by Avery Aster
He slouched in the booth and took a long draw from his glass of scotch, letting his gaze rove over the room. There were people on the crowded dance floor and couples paired off at candlelit tables. The steady hum of conversation was almost as loud as the music. On first glance, he’d never suspect that this place was anything but a luxury resort. And to many, that was all it probably was. He doubted these people were here to find ghosts.
Based on some of the rooms he’d passed and how some guests were dressed (or not dressed), he’d venture that most people simply came here to get well laid. Every fantasy was there for the taking—dungeons, group rooms, opulent suites. Debauchery on tap. Pick your flavor.
He’d had to force himself to stop looking through doorways, because he couldn’t help picturing what it would’ve been like to bring Gretchen here—the Gretchen who’d come to the island for fun and fantasy, who’d come to be someone else. What couple would they have chosen to be? The kinky ones. The voyeurs. The ultra romantic.
He didn’t know. Because though he’d regaled her with his outrageous tales, she always had a good poker face. He knew she got turned on by his stories, but she never gave him a hint as to what specifically flipped her switches. They’d gone the romantic route on the beach because it had naturally evolved that way. And that had worked for them both, but he’d never get the chance to find out if she had other fantasies or desires.
No, instead she’d be here. And they wouldn’t be lovers. Maybe they wouldn’t even be friends.
That last part cut the deepest. He’d lived with wanting Gretchen for a long time, had gotten used to that dull, steady ache. But he couldn’t imagine not having her in his life. It’d killed him when she’d moved up north. Now she’d be even further away and almost impossible to get to.
He polished off his scotch.
“Hi there,” said a feminine voice, brimming with confidence.
He glanced up to find a curvy brunette smiling at him. He gave a quick chin lift of acknowledgement. “Hello.”
She could’ve been Miss Georgia’s sister. She had the same pageant smile—sugar pie sweetness underpinned with practiced seduction. “You look like you could use some company.”
He could use three more scotches, actually. But before he could say so, she sat without invitation.
“I’m Tori.” She put out her hand.
He took it briefly then grabbed his glass again. “Burke.”
“You here alone?” She motioned for the waiter and ordered a glass of wine. Burke ordered another scotch.
“Sort of.” He wasn’t interested in having small talk with anyone. But he didn’t have the energy to shoo her off. And hell, he would have to get used to this game again. The dance. He’d been faithful to Gretchen for a long time. Without realizing what he was doing, some part of him had been saving that for her even when she hadn’t asked for it. But now…what was the point? He was on an island where everyone was getting drunk and laid. Maybe he should, too. Maybe that would help him forget.
She laughed like he’d said something funny and pressed her hand to her cleavage. “Me, too. I came with two of my girlfriends. One got an invite with all of our expenses paid. I couldn’t pass up that chance, right?”
“Nope.”
“Of course, I didn’t realize this place would be so couple-y.” She waved her hand in the general direction of the other tables. “Not much of a single’s scene this week.”
The waiter brought their drinks, and Burke took a burning swallow of his. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spent much time outside of the beach and my cabana.”
She leaned forward, grinning, maybe a little tipsy already. “Wow, I love your accent. What is that?”
“Drunk Cajun.”
She laughed again and flipped her dark her over her shoulder. She was a pretty thing and knew it, flirting like a second calling. She was giving him all the go signs. If he dialed up the charm, he’d have her in one of those fantasy rooms before the sun came up.
He should go for it.
He should flirt back.
He couldn’t be less interested.
“You know, they say this island grants wishes,” he said out of nowhere. Maybe the alcohol was taking over and talking for him.
She tilted her head in interest. “I heard someone say that actually. Kind of hokey, huh?”
He sniffed. “What’d you wish for on this trip, Tori?”
A coy smile touched her lips. “To meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. How ‘bout you?”
He shotgunned his drink. “Right now, my wish is to forget the wish I had when I came here. Want to dance?”
She put out her hand, her pageant smile beaming. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 14
~ Gretchen ~
I sat on the bench like I had the night before, trepidation making my limbs tremble as I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around my legs. I knew how to open my mind and let everything in this time. The old ability I’d had as a child was still there. Now I remembered how to reach for it. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and pictured who I wanted.
I could sense the static swirl around me this time, flowing through my veins, channeling that familiar energy, trying to push past the fear that lingered. The breeze picked up around me and strands of my hair slapped my face. A familiar presence weighed heavy in the air, the scent of jasmine weaving through it. I knew without opening my eyes that I was no longer alone.
I lifted my head and looked to the knot of trees Harris had stepped from last night. And sure enough, there was a figure walking out of them. But this one was much shorter and even more familiar than the last. It was exactly who I’d asked for.
Tears jumped to my eyes, the sight of her bringing such a surge of happiness that I could barely hold it all in one body. My lips parted on a whisper. “Gran.”
“Oh, child,” she said in that familiar, vaguely annoyed voice. “It’s about time you learned to open that hard head of yours and listen again.”
I laughed and swiped at my eyes, as she made her way to me. She was younger than when I’d known her. Her hair was the color of coffee instead of shot through with gray, and her gait was smooth like she’d never broken a hip. But the look in her eyes and the pressed-lip smile was all Gran.
When she reached me, she took my hands in her smaller ones and put them over her heart. “Good to see you, my beautiful girl.”
I burst into an ugly, choked cry, and we hugged, her stroking my hair like she had when I was little and upset. Words weren’t needed in those first long moments. I’d always known I missed her, but feeling her again, hearing her voice, and smelling the jasmine oil she used to dab below her ear, all opened the gap wider and let me feel the tidal wave of loss. I’d left for New York and hadn’t visited home as much as I should’ve. She’d passed at a time when I hadn’t seen her in almost a year. I’d wasted a year I could’ve had with her. “I’m so sorry I didn’t visit you that last—”
“Don’t think of those things now,” she said gently. “You didn’t need to spend your life entertaining an old woman. You had dreams to chase.”
I wanted to ask her a thousand questions and keep her with me as long as I could, but both of us knew we were on a time limit. So after a few minutes, she guided me to the bench and sat with me.
“I know you didn’t ask me here to get my dress all wet with tears.” Gran smiled and patted my hand. “Go ahead, child. Tell me about that pain in your eyes.”
I started to go into the whole story, but she stopped me and informed me she’d been watching and knew what had happened with Harris. I had a moment of mortification when I wondered just how much my dear grandmother had seen, but I didn’t let myself linger on that.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do, Gran. I thought I did, but I feel so lost now.”
Gran frowned. “I’m not sure I believe that. That’s your head speaking, Gretchen. This is not a head decision. What is your heart telling you?”
>
I rubbed my lips together. “It’s up to me to give Harris a second chance. He loves me, and he didn’t mean to go. It’s not fair that his life was cut so short. How could I do anything but help him? What’s going to happen to him otherwise?”
She sighed. “What happens to everyone, child. When we let go and people let go of us, we move on.”
“But you’re still here.”
“I have a special pass. You will, too. Our family line has been blessed with that gift. The lines between worlds blur for us.”
“But where do we move on to?”
She gave a subtle headshake, letting me know that the topic was off limits. “Do you love him, Gretchen?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“And Burke?”
I looked away, tears filling my eyes again.
She reached out and cupped my cheek, dragging my attention back to her. “I can’t make this decision for you.”
I sniffled and swiped at my runny nose. “Don’t tell me that. You’re supposed to be here for advice, woman.”
She chuckled softly. “Is that right? The old woman always has the advice?”
I smiled despite my tears. “Well, duh. It’s in a grandma’s job description.”
She shook her head, sympathy there.
“Okay, then, here it is.” She grasped my hand between hers and looked at me with those bright eyes. “Do your remember that little white dog your mother wanted?”
I frowned. “Princess?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Your mother saw a neighbor with that type of dog and had to have her own. She searched the country for a puppy with exactly the right pedigree. She wanted it a certain size and color. She took forever to find the perfect fit.”
“And then we got Princess and she was afraid of kids, hated me, and bit me anytime I went near her.”
“But your mother kept her,” Gran said. “Even when a friend without children offered to take her in.”
“Because mom loved that dog.”
“No, she kept her because she coveted that dog.” Gran’s hands tightened around mine. “There is a difference between wanting a thing and loving it. Obsession is selfish. Love is willing to sacrifice.”
I let that sink in for a moment. “So you’re saying to show my love for Harris, I should be willing to sacrifice some of my freedom.”
She laid my hand back in my lap, an unreadable expression on her face. “I’m saying, trust yourself, child. The only times you’ve made wrong turns in life is when you’ve substituted someone’s else’s opinion for your own.”
That didn’t answer my question.
Gran leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I have to go, my girl.”
“Wait. No.” I grabbed her arm in a knee-jerk reaction. “We haven’t had enough time.”
She smiled. “Now that you’ve opened your mind again, we’ll be able to visit. Not like this, but like you did with your father.”
“So that was really him?”
“Of course. Your mother is a good woman, but a close-minded one. She didn’t want to believe you were seeing him because it hurt too much to think he wouldn’t come to see her.” She tapped my forehead with a gentle finger. “Not many have the sight. Cherish that gift, child. I’ll be seeing you.”
“Gran, don’t—” But before I could finish my protest, she’d faded into nothing right in front of me.
I called her name again, but she was already gone. She wouldn’t be coming back tonight. I knew that. But that sense of not being alone lingered in the air and shifted, changing directions and scents. Someone else was here now, waiting for me. Movement in the corner of my eye had me turning.
Harris, dressed in the same thing he’d been wearing last night, stepped out of the tree line. His smile was tentative, relieved. “Baby, you came back.”
My heart jumped into my throat, the rampant emotions from the day swirling into one jumbled mess, but I managed to squeak out, “Hey, you.”
He moved forward with quick strides, and I stood, bracing for him. He swept me into his arms as soon as he reached me, lifting me off the ground and spinning me. “I’m so happy to see you again, to feel you.”
I made some sort of sound against his shoulder, but he kept going.
“The hours have felt endless. I can’t stand not being able to be around you while you’re here.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my face buried against him, his cologne so familiar. So Harris.
“It’s okay,” he said into my hair. “I’m here now. I won’t ever have to leave you again. We’ll be together.”
A sob caught in my throat.
He looked down at me, taking my face in his hands, and started kissing me everywhere—eyebrows, nose, mouth—kissing my tears away and murmuring about how happy he was to hold me again.
But I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t move. The tide of mixed emotions felt like it was sweeping me under, drowning me.
“I love you,” he said in between kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“I slept with Burke.” It came out without warning or preamble.
He stilled at my flat-voiced confession and angled back to look at me. “What?”
My mouth had gone dry and numbness tingled in my fingers. I didn’t know why I was saying this, but I couldn’t help it. The truth demanded to be told. “Yesterday, before I met up with you, Burke and I slept together.”
Anger and hurt twisted his features. “You had sex with my brother?”
Hearing it out loud from him made it sound so horrible and ugly—like I’d broken some law of the universe. “I’m sorry.”
He took a few deep breaths, obviously trying to rein in the emotion, and gave a stilted nod. He tucked my hair behind my ears. “Okay. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you, baby. You were hurting. And you didn’t know I could be with you.”
I shook my head, not knowing what to say besides, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. Don’t keep saying that. You’re not the one who needs to apologize. It’s his fault.”
That snapped my attention upward. “But he—”
“No, don’t even try to defend him. Where the fuck does he get off touching you? Taking advantage of you when you’re grieving?” He scraped a hand through his hair.
“It wasn’t like that, it—”
“I should’ve known it would happen. He always wanted you. I saw how he watched you. It was like a game with him. He just wanted to win. You were like this prize.” He glanced down at me and rolled his shoulders, as if to shake off the anger. “I’m sorry, Gretchen. It’s just—never mind, it doesn’t matter anymore. I love you. We don’t have to worry about him. I’m here. I’m back for you. And you’re mine again.”
Mine.
The word sounded wrong and jagged in my head. Not romantic. Not sweet. But victorious.
He leaned in to kiss me again, but I pressed my palm to his chest, halting him. “Wait.”
He brushed a knuckle over my cheek, an adoring expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk first.”
His soft smile stiffened. “Baby, we don’t have a lot of time. We have the rest of our lives to talk after this.”
“No, the rest of my life, right?” I asked, my voice wavering. “You can’t die twice can you? Or age? I mean, how would this all work?”
He grimaced and straightened, giving me a sliver of breathing room. “I don’t know. It’s not like whatever this is comes with a manual.”
“Then how do you know this will work?”
His gaze shifted to the ground, consternation on his face—like he was having trouble finding the answer himself. “Because there are things I just know. Like I knew you’d need to call for me to appear. The knowledge is…already there in my head.”
“And you won’t be able to leave here?”
His brow creased and he reached for my hand. “No.”
“Harris…”
He met my gaze, my hand clutched in h
is. “I know it’s a lot to ask, to have you move here. But does it really matter where we are, if we’re together? Remember how nice it was when we moved to New York—when it was just the two of us? You can paint anywhere. And neither of us will have to be alone anymore.”
My ribs compressed, the pain of holding all of the emotion in, physically hurting. “I haven’t been alone.”
His lips pressed together, jaw flexing. “That’s because my brother wouldn’t let you be.”
My patience snapped at that. “Seriously? Are you really that pissed at him that you can’t see what he’s done this past year? What he’s gone through himself?”
He stared on, all stoic anger.
“Burke’s the only one I’ve been able to lean on. I couldn’t even get out of bed those first few weeks. I stopped living. He’s the one who got me through this year in one piece. And he’s been hurting, too, Harris. You may have this grudge match going with him, but he looked up to you. He loved you. Losing his big brother tore him apart.”
Harris flinched, some of the words making it past the mask.
“And he never crossed those lines with me until I gave him signs I wanted him to. He was—is my best friend.”
“He doesn’t want to be your friend, Gretchen,” he said quietly. “He did those things because he’s in love with you.”
“He was there for me,” I said, my voice thick.
Harris moved closer again, pain marking his features. “I’m sorry, baby. Don’t get upset. You’re right. If he gave you comfort, then I can’t hold that against him. How he feels about you shouldn’t be my concern. All that matters is that you’re here with me. Your heart led you to back to me.”
He bent his head to kiss me, and I let him this time. He gathered me against him and poured everything he had into the connection, whispering to me in between breaths. How much he loved me. How much he wanted me. And how he’d never let me go.
That was when what Gran had been trying to tell me finally sunk in.
