On Love's Gentle Shore

by Liz Johnson

  Mama Kane replied to his question with one of her own. “Did you talk to her about using it for an event of some sort?”

  He scrunched up his face, searching for that memory and why his mom had brought it up after an almost-argument about Natalie O’Ryan. “I guess so.”

  Marie had sought him out at church weeks ago. Her eyes wide and flashing with excitement, she had barreled across the lawn, waving toward him. Caden Holt tried to stop her but then let her go with a quick nod. He had a sudden urge to run. Anywhere would be better than on the end of Marie Sloane’s razor focus. But when he looked around there was no escape. Bethany Burke’s blonde hair whipped over her shoulder as she shot him a predatory smile from his right. To his left, the ladies’ auxiliary contingent circled. He wasn’t looking for Marie, but she was still the best option.

  When Marie made it to him, she heaved a loud breath and doubled over, one hand on his arm, the other on her stomach. Then she stretched away from him so far he couldn’t believe her back didn’t pop. “Oy. I’ve got to quit eating so many of Caden’s cinnamon rolls. But I’m just hungry all the time. You know what I mean?”

  He didn’t have a clue what she meant, but arguing with her wasn’t going to hurry this conversation along, so he nodded. “Can I help you with something?”

  Her eyebrows danced twice. “Caden told me you have a building at the dairy that you’re not using.”

  He froze, terrified to confirm it and even more so to deny it, because there was a determination in her eyes that was not going to be denied. His gaze flicked past her ear and landed on Seth Sloane, who Justin could swear gave him a shrug that seemed to suggest it wasn’t worth putting up a fight.

  If Seth and his uncle Jack were to be believed, Marie had nearly single-handedly wrestled the old house along the harbor into the shining, thriving inn that it had become in just three seasons. According to the rumor mill, she was also battling some kind of court case back in the States. He didn’t listen long enough to pick up any particulars, but he’d gathered enough to know she was more force of nature than neighbor.

  Of course, the whole town adored her.

  He nodded slowly. “The old milking barn.”

  “Is that the one by the gorgeous cliff?”

  Gorgeous was a generous term for the steep drop into the water. But it did have some nice views of the ocean and enough surrounding red cliffs to satisfy even the most ardent Anne fan. “Sure.”

  “What would you think about renting it out?”

  “What kind of livestock?”

  Her dark lashes blinked in an otherwise immobile face, confusion finally easing as her whole face erupted in a smile. White teeth flashing and laughter lacing her words, she said, “The human kind.”

  “Human?” Clearly. He should have known. She wasn’t a farmer. She worked with people. But he still couldn’t wrap his head around why she would want to put people in his old barn. That’s why she’d spent months renovating the inn. If they were running out of space already, there was room on the inn’s property to expand. Why would she want his barn?

  “You know. People.”

  He nodded mutely, her answer doing nothing to solve his own confusion.

  By some miracle she read the shrug of his shoulder accurately, her smile going even wider. “For events.”

  He bit his tongue to keep from parroting her last word, and she seemed to understand that he still didn’t have enough information.

  “Some of the inn’s guests are coming to the island for special events, and I’d like to be able to offer them a few location suggestions. Of course, you’d be paid for the space and any of your time. But there aren’t a lot of venues large enough for bigger events on the north shore—especially not near the Crick.”

  “What about the community center?” It popped out before he really thought about why he was suggesting an alternative. After all, he had no real use for the barn, and he could sure put some extra cash to good use.

  Maybe it would be enough to get him into a real recording studio.

  As soon as the image of the barn flashed into his mind, he shook off the idea of renting it out—and whatever dreams that might finally afford him. It would cost more to refurbish the barn than it would to tear the place down. Besides, the dairy didn’t exactly run itself. He couldn’t just abandon his responsibilities on the farm to focus on an outdated outbuilding that might bring in a couple hundred bucks.

  Marie nodded slowly. “The community center is nice, but you can only fit six round tables and a small dance floor in it. That’s not big enough.”

  “For what?”

  “Oh, you know. Bigger events.” She waved her hand around between them, her smile turning secretive.

  Actually, he didn’t know what bigger events she meant, but he shook his head for another reason. “I don’t think so. It’s an old barn. Mostly gutted, but it’s not in good shape.”

  The light in her eyes dimmed for the briefest moment. “Well, Seth and I can help you with that.”

  “You don’t even know how much work it needs.”

  “We’ll figure it out. Seth was a contractor, you know.”

  He’d heard that. And seen the new gables on the old inn. Seth wouldn’t have any trouble with the barn. But why his barn? He squinted at her, trying to read her reasons in the features of her face. Instead he saw the set of her jaw and the line of her mouth.

  From across the yard Seth caught his eye again and followed up with a nod that seemed to say, “Give in now. You’re not going to beat her.”

  Justin kept his chuckle to himself. Maybe it wasn’t worth it to fight Marie over the barn. She’d probably get a close survey of the sagging walls and tired wood and walk away, so he shrugged. “Sure. If you really want to take a look at it. Just call the house,” he said.

  But that conversation had been weeks ago, and she hadn’t said anything more about it. He’d assumed it was a passing interest, no more than a flippant thought. All of her event suggestions had been vague at best.

  That didn’t stop a bucket of dread from gnawing its way into his belly and settling in like it was paying rent.

  His mom crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head in his direction. “Marie wants to come by and take a look at the barn on Friday.”

  “All right. Can you show it to her?”

  “I’ll be at the farmer’s market selling cheese all day.”

  Of course. “Then let’s do it later this week.”

  “Or you could take care of it, since you agreed to it in the first place.”

  He sighed. Just because she was right didn’t mean he wanted to give in, even if he could rearrange his schedule. And his best friend and right-hand man, Dillon Holt, could probably take care of midday chores for one afternoon. But it would mean throwing off his schedule. “Mom, you’d be much better at it than I would.”

  She harrumphed. “Probably. But still not my problem.”

  Arguing with her was about as effective as arguing with Marie, so he let out a tight breath. “All right.”

  “She’s bringing a guest from the inn with her.” She held his gaze, hers intense and filled with trouble. “They’re looking for a place to hold a wedding.”

  Like a cow had kicked over the bucket in his stomach, dread splashed out until it reached the ends of his fingers and the tips of his toes.

  He didn’t need her to go on. The truth was as plain as the blue-and-white lighthouse on the edge of his property.

  And it sucked all the air out of the room.

  “It’s Natalie’s wedding.”

  3

  Natalie was pretty sure she’d never tasted anything as good as Caden’s blackberry drizzle muffins—made from locally grown berries, fresh lemon zest, and a heavy dose of island sun. The sharp flavors tasted like her childhood. Like running barefoot through the back pasture and dodging bellowing cows. Like picking ripe blackberries until her fingers were stained purple and her teeth crunched the seeds.

  She p
opped the last bite into her mouth, letting the sugary frosting dissolve on her tongue, and leaned back with a sigh.

  “I told you.” Across the breakfast table, Adam’s smile turned into more of a smirk as he dug into his second muffin. Apparently extra sweets were one of the perks of being the chef’s boyfriend.

  Maybe that included extended family too. After all, they were about to be family. Six weeks and two days and counting.

  Her thumb found the band of her engagement ring and wiggled the enormous diamond, which caught the light shining through the windows behind her. The sparkle was nearly blinding, but she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from it, even as Russell reached out and pressed his hand over hers. His squeeze was gentle. She tried to return his smile, but her lips felt numb.

  Clearly a result of too much sugar after dieting for the last six months. Her wedding dress didn’t have an elastic waist, and she was going to have to be careful or she wouldn’t fit into it on the big day.

  “You weren’t lying,” Russell said. “She’s very talented. And she works with Jerome Gale, you said?”

  Natalie was only familiar with Jerome Gale as Canada’s premier chef because he’d hosted an event at Nashville’s performing arts center the winter before. It had been some sort of foodie haven with demonstrations and tastings and enough wine to float a cruise ship. Every guest at the Heritage Hotel where she worked had asked her to get them tickets.

  Every guest had been disappointed. The tickets had sold out in a matter of hours.

  Despite her lack of knowledge about the Canadian food scene, she recognized how prestigious Caden’s work was, so she leaned an elbow on the table and nodded in Adam’s direction.

  “Yep. During the school year she teaches an after-school program for students in low-income communities in Toronto, which she designed and started with Jerome.” Adam’s Southern drawl came out as he bragged on Caden. “And it’s expanding next year. They’ve had so much interest that they’re adding a second section in another part of the city.”

  Suddenly the blonde at the center of their conversation strode out of the kitchen and straight to their table. She stood behind the empty chair directly across from Natalie, resting her hands on the curved section of dark wood.

  A strand of hair had escaped her French braid, and she tucked it behind her ear. “Natalie, it’s so good to see you again.” Caden’s eyes shone so brightly that Natalie couldn’t doubt her sincerity.

  But it didn’t deflate the balloon expanding in her chest. It was one thing to be back on the island with people who hadn’t been around when the O’Ryans nearly set the town’s gossip mill on fire. It was entirely different to be face-to-face with someone whose hand-me-downs she’d been forced to wear.

  Bile built in the back of her throat, and she swallowed it, which only set her eyes to burning. Perfect. She was about start crying because one time Mrs. Holt had slipped her a bag of clothes after Sunday school, and even though they were two sizes too big, she’d worn them. Because they were clean. And they smelled like sunshine instead of liquor and regret.

  That was a rabbit hole she couldn’t afford to go down. That led to her mom and dad. Two faces she would not be seeing on the island. Two figures she didn’t need to think about.

  Time to find her concierge mask.

  Letting out a quick breath through her nose, she bit her lips together and dropped her gaze to where Russell still held her hand, comforting and stable and all the things she’d never known when she lived on the island. When she looked back up, she plastered a smile into place. “Thanks. It’s good to see you too.”

  “What have you been up to? Adam said you’re in Nashville with—” Suddenly her eyes grew rounder, and her mouth pinched closed, regret blanketing her features.

  Natalie knew that look.

  It was always the same when someone let slip that they’d been talking about her. Or her parents.

  And that happened a lot. People talked, and then suddenly seemed embarrassed about it when they were caught in their web of gossip. But Natalie had nothing to be ashamed of now.

  Scooting to the edge of her seat, she leaned her elbows on the table and turned up her smile. “Yes. I’ve been in Nashville for fifteen years already, and I’m the concierge at the Heritage Hotel downtown.”

  Caden nodded enthusiastically, but it was clear that she didn’t—couldn’t—understand what her title meant. Apparently Russell picked up on that too. “It’s the best hotel in town. It’s a beautiful old building, but they’ve remodeled it into luxury accommodations. All the celebrities stay there when they visit, and they all count on Natalie to help make their trips special.”

  A warm flush reached her cheeks, and she squeezed his hand. He was always quick to speak highly of her, but she had wondered once or twice if it was because it made her look good or because it made him look good.

  “That’s wonderful.” Caden beamed like she really meant it. “I’m not at all surprised. You could talk the teachers into changing their lesson plans or convince Harrison to give out free burgers when we were kids. You’re so good with people.”

  Natalie wasn’t quite sure if Caden herself believed that last line. Maybe it was a jab at all the animosity between her and the people of North Rustico. Or maybe Caden just chose not to remember the way it was.

  Natalie didn’t seem to have that luxury.

  Russell continued. “Her boss was pretty disappointed when Natalie requested a leave of absence this summer.” He winked at Caden. “But when I promised to hold my label’s Christmas party at the hotel this year, he agreed to the time off.”

  “Is it good to be back?” Caden asked.

  She attempted a response but sucked in an unexpected breath instead, and it caught in the back of her throat. Sputtering and coughing, she chugged half a glass of water as Russell thumped her back.

  “Okay, babe?”

  By the time her gasps ended, every head in the room was turned in her direction, and she hunched into her chair. But there would be no disappearing. “Fine. Yes. I’m good.”

  The air hung thick with silence until Caden nodded toward the empty plates on the table. “How was your breakfast?”

  “Perfect.” Adam snuck his arm around her waist, tugging her a few steps closer to him and smiling with a warmth that even Natalie could feel.

  Even though they’d been dating for almost a year, Caden’s cheeks turned pink and she brushed at his hand, which stayed rooted on her colorful apron.

  Russell squeezed Natalie’s hand again, and she tried to read his feelings in his features, which were so similar to his brother’s. The sharp lines of his jaw met at a cleft in his chin, but where Adam seemed to always wear a five o’clock shadow, Russell looked like he’d shaved just a few minutes before. No matter the time of day. And the smooth planes of his face showed no particular emotion. His dark eyes were no more help in deciphering the reason for his grip.

  Only the easy curve of his lips hinted at his happiness.

  But it was enough. He was glad to be on the island. He was with his brother. Seeing his brother happy. It was enough to make Russell happy.

  So it was enough to make her happy.

  Except for a persistent bubble in her stomach, which she wouldn’t quite label as such.

  “So, Adam tells us that you teach cooking classes,” Russell said.

  Again, the red in Caden’s cheeks burned bright, but it couldn’t outshine her smile. “Yes. I’ve been teaching teenagers for a little over a year, and I’m starting classes for guests here at the inn next week.”

  Russell sat up a little straighter, bending forward at his hips. “For adults?” His gaze flicked to Natalie, and it matched his mischievous smile.

  Oh no. No. This wasn’t good. Not even a little bit.

  She shook her head hard, but his grin only grew.

  He knew she couldn’t cook.

  Didn’t cook.

  Didn’t try.

  Some things—like kitchens—were
n’t in her purview.

  And she hadn’t even pretended they were when they first met.

  A cooking class would succeed in doing exactly one thing: putting her lack of skill on display for everyone to see. Which sounded about as fun as being stung by a jellyfish.

  Natalie tapped his arm to get his attention at the same moment Caden confirmed the classes. “They’ll be in the afternoons on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and you can sign up with Marie. We’ll limit it to three couples per class, and we’ll be cooking a few local favorites like potatoes and lobster.”

  Caden’s little shudder on the last word drew Natalie’s attention, and a memory appeared from deep in the recesses of her mind—Caden at the annual lobster cook-off and fund-raiser, cringing as she tore apart an orange claw. Her eyes had filled with tears as Bethany Burke poked fun at her. Until Justin scowled and waved his fork at the most popular girl in school, sending a stream of butter onto her sweater. “Leave her be or else.” The threat and the fork were better than a sword at shutting her up.

  Natalie had only been there because Mama Kane insisted she go. “Someone has to keep my son in line. And you’ve won the lottery.”

  “Or lost,” Natalie muttered.

  Mama Kane laughed until she doubled over, her giggles bellowing to the ceiling and rolling down the walls. It had only been funny because they both knew it was a lie.

  “Well, sign us up.” Russell’s words hung out there like underclothes on the line, too embarrassing to take down after someone else had pinned them up for the whole town to see.

  He must have caught the terror in her eyes and read it as uncertainty instead of the debilitating fever that made sweat pepper her neck. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  With stiff shoulders, she managed a half shrug. It wasn’t necessarily agreement, but Russell didn’t need that.

  “We said we’d do some fun things this summer. A pre-honeymoon and all that.”

  Adam’s eyebrows hitched, and Caden’s stare turned questioning. “Pre-honeymoon?” she said.

  Russell nodded as though it was the most normal thing in the world. “Sure. It’s a honeymoon before the wedding. My label is dropping some big albums in August, and I need to be in the office, so we’re having our vacation before the wedding.”