by Kate Stewart
Everything about my life in New York went fast.
My new focus was slow and meaningful.
Fighting with myself to look away; instead, I chose to drink in the scene below. Accusatory gray eyes met mine when I glanced back down at the couple and my face lit up in embarrassment. Ian ripped himself from her, his eyes still on mine. He was clearly drunk and staggered into his house with the woman in tow, slamming the door behind them.
I threw the untouched fish in the sink and grabbed a pair of silencing plugs from my nightstand. It was going to be a long night.
The next morning, Ian sat on the beach in nothing but swim trunks as I made my way out of the house for work. He barely glanced my way which was fine with me. I had nothing to say to him. At least I didn’t have to worry about false reports to his mother because he had finally joined the land of the living. Despite my best efforts to block Ian out, I was up half the night hot and cold, tossing and turning, with body aches.
I knew what was coming and had the pissy mood to match.
In a freshly purchased pair of flip-flops, with an iced coffee in hand, I walked toward my Jeep to start my day when he spoke.
“Have you talked to my mother?” He wiped the sand off his swim trunks as he stood. Ripping my eyes from his profile, lit by the early morning sun, I continued walking to my Jeep without a word.
“Oh, you are going to play hurt?” He barked at me. “I declined your dinner invitation. I was pretty clear.”
I bit the inside of both cheeks and kept my feet moving.
“Could you at least tell her not to come?”
“Tell her yourself,” I said, throwing my purse into the passenger seat.
“Favor for a favor, Koti. I lent you my shower. This is not a difficult request.”
Facing him, I crossed my arms. “Why are you so afraid of your mother?”
Hypocrite.
I barely answered my own mother’s calls. My failures looked horrible on her face and were no less daunting over the line. Her “in my day” speeches suffocated me and had my whole life. The less we spoke the closer we got to middle ground.
Ian took a step forward. “She’s a mother. She asks too many questions.”
“Seems like you had no issue talking last night.” A single brow rose while he studied my face.
“Dirty boy, aren’t you? Tell you what. Why don’t you take your spoiled ass inside that house and call your own damned mommy.”
Screw babysitting, I would make it work. If Ian left, spoke ill of me to his mother, if I lost the commission, I would beg Jasmine not to fire me while I rallied for another property.
Ian took an aggressive step forward. “Not that it’s any of your business but I haven’t had sex with anyone but my ex-wife in fifteen years so I guarantee you if I sleep with anyone, it’s a well-deserved fuck.”
“Well, I hope you wrapped it up tight because we don’t need you multiplying your kind of crazy around here.”
His face turned to stone and his jaw ticked. “What in the hell did you just say?”
Ah, the angry South African Texan had returned. I’d done a fine job of ruining my twenty-four-hour truce. My father always told me before I entered any argument to go in with three justifiable points, or the battle wasn’t worth it.
Where Ian was concerned, I was good to go. “News flash buddy, number one, I’ve made more allowances than I should for your rude behavior. You have not once thanked me for the trouble I’ve gone through on your behalf to keep you in that house. Number two, which by the way, was fully booked when you decided to show up with your shitshow circus and has made my work days harder. Number three, not only that, I’ve lost more nights of sleep since you’ve been here than I have in a year! I said call your own mother, burn her house down, starve to death. I’m done watching over you. You aren’t worth the trouble!”
“What’s your problem, Koti. Are you jealous? Do you fancy me?” He asked, his tone unmistakably mocking as he took a step forward and then another until I was pinned to my Jeep. “I noticed you watching us.”
Feeling the blush creep up on my face, I chose to ignore the fact that he busted me.
“Jealous?” I scoffed as ice gray eyes slanted down and stunned me. “Do I fancy you? You think an invitation to dinner is a request for sex? Man, you have been out of the game for some time, old sport. You were an arrogant ass as a kid, but you’ve got one hell of an ego on you now, don’t you, crocky? What in the hell would I possibly have to be jealous of? Drunk sex with a hyena? I bet you can’t even remember her name.”
He glared at me openly.
“What did you call her when she left this morning, barstool number five with big breasts?”
Ian’s eyes instantly went to my chest before he glanced up and raised a brow.
“Oh, you’re disgusting.”
“Fine. I’m disgusting. AG Man!”
“What is that, more South African sailor?”
This time he jerked his chin back. “What?” He rolled his eyes in understanding. “It means—go away. And mind your own damned business.”
My eyes were trained on his lips as I pushed at his chest. “Stay on your side of the fence, asshole!”
“Fine by me.” He turned toward the beach and my feet began to move on their own accord as the last of my patience flew away.
“What is wrong with you? You can be civil enough to some lady at a bar to get her into bed, but you can’t show me any common decency? We were friends once.”
He barely glanced over his shoulder. “I hardly knew you.”
“Still, what in the hell is your problem with me? Because it has to be specifically with me, right? I mean you can smile for your daughter!”
His turn was sharp as he leveled me with one single look. The man was pure venom and anger and he was dragging me down with him. I could feel the panic in me start to rise and blew out a breath.
“Forget it! Just keep the noise level down on your side of the fence. Screw half of the island for all I care. But I live here. Remember that. I’m not leaving, so deal with it.”
His broad muscular back to me, he muttered his reply. “Not like I have a choice.”
My brain didn’t bother to tell my hand to stop when I drew wet sand from the beach and formed it into a ball, my limbs didn’t bother to slow at all as I tossed it full force at the back of his head.
PMDD. Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder and sleep deprivation. When the two get together, sand bombs happen.
Ian stood with his back to me several seconds before he turned to look my way, his face covered in disbelief. I had a ready middle finger stretched out in front of me, the only sign I knew before I stomped back to my Jeep. He was still glaring at me from where he stood in the sand as I sped off.
THE NEXT FEW WEEKS WERE much of the same. The Kemp house was quiet. Too quiet. I never saw flashing TV lights in the living room or heard any more of his ranting. He would disappear for a few days on the weekends, which I assumed was when he went to see his daughter. Despite my resolution to give him his space, I knew he wasn’t improving. But I was gone during most of the day, never really having any idea what he did when I wasn’t home.
“You’re thinking about him,” Jasmine said as I took a bite of my salad. We were on the sun-covered porch of the Oak Hotel. They had the best salads and an even better view of the bay.
“I just keep wondering what happened.”
“Cheating.”
“No, he wanted the divorce. That doesn’t make sense.” I forked some chicken and looked out at the water. “God, I love days like this.” It was hot, but not to the point of being miserable. The breeze blew off the surface of the sparkling water yards away. Jasmine eyed the man who sat alone next to us and he smirked our way over his paper.
“God, you’re terrible,” I noted, glancing his way. His eyes met mine and I gave him a weak smile.
“I’m thirty-nine and single,” she said a little too loudly as I sank in my seat. “I want to live a lit
tle.”
“Oh, you’ve been living,” I said just as loudly and the guy belted out a loud bark.
She glared at me. “Just because you decided the house was your new convent doesn’t mean the rest of us are hanging it up.”
“I’ve been thinking about that a little lately and maybe it’s time to give dating a chance.” The man Jasmine had been eyeing was suddenly at our table. I looked up to him as he plucked his wallet from his back pocket. “Pardon my eavesdropping, but I’m actually glad to hear it.” He set down a card in front of my plate and I winced at the sun-filled sky behind him trying to get a better look. He was beautiful, with thick coppery brown hair and a strong jawline. I couldn’t make out his eye color. Casually dressed in slacks and a polo, he looked down at me with curious eyes.
“Patrick.” He held out his hand and I took it, stunned. “Koti.” Patrick looked to Jasmine with a smirk, which she countered with one of her own. “I’m Jasmine.”
“Nice to meet you both. Koti, I would love to take you to dinner some time.”
“Okay, Patrick Roberts,” I said eyeing his card. “But it will be expensive.” He bit his lip and winked. “And she brings me a doggie bag,” Jasmine chimed in.
He leaned down slightly, so I caught the amusement in his eyes—which were blue—and a hint of some intoxicating cologne. “I look forward to it.”
We both watched him disappear, fully confident in his walk. The man had an ass and swagger to boot.
“That was bold. I bet he’s packing in the penis department.”
I choked on my water as she looked at me and shrugged. “And I’m just going to say right now, I totally thought he was staring at me. I may need my eyes checked.”
“He’s the one that’s blind,” I said, eyeing my best friend in her signature red dress. I’d been surrounded by beautiful people my whole life, but none of them shined quite as bright as the woman who held out her hand to me and picked me up when I was at my lowest.
“Stop doing that,” she said, popping a piece of bread in her mouth.
“Doing what?”
“She was beautiful, I’m sure, but it’s okay that you are beautiful too. Stop downplaying your looks to appease your mother. She’s not here.”
Mouth gaping, I jerked back in my seat. “Whoa, are we on the couch, Dr. Gersch?”
“Koti, I don’t think you realize how much you do it, but you are gorgeous. Case in point, that hot ass man wants to take you on a date and do the dirty.”
Our waitress grinned as she set the check down between us. “Sorry, I walked into that, but if I can be of any help to you, he had a black Amex. You really should call him.” The waitress made her leave as I stared at Patrick’s card.
“See,” Jasmine said with the nod of her chin. “Rich too.”
“I’ve dated rich and entitled. I’d rather date a man who has to work hard to buy me expensive wine.”
Jasmine tilted her head. “Why?”
“Because that would mean he would have to work for me, obviously.”
“Oh, as opposed to giving it away.” She threw her napkin on her plate.
“Don’t. This isn’t about the way you do things, it’s about what I want for myself.”
She darted her eyes around the table, a rare sign of the guilt she inflicted on herself for her random hookups.
“One day I will get over him.”
“You will,” I assured. “It’s okay to enjoy yourself.”
Jasmine chewed the inside of her cheek. “What if I can’t love another man?”
“Then we’ll love each other.”
She looked at me with gleaming eyes and asked in a shaky voice, “Promise?”
“Promise. You’re my person, Jasmine Ann Gersch. You don’t ever leave your person.”
She smiled, but it was weak. Even though it had been a little over a year since her fiancé had abandoned her in St. Thomas, her issues remained. It wasn’t rocket science. We both knew why she wouldn’t commit or even attempt to. She had been badly burned.
“You can talk about Steven, with me, if you want. You know that.”
“I think I’m over that phase, but I appreciate it. My sisters won’t even let me say his name. He’s the reason I’m here and away from them and their children. My sisters are having babies and marrying their princes and I’m not even a part of their lives.”
“Then go see them.”
“I will. I want to, but I was too busy trying to get the business off the ground. I felt like I had something to prove to a man who doesn’t give a shit about me.” She took a sip of her water to cool the emotion budding on the tip of her tongue. “I just don’t understand how I can feel so much after all this time and know he doesn’t feel anything at all.”
“You don’t know that. And he’s an idiot.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“You had sex on a backhoe.”
She chuckled as she pursed her lips. “What is wrong with me?”
“You got your heart broken and won’t give it to anyone else,” I stated. “You need more time.”
She wiped underneath her eyes and whispered across the table. “How much more?”
“Until you and your heart are ready.”
“What about you, Koti?”
“I’m holding out for the first time in my life. I’m not in a hurry. I just need my body to cooperate.”
My abdomen chose that moment to start screaming. Jasmine saw me wince.
“It’s starting.”
“Okay,” she said shooing me away. “Go home. Text me later.”
When I didn’t move, she looked over at me. “I’ve got this, Koti.”
I lowered my eyes. “Everyone’s checked in, we shouldn’t have too many calls.”
“So, you check out.” She gripped my hand across the table. “It’s okay.”
Frustrated, I tried to ignore the deep throb in my center. “I can make it through the rest of the day,” I said, starting to inhale and exhale deeply. “This is ridiculous.”
Jasmine squeezed my hand. “Go home.”
On my deck wrapped up in a blanket and freezing, even with the day’s heat, I popped a pill from my prescription bottle, my jaw shaking from the onslaught of cramps. It felt like two tiny men had cut their way into my abdomen and were playing the bongos. I lay in my hammock in a ball as I listened to the waves in an attempt to ignore my treacherous body. My insides screamed and I braced myself for the worst. I’d been diagnosed with endometriosis a few years before I left New York. Clustered with severe mood swings and my anxiety, for several days of each month, I was a ticking time bomb. I did what I could to kick the mood swings with workouts that had me crawling toward a hot shower and relaxation techniques my therapist had taught me. Nothing helped but drugs and time. Though I’d been managing the clusterfuck for years, it still felt like a small Armageddon every single month. I was lucky enough to have a best friend as a boss who allowed me to slip away for a few days until the worst of it subsided. A shock wave of pain coursed through me and I tensed when another set of cramps hit hard.
Some time later, with my eyes tightly shut I sensed I wasn’t alone.
“Koti?”
I wiped the tears from my face and pressed my chin to my chest to hide them.
“Go away.”
Ian stood to the side of my hammock. I could feel the day’s heat coming off him. Lifting my eyes, I noticed his skin had slightly bronzed from the sun. For the first time, I was able to study the solid wall of tattoos that covered his right pec—Semper Fidelis ran in a bold cursive pattern in the middle of two crossed swords on his bicep. He’d been a Marine. He’d also lost some of the weight around his middle in the last few weeks. If I wasn’t so engrossed in my pain, I might have noticed how long his eyelashes were and how they were so dark they looked wet and spread out in a beautiful pattern over his cheek when he looked down at me. If I wasn’t in complete agony, I might have noticed the fullness of his lips and the small white scar in a subtle
divot on his chin where stubble refused to grow.
“You’ve been crying for hours.”
“I’m fine. Sorry about the noise.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and bit my lip to keep from moaning. He scanned the porch and pulled the prescription bottle from the table and eyed it. I was too wrapped up to give a damn. Inside my body was unleashing hell.
“What happened? You’re hurt?”
“Ian, what do you want?”
Meeting his gaze, I saw eyes filled with concern. It was completely ironic.
“I’m fine.” Even as I said it, my voice shook and fresh tears leaked out of my eyes.
He looked at me pointedly for a believable explanation, but I wouldn’t bring myself to tell him I had the most painful periods in the history of womankind. And every month I cursed Eve for her treacherous act because of that tempting apple.
Ian opened the bottle and handed me another prescribed pill along with the bottled water I’d left on my table. I took the pill and swallowed it, overwhelmed by a fresh wave of cramping. I bared my teeth and grunted as it hit hard.
“Jesus, Koti, what’s wrong?” It was odd seeing his concern for me. We’d remained complete strangers in his first few weeks on the island, yet I had felt the need to protect him from his own hurt. Maybe he was beginning to remember that for a few weeks, and endless summers ago, we were childhood friends.
“It will pass. I just want to sleep.”
“Okay.” He stood watching me shake for several moments before he reluctantly made his way off the porch.
Hours later I awoke in a sweaty heap. The sun had set and the only light was the moon’s half glow. When I tried to shift in the hammock, I realized there was an arm wrapped around me. It tightened as I moved to get up.
Ian’s smooth voice rumbled behind me. “Feeling better?”
I wanted to ask him what in the hell he was doing. I wanted to fight him and throw his comforting efforts away as he had mine, but in truth, it felt amazing being in his arms. Suddenly, I was aware of his breath on my neck and the gentle stroke of his fingers on my stomach. The breeze covered us both as I laid mute, too exhausted to argue instead embracing his rare gift of comfort.
