He felt his anger surge again and made a dismissive gesture. “Forget her. She’s obviously never lived with you.”
“Thank you, honey.” Heather laughed. “But neither have you.”
“Well, as for that, I’m glad she came,” Bo said.
Heather raised her head. “What?”
“Hell, baby, I don’t want you to go back to Charlotte. You know that. It just took something like this to convince you that Charlotte isn’t where you belong anymore.”
She laid her head back against his chest. “But now I have to figure out what to do next,” she said quietly. “Where to go.”
Bo was silent. Then he turned onto his side, resting on his elbow so he could look down at her face. “Do you remember the night we first made love?” His voice was tender.
Heather’s cheeks bloomed and she averted her gaze. “Of course,” she mumbled.
“I’ll never forget it,” he said. “I told you then I’d always be there for you.”
“I remember,” she said, and reached up to draw his head down to her lips. Their kiss was soft, searching.
“Do you like it here?” he asked her when they finally broke apart.
“In bed with you?” she asked with a light laugh. “Yes. . . .”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m serious. I mean here. On Dewees Island.”
“I’ve only just arrived. It’s very remote. Isolated—which I like.”
“So you like it?” he prompted.
She delivered a suspicious gaze. “I’m shy with strangers and love animals. For someone like me, it’s a paradise. Why do you keep asking?”
He couldn’t contain his grin. He stroked the hair from her face, wanting to catch her reaction. “Well . . . do you think you could live here?”
Her eyes sharpened and her fine brows drew together in thought. “I . . . I don’t know. I might. Everything feels right here. The natural environment. The birds, of course. The philosophy.” She worried her bottom lip, then said, “It feels like I belong here, in a sense. As if I’ve come home.”
Her answer was more than he’d hoped for. He kissed her softly on the lips. “I hoped you’d feel that way,” he said. He took a breath and said with a resigned smile, “Because I just got offered a job here.”
Heather’s lips parted as she sucked in a surprised breath. “A job?”
Bo shifted to sit cross-legged on the mattress. “Yeah. The Dewees Island board offered me a full-time job. As head of island maintenance,” he explained, no longer able to hold back his excitement. “It’s a really solid job. I beat out a lot of other great contractors. And I’d get a house! Well, they don’t give it to me, of course, but it’s mine to live in while I’m the manager. I’d take care of the island’s property. But I’d be free to continue to do my private work when time allowed.”
“That’s—that’s amazing,” Heather stuttered, her face looking stunned. She brought herself up to a sitting position and wrapped the sheet across her breasts. Pushing back her hair from her face, she asked, “Are you sure you want to live here?”
Bo nodded with conviction. “I love it here. I always have. I just never thought I’d be able to afford to live here. It’s everything I love most about a place. Beautiful surroundings and people who are committed to caring for them.”
“Then you should take the job.”
He grinned, appreciating her support. He expected no less from her. “I intend to.”
She smiled then, and in her eyes he saw her pride in him. He felt a tightness in his stomach as he took her hands. “Move in with me.”
Her smile slipped. “Move in with you? Here?”
“Yes, here,” he said with a teasing smile. When she hesitated, he pushed on. “You aren’t going to return to Charlotte. Your lease is up soon. You don’t know where to go. It’s an answer to your problem, isn’t it? Move in with me.”
She looked down and shook her head slightly. “I don’t want to move in with you just because I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“That’s not the only reason I asked,” he said. “You know that, I hope. I want you to move in with me because I love you. We might fight over how we squeeze the toothpaste tube, but we get along pretty well. It makes sense.”
She didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know. It all feels too easy.”
“Who says it has to be hard?”
She didn’t respond.
“Do you love me?”
She nodded. “Yes, you know I do.”
“I love you. That’s all we need to know. The rest”—he shrugged—“we’ll take day by day.”
She still didn’t say anything. He felt sucker-punched all of a sudden. “Heather, what’s the matter?”
She seemed to be weighing her words carefully. “It’s just . . . there’s a lot to consider.”
“Like what?”
“Well . . . it’s all happening so fast. I thought I was going home.”
“But you’re not.”
She looked out the window, her face clouded with indecision. “I want to talk to my father,” she said in a soft voice.
“Your father?”
“I don’t know if he’d understand my moving in with you.”
“Heather, you’re twenty-six years old. I don’t think he’d be shocked.”
“I don’t want to upset him.”
Bo was feeling frustrated now, blocked at every turn. “I didn’t ask your father to move in with me,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “I asked you.”
Heather made a tsk-ing noise of frustration and shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t. Explain it to me.” His voice was sharper than he’d intended.
“I’m not sure I understand myself !” she cried. “I’m overwhelmed. Stop pushing me, okay?”
Bo took a deep breath. He was scaring her, and she was retreating into her shell like a frightened turtle. Heather had a hard time with change. He had to remember her reaction to his first date offer. Her inner voices were probably screaming at her right now.
“I’m sorry, Heather,” he said, making an effort to soften his tone. “Just . . . just tell me what’s going on, and we’ll figure it out together.”
She took several deep breaths, calming herself down. “I’m sorry, too. I-I don’t feel myself right now.” She reached out for his hand and he took hers. “I’m not saying no,” she ventured to explain. At last she looked up, and he saw the tears in her eyes. “If I say I might not be ready for us to move in together, you won’t take it as another rejection? You won’t get angry? Because I’m not saying no. I’m saying I don’t know.”
He swallowed his disappointment. “I understand that.”
“I just need time to think about it.”
He breathed out a long sigh. “That’s fair.” He played a moment with her fingers. “But promise me something.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me that whatever decision you make, you’ll do it for you.” He looked up to catch her gaze. “I know you, Heather Wyatt. You always try to make everyone else happy. Your father. Cara. Me,” he admitted. “Without giving thought to what you really want.”
She bit her lip and nodded.
He had to admit he was disappointed. He’d expected her to jump up and down with excitement at the prospect of living here with him. It had seemed a dream come true for both of them, and he’d thought she would be overjoyed at the timing, take it as a sign that it was the right thing for them to do. But when did Heather ever do the expected?
She looked forlorn sitting across from him draped in the white sheet. He stretched his long arms across the bed to clasp her waist and slide her into his lap. She slid her arms around his shoulders and nestled her head into his neck.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Whatever you decide, I still love you, Heather Wyatt.”
THE FOLLOWING MORNING they rose early to catch the first ferry. They were both quiet, even subdued. The previous nig
ht they’d feasted on shrimp that Bo had caught off the dock, then returned to the great teak bed and made love again. Heather lay in Bo’s arms and they’d talked for hours about so many different topics. But they each were careful not to bring up again the one subject at the forefront of their minds. They’d fallen asleep as the sun lowered and risen with it at dawn.
The island’s winged inhabitants were awake. The dawn chorus was raucous as unseen birds sang to one another as the sun broke the darkness. Already humidity moistened the air, hinting at the scorcher the day would become. They rode in silence on the trip to the ferry, bumping along the rutted road. Heather held the cart’s frame to steady herself as she looked out at the waterway speckled with white ibis, willets, and other wading birds searching for their morning meal. As they rounded a bend in the road, Heather’s eyes widened and her heart rose in her throat.
“Bo, stop!” she shouted, and almost leaped from the golf cart.
He veered to the side embankment and parked. Heather stepped gingerly through the tall grass.
The small lake mirrored the dawn, awash in its rosy hues. A faint fog hovered above the stillness, shrouding the scene with an otherworldly aura. Among the grasses were wading birds. One group was taller than the rest, walking on long red legs in a regal procession. Pastel pink and crimson, their feathers were the color of the dawn. Heather brought her fingers to her mouth to silence her gasps of delight.
“Roseate spoonbills!”
Bo came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. “I thought they were flamingos.”
“A lot of people think that. But look at that spoonbill and you’ll never make that mistake again. They’re usually found in Florida.” She sighed and said with awe, “And yet . . . here they are.”
Bo tapped her shoulder. “We have to go if we’re going to catch the ferry.”
“I don’t want to leave,” Heather groaned.
“Hey, that can be arranged.”
Glancing up at him, she saw the hope on his face. She turned to take one last look at the almost magical sight of pink birds standing against a background of summer green. As she watched, one roseate spoonbill stretched out its wings and seemingly stepped across the water and took flight. Heather put her hand to her heart as the long wings angled, giving the bird the appearance of a pink arrow piercing the gray-blue sky.
Chapter Twenty-Four
HEATHER RETURNED TO the beach house from Dewees with a renewed sense of urgency to complete her final painting. As predicted, the morning had heated up and was now downright steamy. Yet she felt rested after her mini break, freed from the shackles of Natalie’s imposed doubts. Although she had a new worry to contend with now—Bo’s request that they move in together, and what she planned to do about it.
The beach house was blissfully cool upon entering, and from the sunroom she heard her canaries singing. Pulling the key from the lock, she swiftly closed the door behind her, eager to see them. Last night was her first away since she’d arrived in May—it felt like ages ago. It filled her with pleasure that, crossing the threshold of Primrose Cottage, she felt as though she’d truly come home.
“You’re back!” Cara called, stepping out from the kitchen, smiling with obvious pleasure. Cara was dressed in uniform. Her ISLAND TURTLE TEAM shirt, this one aqua, still had bits of sand and moisture. “I didn’t expect you for hours.”
“We both had to work. And that sure wasn’t going to happen with us together,” she explained, blushing. “He’s just finished the tree house, and cleanup must be done before he begins his next project.”
“A tree house?”
“Not just any tree house.” Heather launched into an exuberant description of Bo’s masterpiece, sharing photos from her phone, feeling pride at Cara’s impressed expression.
“He sure is talented, our Bo,” Cara remarked, returning to the kitchen. “And so are you. You two make a great couple. Hey, listen, I’m parched. Just finished moving what we think is our last nest of the season. I made a batch of sweet tea. Want some?”
“Love some.”
“I made some raisin pecan toast, too. It’s organic whole wheat,” she added, and Heather smiled, knowing that extra bit of information was for her benefit.
They poured sweet tea into tall glasses filled with ice and carried them along with a plate of toast to the table.
“I know you were gone just a short while but somehow you look better than when you left,” Cara observed.
Heather laughed and picked up a piece of toast. It was still warm with melted butter dripping down its sides. “I feel better,” she acknowledged. “I needed to get away. It’s amazing how a little distance can give so much perspective. Sometimes a day can feel so much longer.”
“Sometimes a day can feel like forever.”
Heather skipped a beat. “Agreed.” She bit into her toast.
“I’m worried about Moutarde,” Cara said. “When I went to feed them this morning, I found feathers everywhere. In fact, all the birds seem to be losing their feathers. Is it something I did?”
“Lord, no. It’s normal. They’re molting.”
Cara’s eyes widened. “Molting?”
“That’s when they replace all of their feathers. Some two thousand of them. It’s normal. All birds molt. Imagine wearing the same suit of clothes all year—it would get pretty worn. The canaries have been molting for a few weeks and will continue till fall. You just haven’t noticed because I’m such a good roommate and tidy up after my pets. Don’t look alarmed,” Heather soothed with a light laugh. “I’ll write you a list of instructions before I leave. I have some books on caring for birds I can give you, too.”
Cara screwed up her face. “You’re still planning on leaving, then?”
“September first is around the corner. I don’t know where I’m going yet, but I’ve got to go somewhere. Time for me to shed my feathers and move on, too.”
“Please tell me you aren’t going to Charlotte.”
Heather looked at her glass, considering her answer. “I’m not going back home, that’s certain. But I haven’t ruled anything out.” She looked up and suddenly was very glad to have Cara as her friend. She needed someone to talk to now. A girlfriend to whom she could spill all the details and her private thoughts.
She leaned closer to Cara. “I’ve got to tell you—Bo just got offered the most wonderful job on Dewees. He’ll be the new maintenance manager.”
Cara leaned back in her chair, her mouth open. “That’s news!”
“And it comes with a caretaker’s cottage on the island.”
“Really! Amazing. I’m so happy for him.” She paused. “But how do you feel about that?”
“There’s the ferry, of course. And he has his own boat.”
“Oh, true, true.”
“And, well . . . he asked me to move in with him.”
Cara’s expression shifted from joy to wide-eyed concern. “Move in with him?”
Heather nodded. “It’s an option.”
Cara shook her head decisively. “It’s too easy.”
Heather frowned, remembering that she’d said the exact same thing when Bo had presented the idea, but somehow coming out of Cara’s mouth it sounded wrong. She took a long swallow of her tea. “It could work.”
“Someday, maybe. Not now.”
Heather found Cara’s conviction mildly irritating. “Why not now?”
“You haven’t known him that long, for starters.”
“We’ve been inseparable since June, Cara. That’s a long time.”
“Is it? For someone, shall we say, unaccustomed to dating . . . maybe it does seem like a long time. But beyond that, you’ve only just moved out of your father’s house. This was your first foray into living on your own. Why rush into another living situation where you’re being taken care of ? Isn’t that what Natalie said that made you so upset?”
“I haven’t been taken care of. I’ve been living on my own all summer,” Heather countered.
&n
bsp; “Your father is paying your rent. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but let’s call it what it is.”
Heather quietly fumed.
Cara pressed on. “You’ve come so far this summer. Don’t you want to be independent? You don’t need to be in another position where you’re being forced into making a decision, much less a commitment.” Cara paused, then said, “My father was a cruel man. He didn’t like strong women and he scorned their opinions. When I was young, I thought my mother was weak. But she was determined to keep the beach house and did, despite the fierce pressure my father, and later Palmer, exerted to take it away. Because of the household I grew up in, I was equally determined never to lose control over my destiny. I never depended on a man to provide for me. I swore no man would ever lord over me. Heather, this is your time to see what’s really out there. You’re going to regret it if you don’t.”
Heather shook her head lightly. “Cara, you forget. I love him. I’m not being forced into a decision. He made an offer and I’m thinking it over. It doesn’t have to be forever. Maybe just for right now.”
“If you do really love him, you should take your time and not rush it. The relationship needs time to grow. I’m sorry, but what you think love is sounds an awful lot like a summer romance. Real love takes time. And y’all just aren’t there yet.” Her eyes glittered with intent. “Here’s what you need to do. . . .”
Heather sat back in her seat, silent. She felt like she was being presented with one of Cara’s marketing pitches.
“Move in with me for real! Here’s why. One, you like it here. Two, the rent will be affordable.” She winked. “Three, you have a great roommate who cares about you. Four, I really want you to stay. I need you, too. We do pretty well together, don’t we? You have your workroom all set up, and the birds love it here. You’re settled. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Heather felt the power of her persuasion. Cara made it all sound so simple. So logical. Yet something didn’t sit right in her gut. Her instincts tingled.
“And you can continue to see Bo as much as you wish,” Cara concluded. “After all, he has the boat, right?” She smiled and lifted her glass as though in a toast.
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