Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1)

by Rachel Schurig

“Kidding, Iris.”

  I pulled my hand from his so I could flick the skin of his wrist. “I just meant that we should get this little trip over with before I start freaking out. I didn’t sign up for sightseeing.”

  “What happened to trusting me?” he asked, voice soft. I studied his face for a moment, waiting for him to smile, to tease. He was serious.

  “Fine.” I sat back in the seat. “What do you want to show me?”

  “Just sit back and relax,” he said, turning the wheel again. I watched the shoreline, which appeared to be getting much closer as he moved parallel to the land. We had moved away from town, and this part of the island was mostly forested. I could make out the individual branches of trees now—we were definitely getting closer.

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable nearer to land,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  I nodded, watching the trees whiz by.

  “That’s good,” he murmured, and I could feel his eyes on my face. “Just watch the shore. Get used to the feel of being on the water without thinking about how big it is.”

  I swallowed. I knew that if I turned around, the bay would be stretching out behind us, spilling into endless Lake Michigan beyond. There wasn’t land in that direction for miles and miles, another state entirely.

  “Watch the shore, Iris,” he said firmly. I closed my eyes for a moment and then did as he asked.

  The island was rocky over here. I didn’t think that I had ever been to this part of Lilac Bay before. Certainly not by boat. The shore was nearly solid green, the steady line of pines and spruces occasionally broken by flashes of silver white birches. Tree-covered hills stretched up behind the coastline, rolling green as far back as I could see.

  “It’s really pretty,” I murmured, kind of surprised. My entire life I had heard family members gushing about the beauty of the island, but I had never seen it. To me, the island was something to be endured. From the family vacations to the months living here after the divorce, I had never looked at the land without some kind of resentment coloring my view.

  “It is,” David agreed. “We’re coming up to my favorite part.”

  He cut back on the power until he was again practically idling, and angled even closer toward the shore. The land rose above us in a rocky cliff, harsh and black against the blue sky. “Wow. I didn’t even know this was here.”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  David shrugged, tossing a smile over his shoulder. “I just never saw you as the cliff climbing type.”

  Well, he did have a point.

  “Here we go,” he said, a grin lighting up his face. A rocky outcrop jutted away from the shore, scraggly pine trees clinging to its edges. As David pulled the boat around the rocks a small inlet came into view, surrounded completely by rocky cliffs and shoals, just barely enough room to maneuver the boat into place. Trees found purchase in little nooks and crannies, but the majority of the landscape was hard and rugged.

  “What is this?”

  “Doesn’t really have a name,” David said, slowing the boat even more. “My cousin and I always called it Blackbeard’s Cove when we were little. We used to come exploring here.” He shot me a quick grin before turning back to the wheel. “I’m putting the anchor down.”

  I was surprised to find that I was glad. There was so much to look at, I couldn’t imagine motoring right past. The boat rumbled slightly as the anchor descended. To my surprise, the motion didn’t really bother me.

  “Come here,” David said, standing and leaning over the side of the boat. I felt a rush of fear at his position—it seemed like he could fall so easily. But then he was glancing over his shoulder at me, that same calm expression in his eyes. “Come look.”

  I joined him at the side of the boat, barely peeking over the edge, and gasped. “It’s so clear!”

  He nodded. “That’s Lake Michigan for you. Some of the most beautiful water in the world.”

  He wasn’t kidding. I could see all the way to the sandy bottom. “How deep is this?”

  “Only about five feet,” he said. “Honestly, we’d be able to see bottom at this depth even if it was murky. But if we went out farther from shore, you could still see the bottom, even out at twenty feet.”

  I shivered a little at the thought of that much water, but David was pointing out things for me to look at. The longer I peered down into the crystal clear water, the more I could see. Sea grass waving gently in the current. A clam nestled into the sand. A school of silvery little fish darting around. “This is nice,” I said.

  “This is my favorite place on the whole island. You can’t reach it by land. Too rocky over there. You can only get to it by boat.”

  I turned away from the water to watch his face. “You’re trying to teach me some kind of lesson, aren’t you?” I asked. “Like, you want to show me that I would have missed out on all of this if I didn’t face my fears. The cove is symbolic, right?”

  He laughed as he turned and slid down onto the cushioned seat, crossing his arms. “It’s not symbolic. I just like it back here. I thought you might like it, too. I figured you’d feel better about being in the boat if you had something nice to look at.”

  “Oh.”

  He grinned. “But I guess the symbolic thing works, too.” He watched my face. “Want to put your feet in?”

  “In the water?” I squeaked.

  “It’s not deep. And we aren’t moving. I promise you won’t fall.”

  I thought about the symbolism—would I be missing out if I didn’t give it a try? Just like I would have missed out on the cove itself?

  “Come on,” he said, sensing that I was wavering. “If you hate it, we’ll leave.”

  At the rear of the boat, he opened a little gate to reveal the small platform I’d noticed back in the marina when he was demonstrating his access to the motor. The platform sat close to the water, and there was no guardrail or walls to keep me from tumbling into the waves—but there weren’t waves, I reminded myself. The water was totally calm, even more so here than out in the bay. And the water wasn’t the murky dark of my nightmares—it was clear, all the way to the bottom. Even if I fell, I’d be able to touch at five feet. There was nothing scarier down there than the silvery fish darting through the sea grass.

  David pulled off his boat shoes and plopped down on the platform, then turned to offer me a hand. “You doing this?”

  Still feeling a little unsteady, I took his hand and sat down on the platform, staying as far from the edge as possible. “Not gonna get your feet wet from there,” he pointed out.

  “I just need a minute.” I pulled off my wedge sandals and set them carefully at my side, catching David’s eye. “Do you have any shoes that are flat?” he asked, shaking his head.

  “Of course I do.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t seen any.”

  “Have you been making a habit of checking out my footwear, David?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Like I wouldn’t have noticed the ridiculous stilettos you were wearing the day you came over on the ferry. You nearly broke your neck in those things.”

  “A, those weren’t stilettos. They were only like, three-inch heels. And B, it wasn’t my shoes that almost killed me. It was that damn chicken!”

  “Scared of water I can understand. But chickens? Really, Iris?”

  “I am not scared of chickens, plural! I was scared of that particular chicken. Because it surprised me.”

  “So much so that you thought jumping in the bay would save you.”

  “I was not going to jump in the—” I caught sight of his flashing eyes and knew a laugh was not far behind. “You’re the worst.”

  He did laugh then, pulling on my elbow to nudge me closer to the water. “Are you putting your feet in or not? Shall we add wet toes to the list of things that scare you senseless?”

  “The worst,” I said again, inching to the edge of the platform, which was maybe
a foot above the water. I was going to have to sit right on the edge to get my feet wet. I took a deep breath and dropped my feet into the water.

  “Holy shit!” I cried, pulling them right back out. “It’s freezing!”

  “It’s May,” he said. “What did you expect?”

  “Not ice water.”

  “It’s Lake Michigan, Iris.”

  “We have Lake Michigan in Chicago, you know, David,” I snapped, more than a little annoyed by his smarty-pants routine. “It doesn’t feel like that.”

  He tugged on my elbow again. “It’s refreshing. Besides, if you give it a minute, your skin will go so numb, you won’t even feel the cold.”

  “You really know how to sell it.” But I complied, sticking my feet in once more. Once I got past the shock of the cold, it did feel kind of cool. No pun intended. The water was so smooth, almost silky, against the skin of my feet. I kicked a little, watching the sunlight hit the pale pink polish on my toes.

  We were both quiet for a moment, staring down at the water until David cleared his throat. “So, Chicago. You like it there?”

  “You live here. The way this place gossips, don’t you already know my whole life story?”

  He laughed. “Your grandmother is very proud of you. And talkative.” David watched the cliff for a moment. “You lived there before the divorce, too, right?”

  I nodded. I didn’t really like to think about life before the divorce. “Mostly. We moved a lot with my parents’ work, but Chicago was always home.”

  “So you went back there?” His voice was quieter now. “When you left the island?”

  Awesome. A topic I liked even less than life before the divorce—life after the divorce.

  “No. My dad was working overseas then, so I couldn’t live with him. That’s why I had moved here with my mom in the first place. I had nowhere else to go. I went to boarding school when I left here.”

  I felt his eyes on me. “Boarding school? That sounds kind of rough.”

  I shrugged. “It was good for me. My grades got better, and I was able to get into DePaul.”

  “With Posey.”

  I nodded, smiling a little. College with my cousin had been one of the best experiences of my life.

  “What about you? Did you leave for college or… uh…”

  “Stay here my whole life like a loser?” I was relieved to hear the humor in his voice. “No, I went away to school. Northwestern.”

  I turned to face him, shocked. “But that’s right near Chicago.”

  “I know.”

  I smacked his arm. “Nobody told me you lived there. Was it just for school?”

  “Nah.” He stretched out on the platform, leaning back on his elbows. “I got a job in the city after. Stayed for a few years.”

  “No way! So we were probably living there around the same time.”

  “We were.” His eyes met my face. “I applied to work at one of your restaurants, you know.”

  “What? When? Which one?”

  He shrugged. “Gino’s, I think. It was ages ago.”

  I shook my head. “Why don’t I remember this?”

  “I never got an interview. I doubt you reviewed all the applications yourself.”

  “No… But you should have told them you knew me!”

  David’s attention went back to the cliffs. “I’ve never been into the nepotism thing.”

  I looked down at my hands, knowing full well that I never would have had any kind of career if it wasn’t for my dad’s name.

  “What job did you apply for?”

  “Sous chef.”

  I sat up straight, staring at him. “You’re a chef?”

  “Was a chef.”

  There was something in his tone that told me he didn’t want to talk about it any further, but I was way too blown away by this admission to drop it. Besides, he was the one who had brought it up.

  “I can’t believe this. You lived in Chicago and you were a chef? No wonder you came up with those amazing sandwich recipes.”

  “I make all the sandwiches for the café now.” He sounded sullen. “Since your grandfather’s stroke at least.”

  “This is incredible!”

  I couldn’t read his eyes when he looked at me. “Am I more up to your standard now?”

  I gaped at him, shocked by the sudden change in his attitude. “What?”

  “Living in a big city, having a flashy job. Sounds a lot better than living here my whole life and working in your grandma’s café, doesn’t it?”

  “I did not say that.”

  “You were thinking it.”

  He seemed so angry. I’d thought of him as moody since the day I arrived on the island, but I hadn’t seen him like this. “David, I was not thinking that. It was just unexpected—”

  “Because you didn’t think I had it in me.”

  “No. Because it wasn’t something I had ever heard before. On an island like this, where everyone talks about everyone else’s business. It was new information, that’s all.”

  He was still scowling, but he seemed to relax a little.

  “And I thought you hated the city,” I added. “That’s what you always said back when we… well. When I lived here.”

  He ignored my awkward reference to our dating history. “I do. I did. And I was right to. I was miserable there.”

  “Then why did you stay after school?”

  He let out a long sigh, running his hands through his hair. “Why do stupid men do anything?”

  Ah. “A girl.”

  He shot me a wry smile. “The source of most misery in the world.”

  “Hey!” I cried, smacking his arm. But he was smiling again, so I figured I’d let the insult pass.

  “What happened with her?”

  He shrugged, but his eyes seemed to tighten. Whatever it had been, I had a feeling it wasn’t good. What had Posey said? He’s been through a lot. Just when I thought the shrug was the only answer I would get, David spoke. “She turned out to not be worth leaving home for.”

  I don’t know why his words stung me the way they did. Maybe it was the deep certainty in his voice on the word home. That it was a place worth coming back to, a place that had a hold on him. Had I ever felt that way about Chicago? About anywhere?

  “What about you?” He turned to me now, a teasing sort of smile on his face—but his eyes were still tight. “Any great love affairs in Chicago?”

  It was my turn to shrug. “Phillip and I broke up a few weeks ago.” I attempted a self-deprecating smile. “It was his condo we were living in, hence my arrival in Lilac Bay.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” They were meaningless words, the kind you threw out without thinking when someone offered their sympathy about something like this. But they were also, I realized, true. It was okay. “Huh,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear it. “I just realized…” I turned to him. “I don’t really miss him. Isn’t that weird? We dated for a year. We lived together. But today is the first time I’ve even thought about him in days.” It was true. I’d spent my time in Lilac Bay worrying about what it would be like to stay here, worrying about my job and my dad, worrying about what in the hell I was supposed to do next. But I had barely spared a stray thought for Phillip.

  David’s eyes seemed to be carefully searching my face, his expression unreadable. “I think it probably says something about your relationship,” he finally offered. “Sounds like he wasn’t the one.”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t bother to point out that I didn’t believe in the one. What was the point? That kind of thing never lasted.

  “I can’t really picture you with a Phillip, anyhow,” he added, pulling his feet up from the water.

  “Why not?”

  He rolled his eyes, standing. “Phillip? Come on. He can’t even shorten it to Phil?”

  “Says the guy who refuses to answer to Dave.”

  He grinned, holding out a h
and to help me up. “David is classic. Phillip is just…” He mock shuddered. “Smarmy.”

  The sound that escaped my throat sounded very much like a giggle, and a little voice in the back of my head warned me that it was never a good sign to be giggling in the company of cute men with whom one has a history.

  “Come on,” David said, heading to the front of the boat. “We have a farm to visit.”

  I followed him up, taking my seat. It was strange—the idea of the water stretching between us and our destination no longer felt quite so scary. I had already come such a long way.

  Chapter 11

  On Saturday morning, Posey and I planned to enjoy an entire day free from the café. We had it all planned out—manicures at the island’s best salon (a close call between Sherry’s Hair Barn and Curlicues, but since Sherry turned out to be none other than Bad Perm from the Libbies meeting, Curlicues won out in the end) followed by lunch with Cora at her pub, shopping, and finishing with a glass of champagne up at the Big Hotel. I was looking forward to the uninterrupted time with my cousin—and hopeful that a day full of walking the island would keep me distracted from dangerous thoughts of grey eyes and sandy blond hair blowing in the breeze on Love Spell—

  You’re not sixteen anymore, I reminded myself as I made my way downstairs. Apparently, Posey was waiting for me in the kitchen—I could hear the unmistakable sounds of her chattering.

  But it wasn’t Mimi I found talking to her when I got downstairs. Our cousins Andrew and Edward, along with Edward’s boyfriend Zane, were crowded around the kitchen table, stuffing their faces with what appeared to be crepes.

  “Look who decided to join us,” Edward said, his mouth full.

  “You’re disgusting,” I pointed out, to Zane’s nodded approval. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “We always come over on Saturday mornings,” Andrew said, leaning down to give Jasper the rind of his bacon. The beagle wagged his tail appreciatively before he moved over to Zane and took up his begging pose once again.

  “Let me guess—Mimi cooks you breakfast on Saturdays?”

  “Are you implying,” Andrew asks, wiping powdered sugar from his mouth, “that we only show up at our beloved grandmother’s abode when she bribes us with food?”