“I’m driving.” He heads out, giving me time to lock up the door behind me.
“You’re a little tall for the bug, but whatever floats your boat.”
“Not driving that, we’ll take mine.”
I don’t argue with him, the car is hot and I actually can’t wait to sit next to him and watch him drive it. When you think about a vehicle and what fits the driver, he nailed it. Strong, sleek, and knows what it wants—it’s Dakota all day long and then some.
The drive to the market is short and quiet. I’m pretty sure I memorized every muscle in his body as he drove, and licked my lips so many times that I’m now searching for my Chap Stick. Being the complete gentlemen he thinks he is, he rounds the front of the car and opens the door for me, and my eyes stay trained on his body. His hand instantly goes to the small of my back, sending that chill coursing through my body once again. Each time is different, I don’t know if it’s because I’ve accepted him or not, but the current gets stronger and stronger with every touch, look, and thought. My body feels like it’s about to explode from all the electricity—another first.
“I’ll get the cart, you go pick out some vegetables for the salad.”
“I don’t remember asking for a salad. Do I need to remind you what the bet was?”
“No, but I want one and since I’m cooking, that’s what I will get. Now scoot.” I wave him off toward the produce section.
With a quick jerk, the cart rolls back, bumping into my knee and a slew of curse words come flying out. Before I can stop myself, I hear the clearing of someone’s throat behind me. “You okay, Izzie?”
Another yank of the cart and I point it in the direction I need to be. Then I turn my head and I’m caught off guard by the look of Peter’s face. I try to stifle the laugh, but I can’t. “Don’t you look lovely?”
“Not really. Did you know you’re sleeping with a madman?”
That’s it. I can’t take the accusations from this man anymore. My body stiffens and I inch closer to invade his space. I raise my finger and poke him in the chest a few times, pushing him backward. “First, it’s none of your business who I am sleeping with, dating, or just down right screwing. Second, you need to stay the hell away from me, Peter. I don’t even want you to nod in my direction, do you understand me? Third, just so you know, you were a lousy lay, and that man can do things to my body without even touching me. All he has to do is look at me and I melt. Remember that the next time you want to invade my space. You make my skin crawl.” I don’t give him time to respond; I leave him standing by the entrance with his mouth open and everyone that had entered looking speechless. Yes, unfortunately, I lost my cool in front of a few locals, which means word will travel fast.
“So, I can do things to you without even touching you, huh?”
“Shut up, Dakota. Let’s get what we need and get home before I slap you.”
“Me? What did I do?”
I don’t even bother to answer, because I really don’t know why I want to slap him, but I do. I need to hit something, but that wouldn’t be the respectable thing to do right now. Doing the next best thing, I throw every item we need into the cart. It wasn’t until I picked up the steak that Dakota intercepted, grabbing them from me and placing them gently in the cart as if they were precious pieces of china.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JUST AS THE CAR TURNS down the gravel drive, I notice someone parked in Dakota’s driveway in a rental car. He’s leaning against the side tapping away at his phone like a mad person.
“Who’s that?”
“David, my brother, who has shown up uninvited.”
“Oh … Why, do you not get along or something?”
“Something is right. I’ll deal with him and then be right back to help get the bags inside.”
“Okay, well, don’t worry about it. I’ll take them in and you can come back later. David can join us, we have plenty.”
“No, he’ll be leaving soon.” He jumps out of the car, leaving me in the front seat trying to figure out what just happened. The only time I’ve seen him this tense is around Peter, and I realize I don’t like anxious Dakota.
It takes me a few minutes to exit the front seat, since I’m being nosey and watching their display. His brother keeps peeking around his shoulder to get a good look at me, and Dakota blocks him each time. The red flags are going up with this behavior, and I have to question why. Why can’t I meet his brother? This pisses me off. Here is a man who has embedded himself in my life from the first greeting, and I can’t even meet the brother.
“Oh, hell no. This is ridiculous.” I slam the door and march over toward them. He might not want to introduce me, but I do. If he thinks I’m cooking dinner for him, then he might as well be nice and let me say hello.
Shoving Dakota to the side, my hand extends toward his brother. “Hi, I’m Izzie. It’s great to meet you.”
“So this is the famous Izzie that’s held my brothers heart all these years.” He shakes my hand.
“I don’t think I hold his heart, and definitely not for years.” I laugh it off. He must have me mistaken for someone else.
“No, you’re the only one that would cause my brother to sell his part of the company, loft, and pack up to move.”
“Okay, I’m very confused. I think I’m going to let you two catch up, since you have it all wrong,” I say and turn toward Dakota. “I’ll grab the grocery bags and see you two in a little bit for dinner.”
Dakota goes to say something, but David interrupts him. “See you in a few, doll face.”
Doll face … Who still calls someone that? I question all the way inside, and not only that but his whole statement. I busy myself putting away the cold items and setting everything out to start preparing dinner. A glance out the side window shows them on his deck, and they are definitely arguing about something.
With my cellphone out, I decide that I’m calling Kelsey. On the third ring she answers.
“How’s it going?”
“I don’t know … You got a minute?”
“Always for you, what’s up?”
“Just listen before you say anything, okay?”
“Fine.”
“We went kite flying, I lost a bet and have to cook. I decided that I was going to give this a go, but now I don’t know.”
“Can I scream with excitement now?”
“No … this is important.” I spy on them again and shake my head because they are still going off. Dakota’s now pointing and shaking his finger toward his brother.
“You might need to explain the ‘I don’t know’ part a little better.”
“We just got back from the store, and I guess his brother showed up out of the blue. He didn’t want me to meet him and rushed off. Well, me being me, I introduced myself and he said something about me being the one that’s held Dakota’s heart all these years and the reason he sold his place and stuff to move here. I don’t get it, we just met. And now they’re outside screaming at each other.”
“That is strange. Maybe he thinks you’re someone else?”
“Maybe that’s it, I don’t know, but I can tell you one thing: Dakota is pissed, and an angry Dakota is even hotter.”
“I can only imagine. Now, tell me about this ‘giving it a try’ thing.”
“How did I know it would go back to that?”
“You know me, and I’m your best friend so you can’t deprive me. It’s in the rulebook.”
“It was today on the beach, or maybe last night when I thought he was hurt. I don’t know, it’s different with him. So I decided I would get back on the horse and give it a try. It’s not like it will be forever.” I let out a big breath of air that I was holding.
“Izzie?”
‘Yes.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
“Against everything, yes I do. I think I was more tired from fighting it, than giving it a try.”
“I get that. He’s nice and we all like him, I’m happ
y you finally gave in. Thought it would take you at least another week or two.”
“Ha … Funny person.”
“Breakfast tomorrow?”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Later,” she says before she’s gone, and I place the phone down on the counter. With one more glance, I watch Dakota pace back and forth as he runs his fingers through his hair and listens to something David is saying.
It feels as if hours have passed since we got back home from the market and still no sign of Dakota or David coming over. Dinner is almost ready, and I’ve poured myself a glass of wine to head out and rest for a bit in the sunroom. Just as I slide the door open, they’re walking up the back deck through the screen door.
“Evening. Just in time for dinner; should be ready soon.”
“Sorry it took so long,” Dakota says as he kisses the side of my head. I close my eyes and release the air that it feels like I’ve held since I departed from him.
“It’s okay, you’re here now. Come on in. Would you like something to drink, David?”
“Have any beer?”
“I do. What about you, you want something?”
“Same, please. You need any help?”
“No, have a seat and I’ll be right back.” I head back in and do a quick check on dinner and grab two beers from the fridge.
When I step out, the tension in the room is so thick that a knife couldn’t even cut it. After handing David his drink, I take my spot near Dakota, tuck my feet up underneath my bottom, curl up to his side, and take a sip from my glass. My eyes are strained over the rim as I watch his brother. Something doesn’t feel right, and what should’ve been a date night has turned into a pissing match. They are both still brooding over it, and it makes me thankful that I was an only child.
“How long you here for?”
“Just a few days. The parents sent me here to check on their baby boy since he left in such a hurry.”
“Dakota, you should be ashamed of yourself and call your family,” I say. It makes me sad that he has been ignoring his family, who’s obviously worried about him. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could pick up the phone and check in with my father, or mother, for that matter.
Dakota’s hand touches my knee. “I will tomorrow, as soon as David leaves.” His words are short and clipped, which causes me to shift a little away from him and place my glass down on the table.
“I’m going to go check on dinner. You two well?” I ask as I dart my eyes between them.
“Fine,” they say in unison.
When I enter the house, I don’t close the door all the way, leaving it cracked just enough to eavesdrop from the kitchen. I know it’s childish and below me, but I can’t help it. Something feels off and they aren’t going to tell me. I busy myself getting plates down and pulling the steak out to place on the grill soon. Just as I go around the kitchen island, I stop dead in my tracks.
“When you going to tell her?”
“I will when the time is right, but it’ll come from me and not you.”
“She’s going to be pissed that you’ve been lying to her this whole time. Pretty shitty if you ask me, brother.”
“Change the subject now, or you can be on the first plane out of here.”
“Think I might stay a few extra days. It’s been years since I’ve been here and I need some quality time with my baby brother. Remember when we used to run around throwing sand at each other and Mom would yell and scream at us to stop?”
Dakota laughs. “It would make her so mad.”
“And that time I buried you and all we could see was your eyes. You started to freak out when you couldn’t breathe.”
“Still pissed about that, just so you know.”
The platter I was holding gets set aside and I step out and look between the two of them. My eyes bore into Dakota as I ask what seems to be the most important question that I’ve ever asked him. “When were you here? What is he talking about?”
“Shit.” Dakota throws his head back and looks up at the ceiling. Taking a chance, I look at David for answers, which only brings his beer up to his lips for a sip.
“You have three seconds to explain yourself, and then when you are done, you will leave.”
“Izzie, come sit down.” He pats the cushion next to him.
“I’d rather stand.” I cross my arms over my chest and face him as I wait for the explanation.
“Really, you might want to sit for this.”
Pissed that I’m listening to him, I take residence in the wicker chair between them. “Fine, I’m seated. Now spill it.”
“Now hear me out before you get all pissed off.”
“Not promising anything. I think you’ve figured that out already.”
“Fine, just let me explain then.”
“Oh, I’ll let you explain.” I notice David has shifted in his chair as if he has front row tickets to the fight of the year.
“We met a long time ago. We used to rent the house next door in the summers. The last time we saw each other you were nine, which was the last time our family rented the house.”
“What do you mean? I would remember you if that was the case.”
Dakota takes a deep breath to gain his bearings before he speaks again. It feels as if it’s been a year since he’s spoken, and the words that he speaks next might be the ones that break my heart forever.
With a gulp, he says, “Our father was the one that ran your mother off the road. He’s the reason we never came back. Your father made sure we never rented the house again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WITH EYES AS WIDE as saucers, I just stare at Dakota. What he’s saying isn’t registering, it’s as if the circuit to my memories is gone. I was nine years old when my mother was killed. My father never explained the whole accident to me in detail. I knew bits and pieces, but he even shredded the newspapers when they’d arrive on the front porch. It was something he never talked about. He decided we would only speak of the good, never the tragedy that struck our home.
A closer look at Dakota’s features, and the memory of that day comes back to me.
The sun was about to set, and I was down by the shore with the two boys I played with every year. We knew it was getting late, and our parents would call, but it didn’t stop us. The sand castle, which I declared a princess’s tower, was getting washed away by the tide, our kites were flapping around under the towel we had laid down to stop them from blowing away. Mine was a butterfly, and the boys both had plane-shaped kites. One of them called out that the water was taking our buckets and we all raced to retrieve them from the ocean. They were my special sand castle tools: an old bucket, one of my mother’s spoons from the kitchen, and three cups from the cupboards. I knew if I lost them she’d be upset, but would help me replenish my stash. I placed the items next to my towel, and that’s when my father started screaming for me to come up to the house. It was like every night, and at nine years old, I wasn’t scared of what was going to happen next. My parents would require me to shower off all the salt and sand that covered my body, and we would sit down for our nightly dinner and talks. It was just another day to me, another memory I could take away from that summer. That was until I’d approached my father and a look of pure horror was written all over it. My mother was a local painter, and would venture out by the lighthouse to paint at sunset. She’d been working on a particular project for the neighbors to take back home when they left at the end of summer break. Not surprised that I didn’t see her setting the table, I set my stuff down on the back deck and looked up again. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. “Daddy, why do you look sad? I didn’t lose any of my stuff.”
“No, you didn’t, Isabel.” He sat down on the old wooden planks that made up our patio. “Come sit, I need to tell you something.”
“Okay, but can Dakota and David come to dinner tonight? Mom said we were having lasagna and they love lasagna.”
“Not t
onight, angel.”
“Tomorrow then?”
“No, I don’t think they will be here tomorrow. They have to leave.”
“Why?”
“There’s been an accident, Isabel, and they have to go home.”
“Who got hurt? Did their Mommy or Daddy get hurt?”
“No, angel. Something happened to your mommy, she was in an accident and isn’t coming home.”
“Why? We can get in the car and go get her.”
“I’m sorry, we can’t go get her; she’s with the angels now. But you can always talk to her, she’ll always be here in this house and by the shore.”
As the fading memory flashes before my eyes, I realize that Dakota has been giving me hints since the first day he showed up on this island. I don’t know if I chose to ignore it, or pushed it so far back that I couldn’t remember. Tears start to fall down like the faucets have been turned to full blast. My eyes dart back to him, and I finally speak. “You need to leave. Not in a minute. I mean now. And don’t you ever come back to this house again. Take him with you.”
“Izzie, let me explain, please.” He reaches for my hand, and I snatch it away from him. I can’t think of him touching me, now or ever.
“I don’t need an explanation from you. What I need is for you to disappear like you did that night. Do you understand that I didn’t remember that night until now, when I’ve just about healed from the last year? Do you? Are you happy with yourselves?” My voice has raised and I can’t take it anymore. I stand briskly and head to the door, stopping one last time to look at the person I thought would hang the moon for me. The one I wanted to love, the one who, when I think back now, has always held my heart.
The door slides shut and with a twist of the lock, I’ve locked out the one I wanted to grow old with. My chest hurts like someone just stabbed a knife through it. Somehow making my way to the sofa, I plop down and stare up at the painting that’s centered over the fireplace. It’s the last of my mother’s completed work. The only piece that my father kept. The simple background of the ocean, with waves crashing toward the shore, the dunes and grass blowing in the wind. The background isn’t the typical bright blue or sunset orange—it’s stormy, as if a storm is about to break loose.
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