by S. E. Law
“Wait,” I say, knees still weak. “Do I know you?”
He walks up to me, shaking his head with a grin.
“Nope, you woke up once or twice last night though. That could be what you’re thinking of.”
“Woke up?” I ask, befuddled. He nods.
“Yeah, I found you on the beach last night and brought you here, so you could rest.”
“Found me? What do you mean? Sorry, I must be losing it. I must have passed out when I got to shore because I was so tired.” I put a trembling hand up to my head and shake it, as if somehow that can restore my memories. He merely grins again, charismatic and handsome. He really is familiar, but I just can’t place it. He shrugs again.
“I don’t doubt it. You’re about five miles from the main island. Not a whole lot of people can make that swim, so you did well,” he says, sounding impressed.
I sit heavily back down on the coffee table.
“Whoa, careful,” he says quickly, grabbing my arm. “Are you alright?”
“Five miles?” I ask breathlessly. “I didn’t think I could even swim one mile!” Then looking up into his handsome face, I ask again, “Where am I, by the way?”
“St. Brigid.”
I wrack my brain, trying to remember the name.
“I’ve never heard of it.” He smirks a bit.
“That’s because it’s privately owned. Not all islands are open to the public.”
I nod, looking around.
“Do you work here then?” I ask him. “Did you swim here as well?”
His smile flashes, perfectly straight white teeth gleaming in his tanned face. He is even more devastatingly handsome when he smiles.
“No, I didn’t swim. There’s a dinghy that comes once a month from the main island, so I use that as my mode of transportation. But yeah, I work here of sorts. I handle everything around the island.”
“Oh, so you’re the caretaker,” I say, nodding. “Totally get it.”
He nods cheerfully.
“Yep, I definitely take care of stuff. You could say that again.”
His positive demeanor is contagious, and I hold out my hand for a shake. When he takes it, I can feel the strength of his grip and the callouses on his fingers. It’s definitely the hand of someone who works for a living.
“I’m Brynn and I guess I’m a cast away,” I say in a wry tone.
He laughs and I have to smile back.
“Don’t worry, it’s not so bad to be a castaway at St. Brigid. The island is gorgeous and the guy who owns it is hardly ever here, so he’s not going to bother us. Come on, I made you breakfast.”
He strolls off to the kitchen again, but I pause.
“Um, I’m sorry to be a nag,” I say, behind him. “But can I borrow some clothes? I only have a bikini on.”
The blanket I’m holding to my chest is slipping off my shoulders and he turns, a lightbulb going off.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that. Hang on, I think I have something in here.”
He veers off into a side room and, poking my head in, I see him rummaging through a dresser.
“Do you live in this room?”
“I kind of live all over,” he says, his voice muffled. Then Tom emerges with a large t-shirt and shorts. Handing them to me he says, “I don’t have any underwear or anything, and these are clearly way too big for you, but … sorry, do you think it’s okay?”
It should have been a simple sentence but the shaded gleam in those blue eyes makes chills run up my arms. Is he fantasizing about me wearing no panties? No, that would be crazy.
“Oh sure,” I stammer. “It’s no problem. Ha ha, beggars can’t be choosers!” I shake my head at the lameness of my statement, but he just gives a quick nod before turning away.
“Breakfast is ready when you’re ready,” he calls over his shoulder before strolling back to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I mutter, closing the door to change. My face is burning and I scold myself. I was just saved from drowning by this man! He’s a stranger too, so I shouldn’t feel turned on. But Tom is gorgeous, and I’ve already seen his muscular chest. Is the rest of him just as good?
“Knock it off,” I reprimand myself. “You just met him. He could be an axe murderer for all you know.”
I wince as I reach behind me to untie my swimsuit. My arms are almost as sore as my legs but I manage to shuck the bikini off. Then, I open the t-shirt and pull it over my head. It’s large and soft and the front has a picture of Snoopy sleeping on his dog house. Smiling, I pull the shorts on and walk out of the bedroom.
Tom is at the stove again, humming as he flips an omelet. My mouth starts watering as I realize just how hungry I am.
“That smells amazing, oh my god,” I say, sliding into a seat at the small kitchen table.
He turns and a grin sneaks out as his eyes travel down the length of my body.
“You look better,” he says playfully.
I blush, realizing how intimate it is to wear his clothes. I bite my lip, worrying it while trying to look normal.
“I feel better, thanks. I’m just hungry now.”
Tom grabs a plate from the cabinet and serves up my omelet. He also brings over two cups of coffee and I groan, inhaling the sweet smell. The eggs are fluffy and yellow, and at first, I take a small bite. But then I dig in when I realize how delicious it is.
“This is so good,” I mumble around a huge mouthful. “Thank you.”
Tom laughs and takes bite of his own omelet.
“I enjoy cooking. I don’t usually have anyone to cook for, so thank you.” I grin.
“You make it sound like I’m the one doing you a favor.”
He laughs out loud and the sound makes my stomach flutter.
“You kind of are,” he says lightly. “It gets lonely around here. As far as I know, I’m the only one living at St. Brigid.” I nod and want to say something, but I’m just too hungry. I shovel mouthfuls of fluffy egg down my gullet in a very unladylike manner, but Tom doesn’t seem to mind. His blue eyes merely look amused as I polish off the entire thing within minutes. Then I pat my lips gently. He’s still eating, like he has all the time in the world.
“So it’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done, but I need to get back to my cruise ship. Not to mention my friend Simona. She probably has the entire boat looking for me,” I say. “How do I get to the main island again?”
Tom sighs and put his fork down on his plate.
“So, here’s the problem. We get supplies shipped into St. Brigid on a regular basis, but the boat only comes once a month, and it just left last night. So …”
My stomach drops into feet.
“Wait, so the next time they’ll be back is…”
“In a month,” he finishes for me.
I can feel the color drain from my face.
“Are you alright?” Tom asks, seeing my expression. “Are there medications you need or something like that? We can call them if it’s an emergency.”
I shake my head.
“No, I’m healthy but I mean, do you have a phone? I need to reach out to my friends and family because they’re going to think I’m dead!”
“Sorry, no phone.”
I go pale. This seems hard to believe.
“Really? No phone?”
Something flickers in his blue eyes but then it disappears.
“Calm down,” Tom says, taking my hand. “It’s going to be fine. Don’t stress yourself out. I’m here all the time, and I’m surviving just fine. You’re going to be okay too.”
I take a deep breath.
“Yes, but how do you not have a phone?” I ask, trying to stay calm. “It seems archaic!”
Tom shrugs, getting up from the table with our plates.
“Life is different here. The only time I would need one is in an emergency, and I just use a radio for that.”
Ah ha! “Great! This situation is definitely an emergency.”
He leans
back against the counter, one brow arched.
“Really? Do you feel like it’s an emergency?”
I bite my lip and his eyes drop to it, flaring hot for a second.
“Honestly?” I ask.
Tom nods, and I sigh.
“No. I mean, I should be terrified but I’m okay now. You could be a homicidal maniac but you made me an omelet, and somehow that makes me trust you.” His smile distracts me for a second. “But I do eventually need to go home. I was only supposed to be on vacation for two weeks, and I don’t want everyone I know to worry.”
“That’s totally fair. Just remind me later and you can use the radio so they don’t call out the search parties. It’s okay.” Pushing himself away from the counter, he adds, “I’ll show you the island, if you’re feeling recovered enough. It’s a wonderful place, and I think you’ll like it.”
I think for a moment. Am I really ready? After all, I’m a castaway, stuck in this place with a strange man. But somehow, I’m not worried. It’s as if the island’s beauty has cast a spell, leaving my form relaxed and happy.
“Sounds great,” I grin.
Feeling refreshed, I follow his deliciously naked back out of the house. It opens directly onto a pool and a larger house on a hill behind it. Clearly, we’re currently in the caretaker’s home, while the master of the island lives in the humongous mansion. But then I see a large infinity pool, shimmering with blue lights.
“Holy moly,” I gasp, staring at the rippling water. “Who owns this place?” Tom looks very vague.
“Some actor, I think. Do you watch movies?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I’m a wildlife photographer, so I’m always traveling. I mean, I could watch movies on the long plane flights, but usually I just conk out.”
My companion laughs and shakes his head while leading me down a spiral wooden staircase to the beach.
“It sounds like you’re perfect for St. Brigid then,” he says lightly. “No movies, no streaming, and no downloads. That’s what island life is about.”
I giggle and we start our slow walk along the shoreline. As he points out different sights, the tight ball of anxiety in my chest begins to loosen. It’s easy to chat with Tom, and I genuinely enjoy his company.
“I’m not a big movie person, if you haven’t guessed,” I say conversationally. He smirks.
“Don’t worry, I don’t even own a TV.”
I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.
“You don’t have one here, but you’ve had one in the past right?”
He shrugs.
“Yeah, but that was back when I was a kid. I don’t really watch TV.”
I nod. “You’re perfect for this life then.”
He grins.
“Yeah, I like it out here. I’ve been coming out for years, and St. Brigid has become my private getaway. It’s nice,” he says simply.
I look over at him and now that he’s standing in the sunshine, I notice that he has glints of silver at his temples.
“How long have you been here?” I ask again, curious now.
He grins, reading my mind. “Longer than you think. And by the way, forty-five,” he says, startling me.
“What?”
He smiles. “Before you ask. I’m forty-five.”
I blush and stammer, “Oh I wasn’t…” He shrugs.
“Don’t worry about it. You don’t know me so it’s a natural question and I could see you staring at my grays. They’re that obvious, huh?”
I blush embarrassed.
“No no! You’re very youthful looking,” I say quickly. He merely grins again, flashing even white teeth.
“I don’t look old and decrepit?”
“God no, you look amazing,” I say, without thinking. Then my mouth shuts with a snap and I blush again, even harder. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m usually cool to the point of standoffishness around men but Tom is making my brain stop working. I need to get a hold of myself. But Tom merely looks amused, his blue eyes glinting.
“I’m glad you think so. I work hard to keep it that way,” he says. I rush with my words.
“Oh yeah, that makes sense. Lots of yard work and the like right? St. Brigid doesn’t look overgrown.” Then my mouth snaps shut again because I’m being an idiot. Should islands look overgrown? Or is that the way they naturally are? God, I’m being so stupid in front of this man!
But Tom merely chuckles, like he’s used to women fawning over him.
“The island is as she is,” he says mysteriously. “Come on, this way.”
We continue our walk along the beach and it isn’t long before I feel totally comfortable around him once more. He’s so natural and relaxed when he speaks, but there’s a tension in his shoulders, and a couple times when he looks over, I see his eyes fall to my lips or breasts. Does he think I’m attractive? Evidently so because as we stand staring out to sea, Tom asks the question.
“So, is there a boyfriend who’s going to be calling out a search party for you?” he says in a casual tone.
I shake my head and smile.
“No, no boyfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” he asks, grinning.
“You wish,” I respond, making him laugh. “No girlfriend.” But Tom looks genuinely puzzled.
“So you’re single? But how is someone like you single?”
Now I’m the one who’s confused. “Someone like me?”
He nods.
“Yeah, you know, beautiful, smart and sexy. Am I going too far? Girls like you usually have some dumb guy tagging along after them.”
I look down at my feet, the waves rolling over them as we walk. My heart thumps because people hardly ever compliment me, and it’s a nice change. I take a deep breath.
“Can I be honest with you?”
Tom looks over at me, his gaze curious.
“Of course.”
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this but I was in a pretty serious relationship two years ago. We were together through most of college.”
He nods but stays silent, letting me continue.
“I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t brave enough to do anything about it. So I cheated on him. He found out about it eventually, as they always do, and the break up was really disastrous. So since then, I’ve kind of kept away from relationships.”
I don’t want to look at him and see judgment. But it never comes.
“So, you’ve been punishing yourself for two years?” Tom asks in a careful voice.
“No,” I explain. “It’s not punishment. I’ve been with men. But I don’t want to hurt someone again by being in a relationship because I fucked up so bad last time.”
“Sounds like punishment to me, Brynn,” he says. I heave a big breath, but he cuts me off. “Look I get it, but everyone makes mistakes. Don’t let one time dictate the rest of your life.”
I cock my head.
“Well, it was a terrible time. After everything exploded, I decided to travel to New Zealand for a while, to get away, and that’s when I got started in photography. My career took off, so I suppose I have the break up to thank for that,” is my rueful answer.
The handsome caretaker takes my hand and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“There’s a silver lining to everything,” he intones. His palm is warm and strong, and it feels right, actually. I’m not usually a hand holder but for some reason, with Tom, I’m turning into everything I thought I wasn’t. I’m never the girl who falls in love at first sight, or even lust. That’s only in the movies, my realistic self says. But talking with Tom, I find myself trusting, desiring and just plain liking a complete stranger. It’s strange. It must be St. Brigid casting its magical spell again.
We stroll along in silence for a bit, my brain still whirling.
“What about you?” I ask, after a minute. “Tit for tat. Any major relationships in your past or present?”
He takes a deep breath.
“None, right now.”
�
��But before?”
He grimaces a bit before nodding. “Yeah. Unfortunately, I was the dumb guy that trailed after beautiful girls, even when the situation was hopeless. It didn’t work out.”
My heart swoops as I watch his face. Did he get his heart broken by some flighty blonde chick who threw it under a bus? His expression is completely closed off and I know there’s more to the story, but something tells me this is not the time to ask.
“I’m sorry,” I say instead.
He shrugs.
“I don’t blame her. Life with me is a lot to ask of anyone.”
My brow squinches.
“But what happened?” I say, unable to contain my curiosity. Tom merely walks silently beside me for a moment and I don’t think he’s going to answer. But then he heaves a sigh and says, “We were engaged for about a year. It was the night before the wedding and I wanted to surprise her, so I stopped by her apartment. I caught her walking out with suitcases. She said she’s leaving, hands me back my ring, and drives away. I felt like I was hit by a truck.”
“You didn’t go after her?” I ask, totally confused. Who would leave this handsome man? Does he have some dark secret that caused his fiancée to take off?
He shakes his head.
“No, after thinking about it for a while I knew she was right. We hadn’t been in a good place for a long time and the wedding would have been a mistake. It would have made everything a billion times more complicated. I guess I should thank her for that.”
“But why weren’t you in a good place?” I ask. My questions are probing but it feels right to ask. I’m not offending him, and the air between us is relaxed and comfortable, even given the serious topic.
“Like I said, life with me isn’t easy sometimes. Amanda didn’t want to deal with it.”
