Jilted

by Tess Thompson

  Then she wanted to hurt him. “The fire reminded me how quickly life can change. In a second, we could be gone. You’re right about yourself. You’re a broken man. I thought loving you would put you back together, but I was wrong. I can’t save you. You have to save yourself. You have to choose to move on, to be happy, to trust.”

  “I haven’t known how,” he whispered.

  “I think it would be best for both of us if I left town.” She couldn’t stay in this town and run into him every other minute. “I’m not sure I belong here any longer.”

  She trudged across the hot tub, aware that he reached for her with both hands, but she shook him away. He might have even said her name, but she couldn’t hear him. The roar between her ears was too loud.

  She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her as she sprinted across the cement patio. She managed to open the kitchen doors despite her wet, shaking hands. When she was inside, she ran across the cold floor and down the hall to her room. Forget it all. Let Zane sell the damn restaurant if he wanted to. Let Nico continue his solitary life with his flowers and taking home bimbos for meaningless sex. To hell with both of them. She was going to Paris. Maybe she’d stay forever.

  In her room, she threw herself onto the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and sobbed.

  A knock on the door startled her. She stopped crying. “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “It’s Judi.”

  Her heart sank. Of course he didn’t come after her. He never would. “Come on in.” She sat up, wiping her eyes.

  Judi approached the bed and perched on one end. “What’s happened?”

  “I need to get out of here.” She waved toward Nico’s bungalow.

  “What did he do?”

  “We kissed and kissed and then he pushed me away and I told him I’m leaving.” She sobbed, knowing her face had folded into the ugliest cry ever. “And my heart’s broken into a thousand pieces.” She flung herself back.

  “Oh, dear girl.” Judi put her cool hands on Sophie’s wet cheeks. “Men are such cowards sometimes. Especially after they’ve been hurt. They’ll come up with every excuse in the world not to be with a woman, especially if their feelings are as strong as the ones this particular young man has for you.

  “You’re quite right. Leaving is the only thing to do. I didn’t think it would come to this, but the third step is necessary,” Mrs. Coventry said. “You need to disappear for a while. Let him miss you and see how empty his life is without you.”

  She nodded, miserable. “I’ll go to Paris.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d like company?”

  “You’d want to come with me? I’d love that so much,” Sophie said.

  “We’ll have to stay in only the finest inns,” Mrs. Coventry said. “I’m snobby that way. I’ll pay, of course.”

  “Whatever you want.” She let out a long, sad sigh. “Nothing matters to me right now.”

  “Back to the plan,” Mrs. Coventry said. “The last step, and it’ll be the hardest. You must ignore his texts and calls.

  “He might not call.”

  “He’ll call. Trust me. You’ll post on one of those social media sites all the pictures of places we’re staying and how much fun you’re having and all the people we’re meeting, especially the handsome young men. It’ll drive him crazy and right into your arms where he belongs.”

  “You’re kind of evil.”

  “I know, darling. That’s what I’ve been telling you.” She stood. “Now, I’ll need a few days to get some business sorted out. I have a meeting with my attorney in the city tomorrow. I’ll call my travel agent in the morning. She can take care of everything.”

  Sophie sniffed. “I’ll find someone to run the wine bar while I’m gone.”

  “That’s easy enough, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, thinking of Bobby. He would probably welcome the work.

  “Three days,” Mrs. Coventry said. “And we’ll make our escape.”

  Three days. Three long days.

  17

  Nico

  * * *

  The next morning Nico paced around the bungalow. Jen watched him from her bed. Her sympathetic eyes followed him back and forth across the living room. He hadn’t slept much the night before, tossing and turning and thinking about Sophie. His eyes were dry and irritated, as if he’d been in salt water too long. A dull throb in his head reminded him of how wine and heartbreak didn’t mix well.

  He hadn’t gone over to the big house for breakfast, not wanting to face Sophie or Mrs. Coventry. They were bonded against him at this point. His whole life was out of control.

  He sank into the couch and rubbed his eyes. As if this were her cue, Jen crossed over to him and placed her head on his knee.

  “What am I doing?” he asked his furry friend. “She says she’s leaving. What should I do?”

  Jen lifted her head and wagged her tail.

  “Telling her that I love her might be the wrong thing for her. I mean, look at me. I’m a mess.”

  The fur above Jen’s eyes twitched, as if she were frowning at him.

  “I thought about it all night. If she leaves now, I’ve probably lost her forever. She’ll probably fall in love with some French wine dude.”

  Jen barked.

  “Of course I don’t want that,” he said in response. “But what if she’s wrong about her feelings? What if she changes her mind and leaves me for someone else?”

  The dog cocked her head to the right.

  “I know, I sound like a dolt. You don’t have to say it,” Nico said. “I’ve been left many times. It’s not like my fears haven’t happened before.”

  Nico went to the window and looked out to the driveway. Sophie’s car was already gone. She’d probably left early to avoid him. He wandered back to the couch and sat. This feeling of being left jarred him. There had been so many times in his life when he’d been left or abandoned. Not once had he seen it coming. There was Addie, of course, but before that there had been another girl. Someone in college who’d chased him for a year. When he finally gave in and let himself fall for her, she dumped him after only a few weeks. That had stung. In hindsight, that had been nothing.

  Not like the devastating blow of Addie’s decision.

  Not like his parents.

  He went to the desk and sat. The paperwork that had explained so much about his life lay on top. His parents weren’t who he thought they were. They were not his parents.

  That was it. The only knowledge he’d had of the girl who’d given birth to him and then committed suicide.

  He’d come to Cliffside Bay to start fresh. In his new life, he could almost forget about his family and Addie—everything that came before. But not quite. This secret about who he really was, his parents’ rejection, and Addie were intertwined. Nothing was as it seemed to him. His parents weren’t his parents. His fiancée was a lesbian. He had obvious blind spots, especially when it came to people he loved. Which led him to the same conclusion about Sophie. She was not as she appeared. He assumed he was missing something. Whatever it was, there would eventually be the inevitable, heartbreaking revelation. Eventually, she would leave him.

  The very thing he feared the most, he’d caused to happen. He’d forced Sophie to leave him.

  What if he was wrong about Sophie? What if she was the thing not like the others?

  A montage of images played through his mind: Sophie confessing her feelings; the first time Jen licked Sophie’s face; her trusting eyes as he begged her to jump to the tree; the stubborn tilt to her head when she told him she would never stop loving him.

  Despite all the ways he’d pushed her away and acted irrationally, she had been steady and resolute in her love. What if the problem was all his?

  How was that even a question? The problem was all his. Sophie was the sunshine. She shone too brightly to hide anything. Like the sun, she rose every day without fail. He had to make this right.

  He jumped at the sound of a knoc
k on his front door.

  “Mrs. Coventry,” he said to Jen. “Here to give me a talking-to.” Jen’s claws clicked on the hardwood as they went to the door.

  It wasn’t his landlady. Zane Shaw stood there, looking big and angry.

  Jen hid behind Nico’s legs.

  “Hey. What’s up?” Nico put one hand in his pocket and crossed his fingers.

  “I’m looking for Sophie.”

  “She lives in the main house. Not here.” He knew that, didn’t he?

  Zane’s eyes narrowed. He stepped forward a few inches, like a bull about to charge a matador. “She’s not answering her phone.”

  “I’m not positive of her exact location at the moment.” He forced himself to keep his feet planted on the ground. A guy like Shaw would take that as weakness and sink his teeth all the way into Nico’s jugular.

  “I need to talk to her.” The muscle in Zane’s left cheek pulsed.

  Jen let out a soft whine and pressed against Nico’s leg.

  Nico put his hands in his pockets. “She might be asleep.” We had a rough night because I’m a bastard. He left that part out. Taunting the bull with a red cape was not a good idea.

  “Listen, Bentley, I know you did something to her. She sent me a text this morning to tell me she’s going to Paris and that she wanted Bobby to manage the wine bar while she was away. She said she might be gone for two months, which led me here to your door. The only reason she would do that is if you hurt her.”

  Did he tell him the truth? “I did hurt her. Unintentionally.”

  Zane flinched. “What did you do?”

  He wanted to deny his culpability. Even to himself, he’d love to paint his treatment of Sophie in a better light. However, the truth was the truth. “I told her what I’ve been telling her. We’re not suited. She said she needed to get out of town for a while—to get away from me.”

  Zane cursed. He ran one hand from his forehead and over his nose, squishing his features into an almost comical expression. “Well, we agree about that much, anyway.”

  Nico shrugged, defeated and suddenly too tired to fight. “Whatever.”

  His nonchalance seemed to infuriate Shaw even more. “Why are you yanking her around, Bentley?”

  A shot of anger woke him. “You know what, Shaw? It’s way more complicated than you can understand. Anyway, it’s really none of your business. You’ve been nothing but selfish since the fire. The bar is her life and all you can do is talk about how much you want to get rid of it.”

  His nostrils flared as he bit out each word. “She told you that?”

  “Why wouldn’t she? We talk about everything.”

  “Because this is a family matter. And you’re not family.”

  “I care about her well-being more than anyone in her life,” Nico said.

  “That’s such bullshit. You just want to get her into bed.”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  Zane lunged at him, almost as if someone had pushed him from behind.

  Nico stopped him by shoving him in the chest with both hands.

  Zane stumbled backward. His face reddened as he lurched toward Nico again.

  Nico put his hands up, less aggressively this time but still managing to stop him. “What the hell? We don’t need to go here.”

  Zane shoved him by the shoulders. “You will stay away from my sister from now on.”

  “She’s not giving me much choice, now is she? You can settle down. She’s safe from the big bad wolf,” Nico said, trying to stay calm. He wanted to punch him in his arrogant face. He had a lot of nerve coming to his house and threatening him after Nico had done nothing but thwart her advances. “For the record, I’ve never been anything but respectful to your sister.”

  “Respectful? You’ve done nothing but lead her on. How does she not see you’re nothing but a predator?”

  Nico let out a dry laugh. “Predator? Are you serious with this? I haven’t touched her.”

  “That’s a lie. I know you’ve kissed her, and God only knows what’s been happening since she’s been staying up here.”

  “Sophie has her own mind. She’s an adult. If she wants to spend time with me, it’s none of your concern.”

  “It’s completely my concern. Our father would not want her hanging out with a guy like you.”

  Nico stared at him, truly astounded. “What’s wrong with a guy like me?”

  Zane gestured around Nico’s front room. “Look at this place. You live like a college student.”

  That was it. He was taking this guy down. This time, he lunged toward Shaw and shoved him out of his living room and through the open door. Zane came back at him, grabbing hold of Nico’s shirt collar as they danced like a drunken couple before falling into an arrangement of various-sized flowerpots. The clay pots crashed against the cement, spilling dirt and plants.

  For the second time in a week, Nico was on top of a Shaw. This turquoise-eyed sibling, however, did not have the same influence on a certain body part. Quite the opposite, in fact. His base instinct was not to procreate but to kill. He raised his fist to smash it into Shaw’s square chin. Before he could make contact, a cold stream of water hit his face. He yelped in shock and shook his head like Jen after a bath, then turned to find the source of the onslaught. Mrs. Coventry stood in the driveway with the garden hose between two hands. The jet stream aimed directly onto them.

  “Get up. Both of you,” Mrs. Coventry said. The force of her directive moved her arm, which made the water stream dance.

  Nico rolled off Shaw into a pile of now totally wet dirt. A sharp-edged piece of one of the broken pots pierced his back. Cursing and sputtering, the men struggled to their feet. Mrs. Coventry moved her wand of water on one, then the other. The fierce spray was like sharp needles against his skin. He put his arms over his face as another torrent of water pelted him. “Stop, please.”

  This seemed to do the trick. Mrs. Coventry lowered her wand of destruction. “What do you two think you’re doing?” she asked calmly as she turned the nozzle off.

  Neither of them answered. Shaw brushed dirt and several petunia heads from his shorts. Nico looked down at his beautiful pots broken on the cement. Blood grass lay flat, like dead soldiers. Creeping Jennies, with their low-reaching roots, had completely come out of the dirt. Worst of all, several stems of the pink peony bush had broken in half. A new surge of anger coursed through him. Peonies lived to be a hundred years old, and this lunatic had helped crush them.

  Mrs. Coventry, perhaps sensing his anger, raised the hose. Very threatening for an old lady.

  “Don’t do it,” Nico said. “Please.”

  “Mrs. Coventry, nice to see you,” Shaw said. “Sorry about the pots.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “I’m sure you are.”

  “How have you been?” Shaw asked.

  Mrs. Coventry nodded at him politely as if they’d just met on the sidewalk in town instead of after an onslaught of icy water. “I’m quite well, thank you.”

  Nico, unable to stop himself, stooped to try to salvage his flowers. The begonia seemed intact, although battered. Shaw knelt and started picking up broken pieces of the pots and putting them into a pile.

  “You two acting like wild beasts is doing nothing to help Sophie,” Mrs. Coventry said.

  Both men straightened.

  “Is she inside?” Shaw asked. “Because I need to talk to her.”

  “She’s already gone this morning,” Mrs. Coventry said. “She had some things to take care of before we leave on our trip.”

  “We?” Nico asked. “You’re going with her?” How could she do this to him? No, he argued with himself. This was good. Mrs. Coventry would look after her, make sure she was safe.

  “I am. She needs a break from both of you.” Using the tip of the hose like a pointer, she directed it at Shaw, then Nico.

  “This is not about her family,” Shaw said. “It’s about him. He’s run her out of town.” He tilted his head toward Nico.


  Mrs. Coventry smiled. “Do you know what’s delightful about being old?”

  Neither of them answered. Nico knew she’d tell them without further prompting.

  “My experience gives me certain insight into situations that might not occur to the younger, less experienced set. You two seem to be especially remedial when it comes to Sophie. I’m assuming, given the woman you’re married to, Zane Shaw, that you must not be this slow when it comes to all females.”

  “No, ma’am,” Shaw said. “But it took me a while to figure her out. My wife’s a great teacher. I’m a perpetual student when it comes to her.”

  She nodded, looking him up and down as if he were a great disappointment to her. “It takes no imagination to see the truth of that statement.”

  Zane grimaced. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The sky was hidden in a layer of fog. Nico shivered in the morning air, cold in his wet clothes. Mrs. Coventry wasn’t nearly done, however. He could tell she was gearing up for a stern lecture. They wouldn’t be getting out of these wet clothes any time soon.

  “Sophie is a smart young woman. She’s an old soul, like Hugh. She doesn’t need her older brother interfering in her life. Especially her love life. You don’t get to decide who she dates. Furthermore, she loves that bar and grill. If she wants to rebuild, let her. What’s it to you?”

  Shaw hung his head.

  “Seriously, what’s it to you?” Mrs. Coventry asked.

  “The Oar was my dad’s place,” Shaw said. “It was everything to him. I feel like I’ve let him down.”

  “Were you responsible for the arsonist?”

  “No, but it feels like it’s my fault,” Shaw said. “I’m worried about Sophie spending the rest of her life behind that bar like my dad did.”