driving up there to see him today. I’ll definitely let him know.”
“You’re driving where?” a deep voice asked.
Mr. and Mrs. Lovell turned their attention toward the doorframe.
“Jake! Long time no see.” Mr. Lovell grinned, rising to greet him with a firm handshake. “Glad to see you’ve settled in.”
“You, too, Mr. Lovell,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to sit and chat with you yesterday. This one had me running all over the island.”
Both men turned their heads toward me.
“Ah, well, I can understand that. Can’t leave a friend in distress, can you?”
I loved how Mr. Lovell naturally assumed we were nothing more than friends rather than prodding and meddling for information on the nature of Jake’s stay. It was the natural good nature of the man that always assumed the best in people.
I wished it would rub off on me. I couldn’t help but eye Jake with his tall frame and milky-blue irises and wonder what he was up to.
As if his sole purpose here were to ruin my life.
But the Lovells simply greeted him as an old friend rather than a man who’d run away from everyone he loved because he couldn’t quell the darkness in his soul.
“What was this I heard about you driving today?” Jake asked, not waiting for an invitation as he sat himself down next to me with a steaming cup of coffee and an empty plate.
I forced myself to be nice. After all, he was a guest. Who was paying double.
“I have to drive up the coast and visit the hospital today,” I explained.
He took a moment before answering, taking several bites of casserole. I watched as he took his first bite and smiled slightly when his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. Maybe he wasn’t half bad after all.
“And just how do you expect to drive with that foot?”
Moment over. I was back to wanting to kill him.
“I’ll manage,” I said, feeling like a child in front of my guests.
How many times had this man berated me since his arrival?
Why did he even care?
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Your right foot is imperative to operating a motor vehicle. I can’t in good conscience let you drive with that sprain.”
Both Mr. and Mrs. Lovell nearly melted over his gentlemanly behavior. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that I need to go there.”
“Then, I guess I’ll just have to be your chauffeur. Again.”
I moved to respond, but his finger landed on my lips, stopping my words from ever leaving my mouth. The heat from that single digit almost burned, the sensation lasting far longer than the mere second it rested there.
“Jake, I—”
“Well, that sounds like a lovely idea, doesn’t it, Anne? We should get out of their hair, so they can get going with their day.”
The old woman smiled back at her husband. “Absolutely. You kids have fun. We’ll see ourselves out.” She briefly stopped at the doorframe, turning back toward me. “As always, thank you for the wonderful stay, Molly.”
I smiled warmly. “Anything for you two. Come back soon.”
She gave a quick nod in our direction before following her husband up the stairs to their suite. Once again, it was just Jake and me.
Alone.
“What time do you need to leave?” he asked, taking the last sip of coffee from his mug.
“You are not coming with me,” I seethed, rising quickly before remembering my ankle.
With lightning-fast reflexes, Jake was at my side, keeping me from hitting the floor and causing more damage to my poor, neglected body.
“I had planned on a trip up there anyway. Might as well be today.”
“I find that highly unlikely,” I grumbled, steadying myself so that I could wiggle out of his grasp.
Every time he touched me, it was like stepping into a time machine. My body remembered his—every brush of skin, every single kiss—and the more I remembered, the more it hurt to be around him.
Knowing he’d chosen a life without me.
“You find it highly unlikely that I, a surgeon, would like to visit a hospital?”
I huffed. “Fine,” I said curtly. “Be ready in an hour.”
“Fine,” he replied, leaving his dishes on the table where he sat. “I’ll leave those for you since you’re so able-bodied now. Wouldn’t want you to think I was babying you…or interfering with your perfect life.”
I growled under my breath as he walked away.
I’d never wanted to go back to bed more than that moment.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t wired that way, so I got to work.
And prepared myself for another up close and personal day with Jake.
God help me.
Little was said between Jake and me as we traveled out of the little town of Ocracoke and toward the ferry. I turned my attention toward the sand dunes, watching the sun rise higher in the sky.
Since breakfast, his mood had changed.
Darkened.
The snarky, joking tone I’d come to know of him had moved aside, giving me a glimpse into the real Jake. The one who seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
And the closer we got to the ferry, the more I understood.
A week ago, he’d been coming home to say good-bye to his father, and instead, he’d almost lost his own life.
What had it been like for the two of them on that boat in the middle of the ocean?
I couldn’t imagine.
I’d been so wrapped up in the shock of it all that had happened and the constant need to keep everything and everyone together that I hadn’t really let it sink in since that night.
I could have lost them both.
“Are you okay?” I asked as the car lurched forward, moving from land to sea.
He followed directions, taking a parking spot toward the middle, and cars fell in line on either side of us.
“I’m fine,” he replied, cutting off the engine.
The roar of the ferry combined with the many cars that hadn’t yet powered down left a loud ringing in my ear. Something I never got used to.
Living on the island since birth had given me a special childhood.
A secluded one.
The roaring sound of traffic and city noise was foreign to me, and it always felt strange, leaving the island for the hustle and bustle of the mainland.
Slowly, the cars around us quieted, and people began to exit toward the outer rails for a better view. I sat silent, watching Jake stare at the dusty truck in front of us.
“What was it like?” I asked softly. “The explosion?”
He turned, his eyes thoughtful. “It was horrific,” he said plainly. “I thought I was over it. I’ve dealt with dire situations like that before, but this time, it was different.”
“Because of Dean?”
He nodded. “It was too close to home. Usually, I can take a step back, creating that much-needed barrier between patient and doctor so that I can do my job. But sitting there, next to Dean, as he bled out, my hands shook, and my vision blurred.”
“You saved him, Jake,” I reminded him.
“Yes, but it wasn’t enough.”
“You did the best you could,” I said, wanting to reach out to him but knowing I had to keep a safe distance.
For both of us.
“He’ll never be the same again. If I’d gotten to him earlier…done something different, maybe it would have helped.”
“You sound like someone else we both knew.”
His eyes searched mine. “My father?”
I simply nodded as his face turned from mine.
“I’ll never be like him. Never.” The door handle clicked, and just like that, he was gone once more.
I watched
as he disappeared through the surrounding vehicles, wondering when, or if, he’d be able to face all those demons from his past.
And what that would mean for me when he did.
SINCE ARRIVING HOME, I’D BEEN making one bad choice after another.
And all of them seemed to revolve around one person.
Molly McIntyre.
I’d convinced myself that, after all this time, I wouldn’t feel for her the same way I once had. But, the moment I had seen her standing over Dean, her heart bleeding out with pain and regret, I had known I was a goner.
Being a glutton for punishment, I kept making it worse by placing myself in her way as much as possible. That was why, at this very moment, I was assisting her in walking to Dean’s hospital room.
Dean. Her fiancé.
Yep. Definitely a glutton for punishment.
That, or all those years of sleep deprivation during medical school were starting to catch up. Either way, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to Dean’s room, allowing Molly to enter first.
A quick moment of indecision passed through me as I contemplated staying in the hallway. But I wasn’t that shitty of a person.
Not yet anyway.
So, I followed behind her, making sure she didn’t fall on the crutches she hated so much. Honestly, I’d seen ninety-five-year-olds do better on a pair of these things than her. It was a wonder she hadn’t reinjured herself yet.
The room was still and void of light. At first, I wondered if Dean was sleeping and we should possibly come back, but then I stepped in full and met his eyes.
It was like looking into the glassy irises of a corpse. No recognition, no reaction. Just a mere glance in my direction and then nothing.
I’d heard he was struggling.
But this?
This was more than that. He’d given up.
“Hi, Dean,” Molly said with clear hesitation.
She went to his bedside, reaching out for his left hand. Dean stared straight ahead.
“I brought Jake. He wanted to say hi. We all miss you so much!”
I appreciated her spin on our arrangement. I guessed saying something like, Jake forced his way into the car after I fell down the stairs, was a little too much information for the moment.
