The Bad Boys of Eden

by Avery Aster

  A little smile touched his lips. “You’re capable of more than you know. But there’s no pressure. We can sit on the sand and stare at the ocean for days if that’s what you want to do.” He reached out and put his hands on my shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “And if you freak out, I’ll be there to get you through it. Meltdowns can be cleansing for the soul.”

  “Right,” I said, deadpan.

  “No, I’m serious. First time I went skydiving, I had a full-fledged panic attack on the plane—couldn’t breathe, thought I was going to die. But once I went through it and had my freak out, there was only calm waiting on the other side. Sometimes in life, we need to press the big red panic button and let ourselves have that moment—sirens blaring, arms flailing, all rational thought gone. It reminds us that we’re human and that fear is real but also that we’re strong enough to survive it.”

  I leaned forward and pressed the top of my head to his shoulder. “Do you think there’s skydiving on the island? Because that calm afterglow sounds like a lovely, peaceful place.”

  His hand cupped the back of my head. “I’m not sure about skydiving, but I’m sure there’ll be a number other ways to give you that kind of rush and afterglow.”

  I laughed and peeked upward. “Are you flirting with me, Burke Brennan?”

  “Always.” His expression was pure mischief—classic Burke—but there was a warmth beneath it that made my chest constrict with affection.

  This was a good man. And a better friend. If I could l let go for a few days with anyone, it would be with him.

  I stepped back, resolve coming over me, and nodded. “Well, I guess this time the flirting worked. What should I pack?”

  Victory lit his face. “Seriously?”

  “Tell me what to pack before I change my mind.”

  He gave me an up and down perusal. “I’m thinking sunscreen and a really small, preferably sheer bikini. I’m a minimalist, you know. Good for the environment.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, you’re shameless.”

  He leaned over and gave me a quick peck of a kiss. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, cher.”

  A hot current went through me. And as he turned and walked toward his room, giving me an unencumbered view of his well-honed backside, a heaping dose of pure anticipation settled over me. I smiled, welcoming the unfamiliar feeling. I hadn’t had anything to look forward to in a long damn time.

  And this was a helluva lot to anticipate.

  We would go to this island, and he wouldn’t be my friend or Harris’s little brother. He’d simply be a man I desired. He’d be a fantasy. He’d be someone else.

  And so would I.

  Ghosts couldn’t haunt a stranger.

  Chapter 6

  ~ Burke ~

  The small seaplane dipped and swayed for what seemed like the hundredth time, and Gretchen’s face turned a paler shade of gray-green. Burke eyed her, fighting back the urge to ask her again if there was anything he could do to help. Last time, she’d snapped at him and threatened to gag him if he kept babying her. I’m fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Always her mantra. But he knew better. Because though she was lying back in a seemingly relaxed way with her headphones on, her fingers had gone bloodless from gripping the arms of her seat like she expected to be ejected from her spot at any moment.

  He shifted in his seat, wishing he could find some way to distract her from the bumpy plane ride. But he didn’t want her in full defensive mode before they arrived on the island. He still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to go on the trip in the first place. He’d expected her to back out once she had a day or two to ruminate over all the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this. But every day this week, she’d stayed at his house and had never wavered from her decision. And she hadn’t walked in her sleep. So he’d taken that to mean she’d come to some sort of peace with the decision.

  But right now, she looked as if she’d rather be in a dentist chair getting a root canal than here on this plane. And frankly, as they got closer and closer to the island, the wind causing more and more turbulence, he didn’t blame her. Normally, a rough plane ride didn’t get to him. He’d been on small aircraft and had flown through storms worse than this one, but for some reason, this one was making him restless and edgy. It felt like wherever they were going didn’t quite want them there. Like it was giving them a warning and a chance to turn around. The notion was ridiculous, but he couldn’t shake the weird dread that had overtaken him when the plane had lifted into the air.

  Maybe it was all that hokey folklore about the Bermuda Triangle. He didn’t buy any of that superstitious crap. When the pilot, Joely, had informed him that his electronics may get a little wonky once they got on their way, it hadn’t fazed him. But then he’d seen Joely’s instrument panel go nuts an hour outside of Florida airspace. He’d been on enough flights to know that wasn’t normal.

  Joely had assured him that it happened on occasion in The Devil’s Triangle, as she called it, and that she could get to the island with her eyes closed if necessary. With the storm they’d run into, that turned out to be a damn important skill because she was basically flying blind. Of course, Burke hadn’t mentioned that tidbit to Gretchen and was trying to ignore it himself. But that growing sense of unease was potent.

  The island knows what you need. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted whatever that was.

  Worries lined up in his head, fighting for attention. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed Gretchen to do this. Maybe he should’ve continued taking it slow with her. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  But before the anxiety could run away with him, Gretchen reached out and grabbed his hand. He peered over at her, and she gave him fragile smile. “You look a little pale, hot stuff. Want to share my ginger ale?”

  The simple endearment and the way she laced her fingers with his did something to him. Despite their friendship, Gretchen was always so careful around him. He would playfully flirt. She would deflect and make a joke. So to hear her speak to him with some level of intimate ease made the nightmare plane ride more than worth it. She was keeping her promise. They would leave the other stuff back home. Right now, they were just two people, who were into each other, going on a vacation.

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the tops of her knuckles. “I’ll be okay. I think we’re almost there.”

  “Thank God for that.” She sat up straighter and pulled her earbuds from her ears. “Otherwise, we’ll be sharing the vomit bag, too.”

  He bumped her shoulder with his. “Oh, cher, you say the sexiest things to me.”

  “I know. It’s a gift.”

  The plane gave another jolt, and her grip tightened on his hand. He squeezed hers back. “Almost there. Just focus on the fact that a big ass margarita is only minutes away.”

  She rubbed her lips together—something he’d noticed she often did when she was nervous—and turned toward the window. For most of the flight, there’d been nothing but dark, ominous clouds, but now the ocean was peeking through the haze. They were lower than he thought.

  Gretchen leaned forward, getting so close to the window that her nose almost touched it. “Whoa, look at that.”

  Burke shifted, stretching over her lap, and squinted at the view. In the distance, the clouds were low and wispy, no longer thick enough to obscure the stretch of sand, green, and rock beneath them. Shafts of light broke through the clouds and touched the island with long, bright fingers, illuminating things in a haphazard pattern, leaving some parts darkened and other parts glowing. But even in the dappled sunlight, it was impossible to miss the island’s centerpiece—a large European style castle that stood sentry over the pristine land below.

  “Did we take a wrong turn and end up in Scotland or something?” Gretchen asked, her eyes never leaving the view. “That’s quite a setup.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know much about the guy who owns the island, but I read that he had the castle built when he bought the land. Apparently, it’s authentic. He had th
e pieces shipped here from somewhere in Europe and reconstructed.”

  “Damn. That seems like a lot of work and expense.”

  Burke shrugged. “Bored billionaires can get up to all kinds of weird shit. And it seems this one is more eccentric than most. Not many people get to meet him.”

  “Is that who invited you?”

  He frowned. Was it? He had no idea. It’d been more like the island itself inviting him. “I just got an invite to check the place out. So all I know is that our expenses are covered. Beyond that, it will be an adventure for me as much as you.”

  “Prepare for landing,” Joely announced. “Looks like the storm finally gave us a break, but the waves are real choppy. Could be bumpy setting her down.”

  Burke leaned back in his seat, and both he and Gretchen checked their seat belts. The dread still lingered in him as they made their descent, but anticipation for what the week could hold pushed out the grim thoughts. He would get a week with Gretchen, complete with white sand beaches, a fairy tale castle, and an unlimited budget. If he couldn’t get her to relax and enjoy herself here, then they were a hopeless cause.

  So as he held her hand and watched the ocean get closer and closer to the plane, a smile touched his lips and a buoyant feeling filled his chest. No more worrying. This would be good.

  But that hopeful, airy feeling lasted about thirty seconds.

  Because one minute they were easing downward, and the next, they were hitting the waves with the force of a car crash. Wham! Luggage tumbled. Metal groaned. And the last sounds Burke heard were the buckle on Gretchen’s seatbelt giving way and the sick thud of her colliding with the ceiling as the plane landed hard on the unforgiving surf.

  He yanked off his own belt and launched himself toward her. But by the time he vaulted over the fallen luggage and got ahold of her, she was limp in his arms.

  * * *

  Burke paced the cabana, one hand gripped in his hair, as he fought hard not to demand answers from the older woman who was leaning over an unconscious Gretchen. How could this lady be so goddamned calm? Gretchen was out cold, and they weren’t anywhere near a hospital. She could be seriously injured or in a coma or…God, he didn’t want to think about it.

  Dr. Magdalene sent him a look, her smooth dark skin wrinkling with something that resembled amusement. “You keep that up and I’ll have to give you medication. Take a seat and relax, young man. You have nothing to worry about.”

  He held a hand out toward Gretchen’s prone form. “How do you know that? Look at her, she’s—”

  “Taken a bump to the head. But she’s already on the way back to us. All of her vitals are fine, and her reflexes are responding nicely.” She draped her stethoscope around her neck, which seemed out of place against her brightly colored flowered dress.

  “Wait, she’s coming out of it?”

  “See for yourself.” Dr. Magdalene gave Gretchen’s arm a little squeeze. “Can you open your eyes for us, dear?”

  Gretchen stirred, letting out a small groan, and her hand clamped over her forehead.

  Burke rushed to the side of the bed. “Gretch?”

  “Hmm?” Her face turned toward him and dazed green eyes blinked his way. “Burke?”

  Relief nearly brought him to his knees. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh, cher. Yes, it’s me. Thank God you’re okay.”

  “What happened?” Her voice sounded like she’d swallowed a bag of pebbles.

  “The plane took a hard landing. You banged your head.”

  “Guess that explains the sledgehammer pounding at my brain.” Her words were groggy and slow, but she shifted to push herself up on her elbows.

  “Hey, easy now,” he said. “Don’t move too fast.”

  As per usual, she didn’t listen to his advice. She sat up and rubbed her hands over her face. Despite what she’d been through, the color in her cheeks had returned, and she looked a hundred times better than she had on the plane ride. She glanced at Dr. Magdalene. “You’re the doctor?”

  “I am.”

  “Great. Please, tell me this place has a pharmacy.”

  Dr. Magdalene smiled and something about the way her brown eyes glittered made Burke think of Gretchen’s grandmother. Even into her eighties, Gretchen’s gran had maintained a certain youthfulness in her gaze—like the sparkle of a smart, mischievous child who refused to accept the confines of adulthood. “I’m having them send over a special mix of herbal tea. It will get rid of the headache quicker than any pill.”

  Burke frowned. “I think a couple of ibuprofen would do just fine.”

  He didn’t care where they were. He wasn’t up for any mumbo jumbo holistic stuff right now. God only knew what would be in the tea.

  Gretchen put a hand on his knee. “The tea will be fine. My gran used to swear by the stuff. One of the blends we sell in her store always works for me. I think it has ginger in it.”

  The doctor patted Gretchen’s hand. “This one does, too. Now let’s check you for a concussion. After that, you’ll be free to get started on your vacation with your handsome, but very nervous, boyfriend.”

  “Oh, I’m not—”

  “Thank you,” Gretchen said, cutting him off. “I’m glad this isn’t going to interfere with our trip.”

  Burke’s eyebrows lifted. So that was how she was going to play this? He had no problem at all being called her boyfriend. But he would’ve thought she’d uncomfortable with it—even if they were just pretending.

  “Look this way, dear,” the doctor said, shining a light at Gretchen’s eyes. “Yes, yes, this is all good.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Burke got off the bed to answer it. He opened the door and the distant roar of the ocean spilled into the room. A young guy with bright red, windswept hair lifted a tray. “Your tea, sir.”

  Burke took the tray and set it aside then grabbed for his wallet to get a tip. But when he held the money out, the guy waved it off.

  “No tips needed, sir. Everything is taken care of here. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  Burke tucked the money back into his wallet. “No, thank you. We’re good.”

  By the time Burke brought the tea tray over, the doctor had finished examining Gretchen and had tucked back the curtains to let more of the afternoon light in. The two women laughed about something as he set the tray on the side table, and the full, robust sound of Gretch’s laugh nearly made him drop all of it. He hadn’t heard that sound in at least a year. Before Harris’s death, she’d been that girl who always laughed a little too loud, one whose voice would travel above the din. Or maybe he just had an ear for her particular notes and cadence. He’d always been able to pick her out in a crowded room. But either way, he’d forgotten how full of exuberance she could be.

  He grinned and handed her the tea. “What’s so funny?”

  “She tried to test how my brain’s working by asking me math questions. I told her I must be perpetually concussed because I can’t do math even without a blow to the head.”

  “Well, you answered most of the easy questions,” the doctor said. “I thought I’d test you with something harder to make sure this one over here believes me when I give you a clean bill of health.”

  The tension in Burke’s shoulders released. “She’s okay?”

  “Yes.” Dr. Magdalene gave her own thigh a little slap and stood. “She’ll have a headache, maybe a little dizziness. And there seems to be some temporary memory loss. There were a few questions she struggled with besides the math one.”

  “Like what?”

  “I can’t remember when we planned this trip. Or how we got here,” Gretchen admitted.

  He didn’t like the sound of that. And if she didn’t remember planning the trip, how did she remember the agreement they’d made to pretend they were two other people? The boyfriend thing had made it seem like she remembered all of it.

  “It’s all pretty normal with a mild concussion. She might not ever remember the plane ride, but the rest wil
l probably come back. Just take it easy this evening. No crazy activities and don’t go swimming. Other than that, she should be fine to enjoy the island. Either of you can check in with me tomorrow morning at the main house if you have any questions or concerns.”

  They thanked the doctor, and Burke walked her out.

  He turned back to Gretchen after the door clicked shut. “Maybe we should just hang out here. Let you rest. It’s pretty late in the afternoon already.”

  Gretchen set her tea down and stretched her neck. “No way. As nice as this cabana is, I don’t want to be cooped up for the rest of the day. I’m sure I can handle walking around. We could check out the beach and watch the sunset.”

  “Cher, I don’t know.”

  But she ignored him, flipping aside the covers and climbing out of the bed. She strolled over to him with a smile and poked a finger to his chest. “I do know. The tea is already helping my head, and I feel fine otherwise. We’re not going to waste a whole evening.”

  “You’re a bossy thing. You know that?”

  “This is not news. Get your swim trunks on. I can’t go in the water, but I can at least enjoy watching you strut around half-naked on the beach.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him—kissed him like it was the most natural, casual thing ever, like they’d done it a thousand times before.

  The shock must’ve shown on his face because her grin went wide. He put his hands on her shoulders, marveling at the sparkle in her eyes. She was flirting with him? He knew they were here to let go, but he hadn’t expected her to jump in with both feet. “Gretch, are you sure that—”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Burke. Too much worrying and not enough action. I don’t remember planning the trip, but I know we’re here to have some fun and enjoy ourselves.”

  He cocked his head, eyeing her skeptically. “So you’re all in, huh?”

  “Is there any other way to be on vacation?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew herself closer to him. “Let’s do this.”