The Mistakes I've Made

by J. L. Berg

  Your attention wasn’t exactly on him.

  No, I’d been completely distracted by Taylor and his blonde lunch date to be bothered with Jack.

  But all that was behind me now.

  We had rules.

  Rules that would keep our hands off each other.

  Rules that would keep his lips from ever touching mine.

  My eyes drifted to the nearest window, and soon, my body followed. There was a single light on in the Sutherland Fishing Company office.

  With a single occupant.

  From here, I could see Taylor hunched over that worn desk of his, staring at a laptop.

  Checking the time on my phone, I found it was well past closing time.

  I guessed I wasn’t the only one who worked after hours.

  My feet took a step toward the door.

  Toward Taylor.

  “What am I doing?” I said out loud.

  I’d just turned down dinner with a man in order to keep it professional, and now, I was running back to the one man I couldn’t keep away from.

  I stopped short of the door, feeling defeated.

  Defeated and alone.

  I’d always thought that moving to a new place would be adventurous.

  Adventurous and fun.

  For years, I’d been envious of every other project leader as they packed their bags and headed to a new destination. I’d lie awake at night, wondering what exciting things they were doing while I was stuck in the same, boring place.

  But I had been okay with it because I knew I’d eventually have my chance.

  Now that I was living it, now that I was here, the only thing I felt was trapped. Trapped inside this building with nowhere to go because everyone I knew was thousands of miles away.

  My eyes traveled to the window once again.

  Back to Taylor.

  This time, when my feet stepped toward the door, I let them.

  I’d almost lost my nerve half a dozen times by the time I walked through Taylor’s door. My belly was a pile of nerves, and I had no idea why.

  It wasn’t like I’d never been here before.

  Although the last time had been…

  I swallowed hard, trying not to think of that dizzying kiss as Taylor’s eyes met mine.

  “Hi,” I managed to say.

  “Hi,” he answered back, a note of surprise painting his handsome features.

  An awkward silence followed as he waited for me to explain my reason for showing up after business hours.

  “I saw your light on,” I said. “And I thought you might want to grab a bite to eat.”

  His brow rose as his gaze gave me a once-over. “A bite to eat? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Why?” I asked, my arms crossing defensively in front of me.

  “Well, I thought we were going to keep things professional.”

  “And we can’t do that with food in front of us?”

  His head cocked to the side. “Point taken. You have a place in mind?”

  “Um…”

  His smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but join him.

  “Do you like beer?”

  “I do,” I answered proudly. “Well, as long as it’s not too dark.”

  “Good enough for me. Let’s go.”

  I followed him as he headed out the door, and I took a moment to appreciate the way his dark jeans clung to his backside. I’d never given much thought to jeans on a man, but seeing them on Taylor? Yeah, I was very thankful to whoever had created these denim marvels.

  He made quick work of locking up the place, and soon we were side by side, walking down the road.

  “So, where are we headed? Because I said food, right? And you asked me if I liked beer.”

  He chuckled. “A buddy of mine owns this tap-house in town. He makes great food, but what he’s really known for is his beer. So, it seemed sort of lame to take you there if you weren’t up to trying at least a few.”

  “A few?”

  There was that smile again. “They come in flights—small cups,” he explained, his thumb and pointer finger indicating the size for me.

  “Oh, okay. Good. I was afraid you were trying to get me drunk.”

  “Now, why would I need to get you drunk, Leilani?” His voice was dark and full of promise, and when he said my name, I nearly tripped on the sidewalk.

  Luckily, I didn’t have time to answer his question because the restaurant he’d spoken of was closer than I’d realized.

  Looking up as we walked through the doors, I discovered I actually passed by it daily on my way to the hotel.

  I really need to explore the island more.

  “Hey, Taylor!” a handsome-looking guy greeted us. He was wearing a gray T-shirt that boldly bore the restaurant’s name, Taps, across the chest.

  “Hey, Gavin,” he said. “Got room for two more?”

  The place was packed, which was impressive for a weekday in Ocracoke during the off-season.

  “Of course,” he answered, giving Taylor a goofy grin and sending me a flirty wink. “Saved you my best table.”

  I highly doubted that was true, but it was nice all the same. He handed us menus and made sure we were comfortable in our secluded booth before leaving us on our own.

  “So, do you take all your conquests here?” I asked, giving him a knowing grin.

  He gave it back tenfold as he peered at me over the top of his menu. “Only during happy hour,” he answered. “Otherwise, it gets pretty expensive.”

  My mouth hung open as I tried to find a suitable response.

  “I’m kidding!” He laughed. “Besides, you’re not a conquest, remember?”

  I shrugged, leaning forward. “I know. I just—”

  “You’re curious? Since you saw me with Sierra?”

  Another shrug. “Is that her name?”

  His grin widened. “Yes, that’s her name, and like I said, she’s just a friend.”

  I gave him a hard stare. How dumb did he think I was? I had seen the way she looked at him.

  “Okay.” He put his hands up in defeat. “She’s just a friend now. We’ve been a little more than friends, but that’s in the past.”

  “And are you a little more than friends with a lot of women on the island?”

  Now, it was him who leaned forward, his broad, muscled arms stretching wide along the table. “Is this how you conduct all your professional relationships?”

  “That kiss this afternoon? Is that how you conduct yours?”

  He laughed. “Touché.”

  Leaning back now, I couldn’t help but notice the way his body seemed to go on for miles. And then I remembered how it’d felt when pressed up against me.

  So hot and rigid.

  “What’s the real reason you asked me to dinner tonight, Leilani?”

  Because I couldn’t stay away…

  Because I feel drawn to you…

  “Because I don’t know anyone else on this island,” I answered. “And I guess I needed a friend.”

  “A friend?” He seemed amused by the word.

  “Yes,” I answered. “A friend.”

  “And you think we can be friends? We usually can’t make it through five minutes without pissing each other off.”

  Or wanting to tackle one another to the ground…

  “I really don’t have a lot of other options.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, and I knew it. Molly and I had chatted on several occasions. I could have easily called her tonight.

  But I hadn’t.

  I’d come to Taylor.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have time for distractions.”

  My brows furrowed.

  “Today, in my office,” he said. “After we—”

  “Oh.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Friends aren’t distractions,” I said simply.

  He looked doubtful as he eyed me, indecision written all over his face, until he finally said, “Well then, as your friend, can I tell you what an awful mistak
e you’re making with Jake Halladay?”

  I let out a laugh. “No, definitely not.”

  “What?” His laughter joined mine. “Why not?”

  “Because you’ve had it out for him from the moment you saw him, and I don’t think it has anything to do with friendship.”

  “He seems like a jerk.”

  “You’re just jealous,” I said.

  He didn’t reply, but the way he looked at me told me that, yes, he was very jealous indeed.

  Soon, our waiter was at our table, taking drink orders, and my head was spinning from all the different beer options. Luckily, my new friend, Taylor, helped me out, picking out several North Carolina pale ales he thought I’d like.

  After the waiter disappeared to go grab our drinks, we were once again alone, and I was left with the rare opportunity of a topic change.

  One I took and ran with.

  “Did you always know you wanted to be a fisherman? I mean, is that what you call yourself? I know you don’t do, like, typical fisherman stuff. Is that the right title?” I was rambling, and the smile on Taylor’s face told me he knew it as well.

  “No to the first question,” he said. “And yes, I still consider myself a fisherman, although not in the commercial sense of the word.”

  “I don’t understand what that means.”

  His lip curled. “When my father ran the business, we were strictly a commercial fishing company and supplied most of the seafood for the restaurants and locals on the island. But we’ve since had to make changes to keep up with the times.”

  “Something to do with those financial difficulties you mentioned?”

  He shrugged. “Adapt or die, right?”

  “Bold words coming from a man so intent on keeping everything exactly the same.”

  His brow lifted. “Not exactly the same, no. But I do believe in honoring the past.”

  “Now, why do I have the feeling another history lesson is in my future?”

  He grinned. “You know, I used to be an excellent tour guide back in the day.”

  I laughed, trying to picture a younger version of Taylor Sutherland wooing girls with his fun island facts. “I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

  “Stick around long enough, and I might just win you over with that hotel redesign,” he said with a wink.

  I gave him an uneasy smile and attempted to change the subject again.

  I could have told him that he almost had.

  I could have told him that I’d spent all night after our trip to the lighthouse researching The Cozy Hotel, pulling up photo after grainy photo, trying to piece together in my mind what the hotel must have been like.

  And then I’d done something insane.

  I’d called up Jake Halladay and asked for not one, but two completely different plans for my hotel.

  But I couldn’t tell Taylor. Why?

  I was scared.

  Scared that if he knew his words had worked, that I’d already been won over by his love for his town, so much so that I’d nearly compromised my entire project to cram in another design plan, all this would end.

  The daily visits.

  The conversations.

  The rules I so badly wanted to break.

  If he found out his work was done, would all this disappear?

  Would he?

  As per usual, Taylor was correct, and Taps proved to be a spectacular place for both beer and food. But, by the time we got out of there, it was bordering on late.

  “I should walk you home,” he said, looking down the empty street.

  “No,” I said. “It’s okay. I can manage.”

  He gave me a look that said there was no use in arguing with him.

  “Okay, fine,” I agreed. “But, if you’re going to walk me home, I expect a history lesson.”

  “A history lesson? It’s ten o’clock!”

  “You said you were once the best tour guide on the island. Don’t tell me you never gave private tours to cute, young tourists late at night.”

  “Of course I did, but usually, it was just to the beach to show them the wild ponies, and when none of them would show, we’d make out.”

  I let out a laugh. “And that worked?”

  “Did you hear the part about the ponies? Of course it worked.”

  We’d already begun walking, the buzz from my beer working its way out of my body as the chilly air hit my skin.

  “Are there really wild ponies?”

  He grinned. “No. They’ve been penned since the fifties, but it’s a good story, isn’t it?”

  “You’re horrible!”

  Hands firmly in his pockets, he shrugged. “I’m ingenious. And see? You almost fell for it, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, you did. Everyone loves ponies. Especially girls. But, seriously, I’ll take you to see them, if you want?”

  I eyed him suspiciously, and his hands went up in front of him.

  “Just for the ponies, I swear. You really should see them. They’re stunning.”

  Another laugh fell from my lips. “Okay, deal. But that’s tomorrow. Where are you taking me tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  I could see that, even in the dim light from the moon, he was thinking it through.

  “Oh, I have a good place, but we’ll have to backtrack a few blocks. Come on.” He abruptly grabbed my arm and pivoted around. “We’re going to a cemetery.”

  “A what?” I exclaimed.

  “It’s just a small one, but that’s not what makes it special.”

  “Okay, now I’m interested and a little creeped out. So, what makes it special?”

  A knowing smile spread across his face. It was one I recognized well now. It was the smile he used whenever he was about to tell something epic.

  “It’s actually on British soil.”

  “Wait, what?”

  He nodded. “Cool, right?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Back in World War II, several allied ships sank off the coast, and when the bodies washed ashore on the island, the locals buried them here. Great Britain leases the land where they are buried, hence the reason it is British soil.”

  “So, I could stand in the cemetery and say I’m in the UK?”

  He looked a little dumbfounded. “I mean, I guess you could, but you’d also be standing on the poor soldiers’ graves.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Right. That’s kind of horrible. Bad idea. Why do you know so much about history, Taylor?”

  He shrugged. “You know how you asked if I always wanted to be a fisherman?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, back when I was younger and the business wasn’t tanking, I was supposed to go off to college and major in history. I guess that part of me never faded.”

  “That, and the die-hard tour guide.” I laughed.

  “Well, that’s only for special people,” he said, giving me a small side bump. It was a familiar and intimate gesture, one you did with someone you were close with, and I found a giddy smile spreading across my face.

  And, to think, just twenty-four hours ago, this man had me so enraged; I thought flames might shoot from my ears.

  What a difference a day made.

  I opened my mouth to ask him more about the cemetery, but a loud noise stopped me in my tracks.

  The piercing sound of a police siren seemed to go against everything I’d learned of the small town.

  Quiet, peaceful, safe.

  Taylor grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his chest as the flashing lights of a cop car came toward us.

  “What the hell?” I heard him whisper.

  We both waited until it came to a stop, the officer taking his time in getting out of the car, which seemed to be a bit of a struggle for him. I looked up toward Taylor, giving him a questioning look, and he seemed just as lost as I was.

  Apparently, this wasn’t a normal occurrence on the island. That gave me a little peace of mind.

  “Evening, Macon
,” Taylor said the moment the officer stepped toward us. He was still holding my hand, still holding me close to his body, like he was protecting me.

  From the police officer…

  “You know it’s late, Taylor.”

  “It’s barely past ten,” he answered calmly.

  “You arguing with me?”

  “No, Macon,” he replied immediately. He squeezed my hand. “I was just walking Leilani back to her room at By the Bay.”

  We were pointed in the wrong direction, and for a moment, as the officer stood there, looking from one end of the street to the other, I thought he’d caught Taylor in the middle of a lie, but he just nodded.

  “By the Bay?” he murmured.

  Taylor nodded.

  “That’s Jake’s place now, isn’t it?”

  Taylor seemed a bit taken aback by the comment but simply agreed. “Jake and Molly’s, yes.”

  “Right,” he said, a sort of sad, distant look on his face. “Well, carry on then.”

  Taylor’s thumb brushed the skin over mine before he took a step forward, his voice low as he addressed the officer as a friend, “You okay, man?”

  A flash of anger danced across Macon’s face. “Of course I am. Now get out of here before I find a reason to be angry!”

  Taylor and I made eye contact. There was a worried look on Taylor’s face, but he knew better than to press his luck, and he did what Macon had asked.

  “Have a good night,” he said before he ushered us in the direction of the inn.

  Neither of us said a word for several blocks until we were sure we were out of earshot, and the whole way, he never let go of my hand.

  “Taylor, he didn’t seem fine,” I said.

  “No,” he agreed. “And the worst part? I think I caught a whiff of alcohol on his breath.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He shook his head as we headed for the inn. “I don’t know, but I guess our trip to the cemetery has been postponed.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “I could still take you to see the ponies tomorrow,” he offered.

  A smile flashed across my face. “That wasn’t just a cheesy pick-up line?”

  “Nope,” he answered. “It’s really a thing. Look it up.”

  “I believe you. And the answer is maybe, depending on how my day goes.”

  “I’ll take a maybe.”

  I’d hoped he would, and the smile already stretched thin across my face grew even wider as we wandered down the street.