But now?
One kiss and suddenly he’d been turned into a raging animal of lust and desire, eager to get his hands on the one woman who was so ill-suited for a potential relationship that it was laughable.
He turned to his side and glanced at the bedside clock and stifled a groan. Midnight and still wide-awake. He tossed the light sheet aside and rose from the bed. He checked on Carys and found her fast asleep, one foot dangling over the side of her bed like she used to do when she was a baby. Smiling, he closed her door. He double-checked the windows out of habit and then went to the private patio to watch the waves.
Larimar was a beautiful place with an enviable beachfront. He didn’t regret picking this place for their sabbatical but he had to wonder if the timing of his awakening libido had been inevitable or if it had everything to do with Lindy.
He was a red-blooded man, after all. He had to assume that he would’ve started thinking about the opposite sex and all that it entailed eventually...so maybe he needed to address some issues before he went any further down that road.
The beach called to him and since it was only a few feet from his door, he felt secure enough leaving Carys to put his feet in the water for a few minutes.
The water was like bathwater, even at midnight. Charlotte would’ve loved this place. She’d always been after him to take more time off so they could go someplace tropical. He smiled sadly. God, he wished he had brought her here before it’d been too late.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement and he strained to make out the lone figure walking the beach. He could tell it was a woman but he couldn’t tell anything beyond that. She was lost in her own thoughts, her feet splashing in the water as she walked the shore, and she didn’t realize Gabe was there until she’d almost bumped into him. It was then he realized, it was Lilah, Lindy’s twin.
“Oh!” she said, startled as she murmured an apology. “I didn’t see you there....”
“Are you okay?” he asked, peering at the woman with concern. He wasn’t sure she should be wandering the beach alone at this hour. He glanced past her in the inky darkness. “Are you with someone?”
“No. I like to walk the beach at night. Clears my head when I can’t sleep.”
“Is that safe?” he asked. Her enigmatic smile gave him pause. There was something melancholy about Lilah, something so distinctly different from her sister. “It’s pretty late.... You never know who could be out at this hour.”
“I grew up on this beach,” Lilah said by way of an answer or perhaps a gentle way of telling him to mind his own business. “Can’t sleep, either?” she asked.
He smiled with a chagrined sigh. “Appears not. I’m not usually an insomniac but tonight seems to be challenging that statement.”
Lilah regarded him openly, and he saw Lindy in that stare even though they weren’t identical. “You two are real close, huh?” he asked, not even needing to identify who he was talking about; Lilah just knew. She nodded with a smile. “Must’ve been cool to be a twin,” he mused, wondering how he might’ve been different if he’d shared a womb with another. As an only child to distant parents, he’d often wished for a sibling. It hadn’t been his and Charlotte’s choice to make Carys an only child; fate had made that decision.
“It’s hard to describe,” Lilah said, glancing out across the water. “She likes you.” She returned to Gabe. “More than she wants to, I think.”
“That makes two of us,” he murmured under his breath, shocked he’d even said it out loud, to Lindy’s sister no less. He grinned, somewhat embarrassed at letting the comment fly, and exhaled sharply as he gestured to the bungalow. “Well, I’d better get back. I don’t want to leave Carys alone for too long. Are you going to be okay? I feel uncomfortable leaving you alone this late at night.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been taking midnight walks on this beach since I was seven. Good night, Mr. Weston,” she murmured and went on her way, walking in the surf as if he’d never been there. What an odd woman, he thought to himself. As different as night and day from Lindy. Or was she? They were twins, after all. Maybe he was just seeing the surface of who Lindy was.
Well, one thing was for sure, he didn’t have the luxury of discovering what lay beyond the surface. Lindy was not the woman for him.
And as such, he ought to keep his distance.
It was a good plan...but it left him feeling let down, as if he’d just agreed to miss out on something amazing for the greater good.
He rolled his eyes at his own mental theatrics and locked the door behind him.
He wasn’t the kind of man who pined.
And he wasn’t about to start.
* * *
LINDY CRACKED ONE eyelid and groaned at the early-morning light attempting to stab her in the eyeball. She squeezed her eyelids shut and rolled away from the offending window. In her memory, Grams’s voice sounded.
“Get up, sleepyhead. You’re going to sleep your life away, child.”
Lindy had been thirteen and even then, not a fan of early rising. “I don’t want to get up,” she’d whined and pulled the covers over her head.
“Okay, but you’ll miss fresh mangoes and pancakes with blueberry syrup.”
“And sausage?” Lindy had asked from beneath her blanket, her stomach grumbling.
“And apple sausage,” Grams had confirmed. Lindy had appeared from beneath her blanket, her hair standing on end from the static electricity to see Grams retreating from the room with a handful of laundry she’d scooped from the floor of Lindy’s bedroom.
“Apple sausage,” Lindy murmured, back in the present. “Boy, Grams, I’d do anything for your apple sausages just one more time.” She sighed and her gaze roamed her floor, smiling when she saw clothes dropped where she’d left them. Not much had changed, except Grams was no longer around to tell her to pick up after herself. Damn, she missed Grams. When she was in L.A., there was always so much to do or see that she didn’t have time to remember how it hurt that Grams was gone or that her family had scattered like dandelion seeds on a stiff breeze. Lora had run off to Chicago; Lindy had run off to Los Angeles; and Lilah...well, she may not have run far, but she was just as unreachable.
Grams had tried to get them all back together again but each one of them had made excuses until it was too late.
She wished she could spend just one more hour with her grams. Grams had been their voice of reason and lately, she sorely missed that element in her life.
Grams wouldn’t have much nice to say about the crowd she ran with right now. Nothing but a bunch of superficial clungs. Maybe that wasn’t fair but sometimes Lindy caught herself wondering why the hell she hung out with those idiots. Life wasn’t all about the movie business.
At least, that’s how she used to feel.
Now? She didn’t know how she felt about anything.
Damn, maybe Lilah was right. She shouldn’t have fired that therapist. Maybe she’d been onto something when she’d stated Lindy had some issues to work through.
Isn’t that a lovely thought? Hello...you have issues.
Eh. Didn’t everyone?
Not about to continue with that mental argument, she sighed and climbed from her bed. Hopefully, there was coffee brewing. If she had to be up this early, at the very least there ought to be some very dark, very strong coffee available.
If she knew Lora, there would be. In Chicago, the woman had existed on coffee, adrenaline and hard candy alone.
She bit back the sigh when she saw Lora sitting there with her mug in hand, reading the newspaper. Well, now was as good a time as any to eat some humble pie.
“Hey,” Lindy said, going straight to the coffeepot and pouring herself some of the dark brew. “So...last night...”
“No need to rehash the past,” Lora said brusquely, focusing on her paper.
Lindy withheld the snappy comment that came to mind and took a measured sip of coffee before saying, “Yes, normally I would agree, but I seem to be suffering from an attack of conscience this morning and I feel compelled to apologize. You need to just sit there and listen for a minute so I can get this over with.”
Lora’s brow lifted but she remained silent and for that Lindy was grateful. One thing she had in common with her older sister was her difficulty in admitting when she was wrong. At least Lora knew where she was coming from.
“I was out of line last night. I came in with a bad attitude and I crapped all over your good intentions. I’m sorry. There. Short and sweet. You can return to your regularly scheduled programming.”
Lora nodded, but there was an expression of satisfaction on her face that was hard to miss. “Will you be able to speak to your producer friend today?” she asked, deftly switching subjects.
“I should be able to. He drunk-texted me around three this morning. He obviously wants to see me.”
“That sounds like a booty call.”
Lindy shrugged. “I didn’t say how I knew him.”
Lora grimaced as if she didn’t want to know that kind of information about her sister and chose to let it go. “All right. Let me know how it goes. I’ve made a few calls to friends in Chicago, planted a few feelers.”
“How do you think Grams would feel about all of this?” Lindy asked.
At the mention of Grams, Lora’s expression dimmed but there was a determination in her eyes that would’ve done Grams proud. “I’ve wrestled with that for a while and I’ve come to the conclusion that Grams loved this place and she would’ve done anything to keep it if it were ever threatened and so that’s how I’ve had to look at this. Pops isn’t going to get better—he’s going to get worse. We need to get something going now before all of our energy is needed to take care of him.”
Lindy rubbed at her eyes, swamped by sadness. “Most times he seems just like he ever was,” she said. “But then he’ll say something off and it reminds me that we’re slowly losing him. It’s hard to take, Lora. It hurts so much.”
That quiet admission was about as much sharing as Lindy had ever done with Lora and it felt foreign but as much as she fought it, Lindy needed her older sister.
“I know,” Lora acknowledged hoarsely. “We just have to take each day as it comes. Celebrate the good days and accept the bad.”
“I hate that plan,” Lindy groused with complete honesty. “But I suppose you’re right. I still hate it, though.”
“Me, too.”
Lindy shared a look with her sister and they both smiled in understanding. After several minutes of puttering around the kitchen to find something for breakfast, Lora casually asked, “So, what’s the deal with inviting Gabe Weston and his daughter to dinner last night?”
Lindy had hoped not to have this particular conversation but she supposed that hope had been a fruitless one.
“He’s having some issues with his kid and I thought dinner might help them reconnect. It’s no big deal,” she said defensively.
“I didn’t say it was,” Lora said. “I was just asking. It seemed a little odd given the fact you were ready to hang the twerp only yesterday.”
“Her name is Carys and I didn’t realize at the time that she was just acting out. She lost her mom a year ago to cancer and her dad doesn’t seem to want to talk with her about it. And she really needs to be able to talk about her mom because it’s festering inside. I know how that feels.”
“I can’t remember you ever being silent about anything,” Lora quipped wryly, at which Lindy shrugged.
“But maybe I wasn’t talking about the right things. I never had anyone but Lilah to talk to about losing Mom and then Grams. It took its toll on me just as it did with you and Lilah.”
“Lilah seems to be the only one without any serious issues from her childhood. Honestly, that girl flits through life like a butterfly on a breeze. I wish I had her life sometimes,” Lora said, chuckling.
But Lindy didn’t find her comment funny. She knew Lora was oblivious to what was happening with Lilah but it still made her prickly to hear her talk about her twin like that. Lindy chose her words carefully because she didn’t want to start a fight but she wanted Lora to know all was not well with their baby sis. “I think Lilah needs help.”
“What do you mean?” Lora asked, her smile fading. “Has she said something?”
“No. Not really. It’s a feeling. I mean, we had a conversation the other day that made some alarm bells go off in my head even though she assured me she’s fine, which I don’t believe at all. I think she’s depressed.”
Lora waved away Lindy’s concern with a sigh. “That’s not surprising. All this pressure to save Larimar would depress anyone. If I didn’t have Heath to tell me that it’s all going to work out, I’d cry myself to sleep every night.”
“It’s not just Larimar,” Lindy said, shaking her head. “It’s something deeper. I’m really worried.”
At that Lora paused, taking Lindy’s real concern into consideration. A flash of guilt crossed her features as she admitted, “I’ve been harsh on her lately. Maybe I should talk to her.”
“No, not yet. She’ll feel attacked and she’ll withdraw some more. Let me think about it and I’ll figure something out.”
“Okay,” Lora agreed, and Lindy quietly took note how Lora was trusting her to know what was best for her twin. Lora was really changing and it wasn’t just surface deep. Did that mean there was hope for Lindy to change, too? Wait, did she want to change? The question hovered in her mind, branching into all manner of confusing thoughts in different directions. Her life was a hyperactive jumble of constantly changing scenarios, yet oddly, everything had started to feel the same. Same people, same parties, same old drama. When did she stop enjoying all that? This was stupid, she thought with a flash of irritation. Now was not the time to get all introspective. She loved her life. And frankly, there were plenty in the biz who would gladly take her spot. Enough said. Lindy shook herself. Way too deep a conversation for this early in the morning. She grabbed her coffee and a banana. “Well, I’m off to shower and meet up with my producer guy.”
“If you feel compelled to sacrifice your dignity for the sake of Larimar, at least know that it’s for a good cause,” Lora joked, sipping her coffee.
Lindy barked a laugh. “I’m an out-of-work actress in L.A. I don’t have any dignity left to sacrifice!”
CHAPTER TEN
LINDY WALKED DOWN the marina and hailed Billy as she approached. His grin lit up his eyes when he saw who was coming aboard.
“Yah come to make me a happy mon?” Billy teased as Lindy kissed him on the cheek.
“I need a ride to St. Thomas. You busy?” she asked.
“I’d do anyting for yah—yah know dat,” Billy answered. “What’s in St. Thomas?”
“A friend.” Even as she said the word, she had to amend it. “A work acquaintance. He’s shooting a film in St. Thomas and I’m trying to convince him to lodge some of his people here at Larimar.”
Billy scowled. “Why yah bring does Hollywood people here and spoil our island? Leave dem be in St. Thomas. Good place for dem.”
“Now, Billy...a lot of those people have deep pockets. Don’t you want some of that green in your pockets?”
“I have plenty of green,” he retorted but he nodded just the same. “Well, whatevah. I bring yah there. Anyting for yah, Lindy.”
“I knew I could count on you.” Lindy grinned and went to the front of the boat, settling into a nice comfortable spot with her face to the sun. This was what she missed most about living on the island. All the high school kids were ferried to St. Thomas each day and she loved the ride. As she got older, she found friends who used their parents’ boats to go island-hopping. It�
�d been a privileged experience, for sure.
They were on their way when Billy asked, “Everyting all right with Li?”
His question rang a chord of concern inside Lindy that clanged more loudly when coupled with her own misgivings. She regarded him apprehensively. “Why do you ask?”
“I see her walking late at night...way too late for her to be safe,” Billy said, his voice grave. “She need to be more careful. Bad people come to de island, too. It’s not like it used to be when we were kids.”
“How late are we talking?” Lindy asked.
“Sometime three, sometime two. Never the same. But late.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Last night. I saw her walking de beach.”
“Last night?” Lindy asked, confused. “Are you sure? I was with her until eleven and she said she was pretty tired and was going straight to bed.”
“I know what I see. It’s Lilah.”
She didn’t bother disputing what Billy knew. Larimar was a long walk to town. Why would Lilah walk so far, so late? It didn’t make sense. Worse, the knowledge created a cold knot of fear in her stomach. What the hell was going on with Lilah?
“Thanks, Billy. I’ll check it out,” she assured him and he looked relieved enough to return to the business of sailing, but Lindy wasn’t relieved at all. In fact, she felt the overwhelming urge to tell Billy to turn the boat around and head back to the marina.
But even as the impulse was strong, she knew she had to follow through with this meeting or else they might lose an opportunity to help Larimar, at least in the short term.
* * *
CARYS FOUND HERSELF alone and bored, again, as her father tended some pressing detail that couldn’t wait another second, and when she’d gone looking for Lindy she’d been disappointed to learn she’d gone to St. Thomas for the day. Carys pouted. Lindy had promised a rain check on the ice cream, but now she was nowhere to be seen. Typical adult behavior. Make a promise and then find a way to wiggle out of it.
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