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

by Shirley Jump

  Jillian tried on three different bathing suits before finally settling on one that she hoped would take Ethan’s breath away. She threw on a lacy white beach coverup, filled a bag with sunscreen and a towel, then put the finishing touches on a potato salad she’d made that morning. It was Saturday, and she had to work tonight, but for the next few hours, she was going to have fun.

  Ethan arrived on her doorstep exactly at twelve. He had on a blue cotton short-sleeve button down over a pair of khaki shorts, with boat shoes that looked like they’d never seen the deck of a boat. His clothes were pressed, his hair neat, and he had on just the right amount of cologne. It was almost as if she had ordered him out of a catalog.

  “You look incredible,” he said when she opened the door, then he stepped forward and kissed her.

  It was a short kiss, a brief peck, and then he was taking the potato salad from her hands and leading her down the stairs to his car. As they drove down to the beach, he talked about his days in New York, and the new band he’d signed while he was out there. “I was really hoping not to have to go back and forth this week, but there was another company interested in that band, so I had to make sure I signed them first. But for the rest of this weekend, I’m all yours.” He reached over and took her hand in his.

  His hand was smaller than Zach’s, and she had to shift her touch to fit their fingers together. Ethan’s rental zipped along the roads, shiny and fast, like what Jillian’s car could be—if she filled the tank with a mixture of nitroglycerin and steroids. They rounded the corner, and Ethan tapped the brakes when two cars appeared on the side of the road. “Looks like somebody had a fender bender,” he said.

  “We should stop. See if they need any help.”

  He flicked another glance at the accident, then shook his head. “We’re already late, and I’m sure somebody called the cops right away.”

  Jillian scoffed. “On Fortune’s Island, it’s usually cop singular. We have three people on the force, because nothing bad ever happens.” Then she caught herself and added quietly, “Almost nothing.”

  Ethan kept on going, past the accident. “Looks like the car behind me is stopping. See? We can still get to the party on time.”

  Jillian turned in her seat. “It’s…Zach.”

  “Your old boyfriend?”

  “Yes. He’s stopping.” She watched Zach pull the Mustang in behind the two cars, then get out and lean into the driver’s side window of the first car, probably asking the male driver if he was okay. Then the road turned, and Zach disappeared from her sight. She turned back to the front.

  Ethan had barely slowed at the accident. Maybe it was his LA personality, or maybe he really was that insensitive, but she had never known a single resident of Fortune’s Island to keep going past a neighbor in need. And Zach, as was his nature, had been the first one to stop. Zach might have made a lot of mistakes in their relationship, but when it came to being a good human being, he had that down pat. She’d always liked that about him.

  “Maybe we should turn back and see if Zach needs any help,” she said.

  Ethan glanced at his watch. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he looked annoyed. “We’re already late. Are you sure?”

  “This is a small town, Ethan,” she said again. Maybe he just didn’t understand small town mentality. Or maybe he really was that insensitive. “And that’s what we do here.”

  “Okay. I guess I get that.” Ethan pulled onto the shoulder and did a U-turn. A minute later, they parked across the street from the accident and got out.

  Zach had his arm around Clint Dempsey, the elderly owner of a little art gallery on Main Street. The two of them were sitting on a big rock off to the side of the road. He was talking to the frail older man, in quiet, reassuring tones.

  Jillian’s heart softened. Zach was taking such care with Clint, who was still shaking. It was as if the roles had reversed, with younger Zach being the caretaker. “It’ll be fine, Clint,” Zach was saying. “You didn’t hurt anybody and you didn’t get hurt, either. Cars can be fixed.”

  “Thank you, son.” Clint patted Zach’s knee. “You came along at just the right time.”

  It was such a Zach moment. He was helping out a neighbor, not because he had to or because someone told him to, but because that was who he was. He’d been like that all his life—the one to carry a lunch tray for a girl with a broken arm, or to help his elderly neighbor carry in her mail. People on Fortune’s Island loved him for that, and rightly so. She could see Clint’s face calm, the shaking stop, as Zach’s presence worked its magic.

  In the distance, Jillian heard the sound of a police siren. “Seems they have it under control,” Ethan said. He touched her elbow. “Should we get going?”

  “Just…give me a minute.” She dashed across the street. “Hey, you guys okay?”

  Zach nodded, and Clint gave her a weak smile. “All good here,” Zach said. “I think Katelin is more pissed off than anything that she dinged up her new Kia.”

  “I’ll go check on her.” Jillian skirted behind Clint’s car and over to the little red sportscar ahead of it. A dent the size of a watermelon curved into the right half of the Kia’s bumper. Katelin was sitting in the front seat with the door open, yelling into her phone. “I don’t know what happened, Mom. I was slowing down for something and this guy just rear-ended me…. No, I wasn’t texting…I don’t know why it happened.”

  “You okay?” Jillian asked the teenager.

  “Mom, hold on.” Katelin put her hand over the phone. “Yeah. But my car’s totaled.”

  Jillian bit back a laugh. “It’s just a dent. It can be fixed,” she said, repeating Zach’s words. “No big deal. The most important thing is whether you are okay.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” Katelin went back to her phone call, launching into an argument about what was going to happen to her insurance rates now.

  Ethan was standing a few feet behind the accident, on his cell phone, either texting or sending an email, she wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t helping. She should cut him some slack—after all, Ethan didn’t live here, didn’t know any of the people involved.

  Zach was still with Clint, who was looking a little less pale now, and starting to get to his feet. The cop car came around the corner and parked behind Clint’s car. Officer Nichols got out, took one look at the two dinged vehicles, and headed straight for Katelin, who started yelling she was not texting and driving. This time.

  Zach came up beside Jillian. “Just another day on Fortune’s Island, huh?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded toward Clint, who was now giving his statement to the policeman. “That was nice what you did for him.”

  “All I did was talk to him.” Zach shrugged. “It’s what anyone would do.”

  “No, not anyone.” Ethan was still on his phone. He looked up at her and sent her a quick smile, then went back to the Samsung.

  The whole moment made her see Zach with new eyes. In spite of all the reservations she’d had about her former fiancé, all the reasons she had for not getting back together with him, seeing him on the side of the road, calming down Clint, sent her mind down memory lane. And reminded her that, at his core, Zach Gifford was a good guy. Those didn’t come along every day.

  “Remember that time we helped Mildred Harkins?” she said.

  They’d been teenagers, fresh in the middle of a summer love, and walking in Jillian’s neighborhood. Zach had seen the old lady who lived next door to Jillian struggling with a load of bags, and ran up to take them from her hands. Jillian watched him, the gentle way he offered to help, how he waved off Mrs. Harkins’ protests, and realized she was falling in love with Zach Gifford right then and there. He’d been so sweet and considerate, so unlike the immature boys she’d known before.

  Zach chuckled. “Definitely. One minute, we’re offering to help her carry in her groceries, the next we’re spreading mulch and digging up that bear of an azalea shrub.”

  “She did give us cookies, though.�
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  “That was definitely a bonus. And they were good cookies.”

  They’d sat in the shade in Mildred’s back yard and shared the tin of desserts, along with icy glasses of milk. They’d been hot and sweaty and tired, but the cookies were good, and she remembered how much Zach had made her laugh. She could have eaten those cookies all day just to see him smile and laugh like that. “She gave me the recipe. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “No. Nor did you ever make them for me.” He tapped his lip, as if feigning deep thought. “Why’s that, JillyBean?”

  The nickname settled over her this time, familiar and warm. The memories had warmed the water between them, and she found herself lingering. “Well, I’ve been kind of mad at you for a while.”

  Zach arched a brow. “Kind of?”

  “Well…very.”

  “And are you too mad to make them now?” Zach grinned and waved toward the accident scene. The road debris had been cleaned up, and the cars were running again, which meant it looked like everyone was going to be okay. “I mean, all this good-deed doing definitely gives a man an appetite.”

  Were they talking about desserts? Because the way he said appetite, and the implication that she would bake for him, sure sounded like something more. “You think what you did deserves cookies?”

  “Of course.” He smirked. “It’s the Pavlovian way to train a good guy. He does something right, you reward him with food.” His eyes darkened, and the temperature between them arced upward. A heartbeat passed. Another. “Or…something else.”

  Desire curled inside her and, for a second, she felt a flirty smile play with her lips. But then she remembered the reality. She and Zach were over. There wasn’t any innuendo between them because she couldn’t afford to let that in. If she did, they’d end up kissing again, and kissing led to the bedroom…. And Ethan was not too far away—the man she was supposed to be focused on instead of the man she had broken up with months ago. “Well, it’ll have to be cookies because I’m definitely not doing the something else.”

  Except a part of her really did want to do something else. The part of her that remembered what is was like to make love to Zach. The part of her that had seen him helping a neighbor and remembered all over again why she had once loved him.

  “Too bad,” he said. “Because that was way better than any cookies.”

  And yet, still she flirted. Still she pushed that envelope. “Even better than Mildred’s white chocolate macadamia nut cookies?”

  Zach put a finger to his chin, feigning deep thought. “I don’t know. Those were pretty incredible.”

  She gave him a gentle slug. “That good, huh?”

  His face shifted from teasing to serious. “You were more incredible, Jillian.”

  Heat stole into her cheeks. Her heart softened, and she wanted to stay here, in this moment, for a long, long time. She forgot about Ethan for a second, forgot about the car accident, forgot about everything but his soft brown eyes and the way his voice curled around her.

  “Oh, Zach,” she said softly. “Why did you never say any of these things when we were together?”

  If he had—if he had tried harder to be a boyfriend who gave instead of took, then maybe she never would have put her ring on his amp. Maybe she would have worked harder to keep them together. Or maybe she would have given him a second chance.

  “I was an idiot, JillyBean. Some would argue I still am an idiot.” He reached out a hand, as if he were going to touch her, then glimpsed Ethan striding over to them. The flirty mood between them evaporated in an instant. “Anyway, you have a good day. I’m going to go talk to Officer Nichols and see if he had any questions about the…aftermath.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Thanks. You, too.”

  Zach turned on his heel just as Ethan closed the gap. Jillian told herself that what she felt in that moment wasn’t disappointment. But there was something a lot like a stone in her gut, and the happy anticipation she’d had for the day with Ethan seemed to flit away.

  FIFTEEN

  Zach was a serious glutton for punishment. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to go to Darcy and Kincaid’s barbeque, to the one place where Jillian and her new boyfriend would be? Hadn’t he had enough of seeing them together at the restaurant and the car accident?

  But no. Like a moron, Zach hopped in his car and headed over to Darcy and Kincaid’s house, pulling in to the right of the silver car that Jillian and that guy had arrived in. Zach didn’t like him much—okay, didn’t like him at all. He wasn’t sure if that intense dislike stemmed from seeing the other man with Jillian, or if it was justified by the way he had ignored the people in the car accident, or how he seemed to have this haughty attitude outside the restaurant, or all of the above.

  Kincaid strode up to Zach as he rounded the corner into their backyard. “You look like a guy who could use a beer.”

  Zach chuckled. “You read my mind.”

  Kincaid clapped Zach on the shoulder, then pressed a full, cold beer into his hands. Kincaid’s face softened with sympathy. Back when Kincaid and Darcy had dated years ago, the four of them had hung out from time to time, and Zach had always liked the down-to-earth lawyer and heir to wealth he didn’t want. “She’s here, with her date,” Kincaid said.

  “I know.” Zach cursed himself again for coming. But he liked Kincaid and Darcy, always had, and didn’t want to miss their barbecue. Though when he’d accepted the invitation, he’d had no idea how painful it would be to see Jillian with that guy again.

  “But what you don’t know,” Kincaid went on, “is that Jillian keeps glancing over at the side gate every five seconds, as if she’s looking for someone else to show up.”

  That surprised Zach. And filled him with a ridiculous amount of hope. “Let’s hope that someone else is me.”

  “You’ll never know till you get in there.” Kincaid pushed on the gate, and the two of them stepped into the backyard. As they did, Darcy turned and caught her fiancé’s eye. The two of them exchanged a quick, private smile. The kind that made Zach feel a little—okay, a lot—of envy at the obvious love between Kincaid and Darcy. In a few days, they’d be married, and forming a family with their little girl Emma.

  Zach had always thought he didn’t want that. But he realized now, looking at the pure joy in Darcy and Kincaid’s faces, that he wanted exactly what they had. Wanted it a lot.

  What was that old saying? About not knowing what you had until it was gone? He knew that now, and if he could have rewound the last few months, he would have in a heartbeat.

  A few dozen people were already there, standing by the grill, sitting in the Adirondack chairs. But Zach’s gaze skipped over them all and went straight to Jillian. She was talking to Darcy, a smile on her face and a beer in her hand, looking as relaxed and at home here as she did everywhere she went. Zach’s heart did a little skip-beat.

  Turn around, he thought. Turn around so I can see your smile.

  But she didn’t read his mind. She just kept on talking to Darcy. So he admired her from a distance, the lacy white coverup that she wore, which let her bathing suit peek out in very enticing ways, the way her hair was loose and over her strong shoulders, the way she kept tucking one errant strand behind her ear whenever the breeze would whisk it forward.

  “I think I’m going to go talk to the new guy, keep him occupied for a bit,” Kincaid said. “While I’m doing that, maybe you want to go over and see if Jillian needs a refill or something.”

  Zach gave Kincaid a grin. Yet another reason to like the guy. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Kincaid ambled over to Jillian’s date and started talking to him. The two of them walked toward the grill, and Zach beelined for Jillian. Darcy smiled when he approached, then said something to Jillian and turned away. Jillian pivoted to go, saw Zach, and stopped. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.” He handed her his still untouched beer. “Brought you a refill.”

  She smiled. “Mine’s still full. But thanks.”

>   “Well, cheers then.” He tipped the bottle towards hers and they clinked, then each took a sip. He wanted to say a thousand things, all the things he had said before, but instead he fell back on small talk. That was easier. Safer. “So, the wedding is next weekend, huh?”

  “Saturday night on the beach. Nothing too fancy.” She grinned. “You know Darcy and Kincaid. They’d hate something all formal.”

  He was looking forward to Darcy and Kincaid’s wedding, and to seeing Jillian up there as the maid of honor. A long time ago, he’d thought that he and Jillian would dance at that wedding, but….

  He cleared his throat. “I’d hate something all formal, too. Can you see me in a tux and a hot church?”

  “Nope. Not unless you were shooting a music video or something.” She grinned again. She dipped her gaze to the bottle in her hand. “You planning on getting married anytime soon?”

  “No,” Zach said, though standing this close to Jillian, he realized that he could be planning his own wedding if he hadn’t screwed up their engagement so badly. It could have been the two of them on the beach, instead of their friends. Why had he procrastinated on setting a date? Why had he let her get away?

  And why was he still letting her get away? He kept tiptoeing around, trying to get back together with her, instead of actually out-and-out asking her on a date again. He glanced over at Kincaid and the other guy, still talking about whatever was cooking on the grill, and knew if he didn’t do something soon—like now—Jillian was going to be lost to him forever. “So…what are you doing Monday night?”

  Jillian’s eyes widened and she stopped her sip of beer, halfway to her mouth. “Are you…asking me out?”

  “Yes. I am.” He shifted closer to her, drawing in the light floral scent of her perfume, the warmth of her skin, just the mere presence of her. She had a way about her that…calmed him, simply by being close to her. He wanted that back. “Let’s start over, JillyBean. Start from scratch.”