Can't Get Over You (Fortune's Island, Book 2)

by Shirley Jump

  “Because we are out on a date,” the bastard said. “And none of this concerns you. Not earlier, not now.”

  Zach ignored him. Because if he didn’t, he’d end up hitting him again. “Jillian—”

  “No matter what is going on tonight, that doesn’t give you a right to hit anyone. God.” She shook her head. “You know how I feel about that kind of thing. And after what happened to me that summer…”

  She shook her head, and her words trailed off. The guilt inside of Zach quadrupled. Why hadn’t he thought of that summer before he acted like a Neanderthal?

  “Jillian, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I just…reacted.” A thousand times over the years, he’d wanted to tell her the truth about that night on the beach when she’d been attacked. But at the time, he’d barely been an adult, a kid really, who still worshipped his older brother and didn’t want to be the one to send Keith to jail. In the end, Keith had sent himself to Cedar Junction, after beating up and robbing an old man outside a grocery store in Plymouth. And Zach had kept the secret that summer, a summer that scarred Jillian to this day, afraid that if he ever told Jillian, she would look at him exactly the way she was looking at him right now.

  “No, you didn’t think, Zach,” Jillian said.

  The bastard was sitting on the ground beside the lamppost, watching them, and tenderly touching his jaw from time to time. He started to get to his feet. “Jillian, we should just get out of here.”

  “Give me a second,” she said. The bastard’s gaze narrowed in Zach’s direction, but he kept quiet.

  “I’m sorry, Jillian,” Zach said again. “I really am. I was an idiot.”

  She ignored his apology and went on, taking a step toward him to emphasize her point. “You don’t have the right to follow me, or tell me who I can kiss or not kiss. And you especially don’t have the right to hit a guy just because he kissed me. I broke up with you, remember?”

  “Yeah, I noticed that.” Zach shook his head. “All I’ve done since then is my best to get back together with you.”

  “Your best, Zach?” she scoffed. “That’s the problem right there. That you think a few half-hearted attempts to talk to me was your best.” Then she turned back to the other guy. She leaned toward him, her back to Zach. Her tone softened, and she reached out a hand to touch the red spot on his jaw. “You okay?”

  He nodded, but there was anger flashing in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  The valet, a skinny young kid with glasses, jumped out of the car he was bringing up to the station, ran over to them, looking like he was about ready to have a heart attack. “Sir? Uh, sir, are you okay? Do you want me to call the cops or anything?”

  Zach scoffed. On Fortune’s Island, cops plural was a misnomer. Usually only one of the three members of the Fortune’s Island police force was on duty at any given time, and most often, to deal with someone too drunk to drive. Still, the last thing Zach needed was trouble with the law. He wasn’t Keith—and refused to follow in his elder brother’s footsteps. This had been a mistake, a big, huge mistake.

  “I got out of hand,” Zach said to the valet, and then to the bastard who’d been kissing Jillian. “I’m sorry, man.”

  The other man gave Zach a quick, dismissive look, then turned to the valet. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  Jillian slipped her hand into the other man’s, then shot Zach a glare. “You’re right. It’s about time we got out of here.”

  Zach didn’t know if she’d taken the other man’s hand on purpose, but it made the hurt in his gut quadruple, and the regrets multiply a hundredfold. Why couldn’t he get this right? Why did he keep screwing up the one relationship that mattered to him?

  He watched them get into the car, and pull away from the curb. She was gone.

  And it was all his fault.

  SIX

  The bad news came first. “It’ll be about two grand to fix her,” Harvey said. Harvey was the lone mechanic on Fortune’s Island, a big, burly guy with a good heart and a knack for knowing what was wrong with a car just by listening to it for a few seconds. He’d been Sylvia’s engine doctor for several years now, and Jillian trusted him implicitly.

  “Two thousand? Dollars?” Jillian’s chest tightened.

  She’d walked into the garage this morning in a good mood. Last night—until Zach showed up—had been wonderful. Ethan had dropped her off at home and kissed her one more time, a sweet, quick kiss. He hadn’t wanted to talk about what Zach had done, so she let the subject drop. Just before she fell asleep, Ethan had sent a goodnight text and another this morning, telling her good morning. That had been nice. Very, very nice.

  Zach sent her a long apology by text. He wanted to see her today to talk, but she was afraid if she did that, her resolve would weaken and before she knew it, she’d be letting him back into her life. All he’d done with that craziness last night was confuse the issue even further. If Zach was that jealous about her dating someone else, and that upset by the sight of someone else kissing her, then why hadn’t he fought harder to keep her when he’d had the chance?

  She sighed. She had no answer for any of the questions in her head.

  “I know, I know, but this car is old and needs some major TLC,” Harvey said, probably thinking the sigh was for the car.

  The car was a problem that needed more than just a sigh. Jillian had no idea how she was going to afford these repairs. Between tuition and rent, there wasn’t much money left in the end of her months.

  “I don’t have two grand. I don’t even have one grand. Come on, isn’t there a way to…” She waved at the jumble of engine parts before her, “I don’t know, tape it together until my tax refund comes in?”

  “Jillian, it’s September. Tax refunds are months away.” Harvey propped his hands on either side of the engine and peered into the dark morass. “I could maybe switch out the alternator to a used one, but those pistons—”

  “Just give me the used alternator. Please, Harvey? If it’ll get me back and forth for the next few weeks”—or months, she thought—“that’ll be good enough.”

  Harvey scratched his chin and gave her a doubt-it look. “You really should think about getting another car.”

  “I don’t have the money. Yet.” Story of her life. Almost all of her income went across the bay, and what little she had leftover at the end of the week was just enough for rent and groceries. She knew she could ask her parents for a loan, but the last thing Jillian wanted to do was run to them. She was supposed to be an adult and fully capable of living on her own and budgeting for the unexpected. She’d mastered one of those two. “Please? Help out a starving waitress?”

  Harvey sighed. “Okay, I’ll patch her together best I can, then say a prayer or two.” He gave Sylvia another dubious glance. “Or ten.”

  “Thank you, Harvey.” She put a hand on his back. “I appreciate it. You’re the best.”

  He just nodded, a little shy as always with praise and gratitude. “Hey, uh, how’s Zach’s Mustang running? That is a gorgeous car.”

  “Fine, I guess. I haven’t really seen him lately.”

  “I don’t get too many of those kinds of cars in here. Tell him to come by next time he needs an oil change.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Though she had no intention of talking to Zach about his car or oil changes, or anything else. Jillian thanked Harvey again, then headed down the street toward The Love Shack. Tomorrow, she had school, which meant she’d have to get up a little earlier than usual and take her bike to the ferry, then hop the bus to campus. She’d be cutting it close on getting back to work, but hopefully it would only be a day or two without her car.

  At least it wasn’t raining. And Zach wasn’t driving alongside her.

  Zach.

  What had gotten into him last night? She’d never seen him so angry. Never known him to so much as punch a wall when he was frustrated, never mind another person. After that summer—

  She tried not to think about it. After all, it was more than
seven years ago, an isolated incident, one she shouldn’t let bother her still, but it did. Even now, as she walked down the street toward home, her gaze strayed to the snippet of beach she could glimpse between the trees and scrub brush. In the daytime, the area was warm, beckoning, but at night, it still scared her. There were times when she’d go by that patch of beach, and it would all come flooding back.

  She’d been seventeen and still in that I’m indestructible bubble most teenagers lived inside, sitting on the beach late at night, waiting to meet Zach after he returned from a fishing trip with his father. She’d had her backpack on her back, her arms wrapped around her knees, her attention on the ocean before her, while she daydreamed about the charming boy she’d met a month earlier, and was already falling for.

  She hadn’t even heard the man approach her from behind. He’d demanded her money, but when she tried to explain she didn’t have much, he got angry. He’d hit her on the back of the head, and the next thing she knew, Zach was standing over her in a near panic, and her backpack was gone. She’d ended up needing five stitches for a cut on her jaw, and an ice pack for her head, but she’d been okay—physically. Emotionally, mentally, that night had left her afraid of the dark, afraid of violent people, just…afraid.

  The police never caught the guy who did it and, after hovering over her for a month, her parents finally let her go out alone again. Zach had been the best during all that, though. He’d been attentive and caring, listening to her recount the moment. He’d made sure she never walked home from work alone at night and had bought her a new backpack the very next day, with the logo of her favorite band on the front. That was what made his reaction yesterday so hard to understand, and impossible to equate with the guy she used to date. Sweet, goofy, unambitious Zach never got mad, never lost his temper.

  It didn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t dating Zach anymore, and what he did or didn’t do was no longer her concern.

  She wasn’t some lovesick seventeen-year-old anymore. She was smarter and stronger now. Moving on, moving forward. Like with Ethan, who had handled the whole thing with Zach like it was no big deal.

  She ducked into The Love Shack, stowed her purse in the back, then slipped on her black apron and tied it around her waist. Darcy rushed up the minute Jillian entered the dining room. “So…how was the date with Mr. Wonderful?”

  “Nice.” Jillian smiled. She thought of how he had wined and dined her, and left her with a simple kiss. “Very nice.”

  “Nice? Is that code for boring?” Darcy picked up one of the napkin holders and refilled it with a thick stack of paper napkins. “Because I personally think the guys that make you go Oh-My-God are the ones that are keepers.”

  “Guys like Kincaid?”

  Darcy’s face broke into a wide, goofy smile. She was so clearly head over heels for her fiancé, and that made Jillian happy that Darcy had finally found happiness with Kincaid Foster years after they’d met. Kincaid was turning out to be an awesome dad to their little girl, and as the wedding approached, Darcy’s happiness quotient increased daily. “Definitely guys like Kincaid. Speaking of which, I saw this fabulous dress in a shop on Main Street that would be perfect for the wedding.”

  Jillian laughed. “Nothing like last-minute shopping.”

  Darcy waved that off. “You know me. I didn’t want anything fancy for my wedding. Kincaid wouldn’t care if I wore a bathing suit down the aisle, as long as we walked back up it as Mr. and Mrs.”

  Jillian was happy for her friend’s upcoming wedding and new life, but a little envious about their happiness. It was the kind of fairy tale most girls dreamed of, the same fairy tale Jillian had thought she had with Zach—

  But no.

  “Anyway, I also saw a great maid of honor dress. Want to go check it out?” Darcy asked.

  Jillian thought of the tuition bill she’d just paid, the car repairs waiting to be paid. “How about after payday?”

  Darcy nodded. “Sounds good. We’ll make a day of it. Lunch and shopping. I still feel like I never see you except at work.”

  “Sorry,” Jillian said. She still hadn’t developed a ready-made batch of excuses for when people asked her where she was during the day. Either she needed to start telling her friends and family the truth about college, or come up with some time-consuming fictional hobby.

  Darcy drew Jillian into a one-armed hug. “One of these days, you’re going to have a Kincaid of your own,” she said. “Maybe this Ethan guy or maybe Zach will get a clue finally. Either way, you gotta have the sparks.”

  “Maybe.” Kincaid and Darcy’s relationship was not Jillian and Zach’s. When it counted, Kincaid had fought to keep Darcy in his life. Zach had just let her go. “I had those crazy sparks once before,” Jillian said. “And look where it got me.”

  “So you’re going for safe and dependable now? Like trading in the Porsche for a Toyota?”

  “I wouldn’t call Ethan a Toyota.” Jillian laughed. “But he is a nice guy. Handsome, polite, treated me amazing.”

  “And…” Darcy arched a brow. “Did anything else happen last night?”

  “Zach showed up.” Jillian let out a long breath, and fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers. “And he tried to beat Ethan up.”

  “What? Really?” Darcy shook her head. “Zach? As in, the Zach you dated forever who wouldn’t hurt a fly? The same guy who mows Mrs. Greenbow’s lawn every week for free? The same Zach who gives a ride to Mitch Connors every Wednesday morning so he can see his granddaughter on the other side of the island? That Zach?”

  Zach was a nice guy—there was no one who could doubt or argue against that. Jillian had always liked that about him, how he could be thoughtful and considerate one moment, funny and silly the next. From day one, he’d been the kind of guy who was easy to get along with, easy to like. Easy to love.

  Until last night. She’d never seen an angry side to Zach. Maybe she’d been wrong about him after all these years, or maybe she was just letting one jealous moment override eight years of history.

  “Do you think it was just that he got really jealous?” Darcy said. “I mean, the guy did love you. Probably still does. It had to be hard to see you out with someone else.”

  “Maybe. That’s what I was thinking, too.” Jillian shivered, and wrapped her arms around herself. “It just brought back all kinds of bad memories for me, which is crazy. It wasn’t even the same situation. At all.”

  Darcy drew Jillian into a quick hug. “Aw, sweetie, that’s totally normal. I’m just surprised that Zach, of all people, got angry like that. I think he’s really upset about losing you and doesn’t know what to do.”

  “Well, he could start with not being a stalker.” Jillian moved to the next table, and straightened the condiments in the repurposed six-pack box. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter to me what Zach does, not anymore.”

  “Because you have Ethan now.” Darcy grinned. “So, did anything else happen with Mr. New Guy?”

  Jillian blushed. “He kissed me.”

  “And…?”

  “That’s it.” She shrugged. “Just a kiss.”

  “Very gentlemanly of him.” Darcy grabbed the next napkin holder and added another stack. “How was the kiss?” She put up a finger. “And you’re not allowed to say nice.”

  “But it was nice. Sweet. Tender.”

  “No fireworks?”

  “There were some.” She smiled again. “Like I said, it was nice. And it was only one kiss. Not enough to make a final assessment.”

  “I take it a second date is on the horizon?”

  Jillian nodded. Ethan had asked her out again at the end of their first date. He’d texted a few times, called her once and talked to her for a half hour before she had to go to work. It was nice to be pursued like that, Jillian realized. Very nice. “I’m getting off early tonight. Carter is coming to the island for the weekend. He said he’d finish my shift, and then Ethan is taking me to the bonfire on the north side of the island.”

  “The
north side? Hobknobbing with the rich and famous now?”

  Jillian laughed. “Hardly. That’s your department.”

  “Kincaid still prefers this side of the island. Even his dad has journeyed down a few times.” Darcy smiled. Although her fiancé came from a well-known and monied family, Kincaid had always preferred the easier life the folks on The Love Shack end of the island lived. “When they’re here, his parents still stay in the family monstrosity on the northern part of the island, but they seem a lot more okay with visiting their new grandbaby at Abby’s house, or coming over to see Emma at my house next door.”

  “Is Emma still being a great aunt?” Darcy’s seven-year-old daughter had sported an “I’m the Auntie” pin for weeks after Abby’s daughter was born. Kincaid had gone around with a doubly goofy smile, between his pride for his daughter and for his sister.

  “She’s awesome. She’s fed the baby a few times, but keeps asking me when Caroline will be able to play Barbies.” Darcy gave the restaurant one last lookover, then nodded. “We’re all set.”

  “Great.” Jillian had that little nervous flutter of excitement in her belly. Just a few more hours, and she’d be out on her second date with Ethan.

  She wasn’t so sure how she felt about a bonfire on the north side of the island—very few of the people there were actual residents of Fortune’s Island. Most of them were rich landers, as she and Darcy called them—people from the mainland of the Eastern seaboard. When Fortune’s Island had enjoyed a brief period as the place to vacation, a number of landers had built or bought property up north, and the restaurants and shops had followed. It was as if Fortune’s Island was divided in half, by the uppercrust northern part with its Brighton belt stores and hundred-dollar wine restaurants, and the southern half, with the raucous late night parties at The Love Shack and stores like Betty’s Sundries, which carried everything from I <3 Fortune’s Island coffee mugs to handcrafted necklaces. This end of the island had always been where Jillian felt most at home, most comfortable. But maybe it was time to expand her horizons. After all, wasn’t that part of what dating Ethan was all about?