by Noelle Adams
Dana shrugged. “But can we ever really have enough?”
Lucy stared at her assistant, wondering what had gotten into her. Dana was usually as organized and efficient as anyone could ask for, always ready to move on to the next project.
Dana’s mouth quirked up. “I mean, if you wanted to stay here a little longer, we could always film some more.”
Lucy suddenly understood what the other woman was referring to, and it made her want to shift in her seat.
They’d been on the island now for ten days, more than enough time to complete the job, but the truth was Lucy did want to stretch the trip out a little longer. She wasn’t excited about leaving.
There was no justification for remaining, however. The sex with Philip was great, but both of them knew it was just temporary. Lucy wasn’t going to be so foolish as to try to stretch this out, just because she was feeling inappropriately attached to him.
“Why would I want to stay longer?” she asked coolly, wondering if Dana would come out and admit it.
“Well,” Dana replied in her soft Southern drawl, “you might want to stay longer if you were having a particularly good time here.”
Lucy felt her cheeks warm slightly, and she gave Dana a narrow-eyed look.
“Everyone knows you and that hot archaeologist have been having a very good time.”
Lucy’s cheeks grew even warmer, but she wasn’t surprised. The island was very small, and there was virtually no privacy. Everyone must know that she and Philip had been sleeping together. “What’s your point?”
“I thought maybe you wanted to spend some more time with him. Or, if you really can't, I guess you could come back later to visit again.”
“Dana, it’s just a fling. The point of a fling is that it’s just temporary.”
“But why does it have to be? You two make a great couple. Everyone thinks so. The others keep saying he’s like a new man this last week.”
Lucy shifted restlessly in her chair again, wishing she’d shut down this conversation before it had really started, “You all shouldn’t be gossiping and indulging in silly delusions.”
“They’re not delusions. He’s good for you too. You seem different…I don’t know…happier or something.”
Lucy could see that it had taken a certain amount of courage for Dana to speak those last words, so she didn’t snap her head off the way she was tempted. “It’s just great sex, Dana. That could relax anyone and put them in a good mood.”
“It’s not just that. I really think there’s something there. Maybe you should at least consider—“
“Dana, please. Even if the logistics between us would ever work out—and that’s enough to make a relationship implausible—we both know it’s just a fling. That's why we did it at all. It would be crazy to pursue a relationship that has no future. Philip is not potential-husband material. He’s not even serious-boyfriend material.”
“Why not?”
Lucy’s stomach was twisting so much she felt vaguely sick. “Enough. You’re not going to take me down that particular rabbit-trail. Just tell Sawyer we’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
***
Philip lay on his back naked in bed and stared up at Lucy moving above him.
She was just as naked as he was, and she was riding him with shameless abandon, her breasts bouncing with her wild motion and her hair flying all over her flushed face.
He was mesmerized, blown away by her. He’d never been with a woman who gave herself over so completely, who held nothing back the way she did.
Philip wanted it. Needed it. Couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Of the way she was with him.
Lucy came then, her body shuddering and her head falling back with a silent scream of pleasure. The tightening of her intimate muscles around him and her naked pleasure pulled him into climax as well.
He’d never known he could let himself go so completely. But she did. So he could too.
And it always left him wanting more.
She collapsed on him afterwards, and he didn’t even want to pull away from her clinging. He wrapped his arms around her and felt something soften in his chest.
She’d been strangely quiet tonight. No witty banter or engaged conversation like all the other nights they’d spent together. She’d just silently pulled him into bed.
She felt fragile in his arms, somehow. He didn’t know why. But he held her even tighter because of it.
She was going to leave soon. He knew her filming must be wrapping up and, when it had, she would have no more reasons for staying here.
He’d been trying not to think about it—and just enjoy the time they had together—but it was going to happen any day now.
Part of him wanted to suggest various alternatives that would allow them to see each other again after her shoot on the island was over. He knew it wasn’t a good idea, though.
This had always been just a fling. He never would have had sex with her the first time if either of them had dreamed of it going any farther.
It was just that he didn’t like the way his days and nights would look after she was gone.
Very soon, Lucy got up and off him, taking care of the condom. When she came back to bed, he pulled her back into his arms.
She still didn’t say anything.
“You okay?” he asked at last, since her quietness was definitely not characteristic and so it troubled him.
“Yeah,” she murmured, “Just tired.”
She sounded tired. He should have been tired too, since they’d gotten very little sleep for the last week. But he wasn’t tired at all.
“How’s the filming progressing?”
“Good. We’re done. We can leave tomorrow.”
Philip froze, the words hitting him like a blow. After a long stretch of silence, he asked slowly, “You weren’t going to tell me?”
“I was. I just did. We only just decided we had enough to go with late this afternoon.” Her cheek was pressed against the side of his chest, and she wasn’t meeting his eyes.
So this was his last night with Lucy. He didn’t like that idea. At all.
He hadn’t had enough. He wanted more of her.
He cleared his throat. “Maybe we can keep in touch after you leave.”
She lifted her head to look down on him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “What do you mean?”
He gave a half-shrug, trying to sound casual, although he didn’t feel that way at all. “It wouldn’t be that hard for us to get together now and then.”
She made a strange, twisting face. “We live on different continents. It’s going to awfully complicated to maneuver times together just for a little bit of sex.”
“Is that all we have?”
Lucy stared, her eyes widening.
“I’m not saying we’re in some fated love affair,” Philip hurried on, when he saw her expression. “I’m just saying we’re good together. There’s…I don’t know…potential.”
He felt incredibly awkward as he added with another half-shrug, “Why give it up?”
At least Lucy’s shocked expression had moderated. She lay back down in the crook of his arm. “How do you imagine something like that working?”
“I don’t know exactly. But we both have resources and flexible work schedules. I can only dig for a couple of months in the summer. The rest of the year, I can get away pretty easily. You travel a lot as it is. I don’t think it would be that hard.”
Lucy was silent for a long time, and Philip was sure she was thinking, considering. As he waited, he realized he was holding his breath.
“I don’t think so,” she said at last.
He released his breath, trying to keep his body relaxed. She would be able to tell if he tensed up too much, since she was pressed up against him. “Why not?”
“It just doesn’t seem worth it. I mean, if there was a possible future for us, maybe…but I just don’t see that happening.”
Philip would never have even thought, much less spoken,
of a long-term future with Lucy at this stage of their relationship had the conversation not pushed him into it.
But there was a point to be made here—a point he cared about—and he wasn’t going to just give it up for no good reason. “Why not?” he asked. “We have as much chance as anyone else. We’re good together.”
Lucy snorted. “In bed.”
And it hurt. It actually hurt Philip to hear her dismiss the last week so lightly.
It had meant something to him. Meant more than just sex.
“We’re good together out of bed too,” he said slowly. “Don’t try to deny it.”
She just shrugged, and her voice sounded strange when she concluded, “I just don’t think it would be worth it.”
There wasn’t any argument to make to that. If she didn’t think what they had was worth some complicated logistics, then that was the way it was.
He wasn’t going to beg her to stay with him. He had a perfectly good life as it was. He had fulfilling work, purpose, goals, and responsibilities.
He had the life he’d had ten days ago—one he was fully satisfied with.
And, if right now it seemed like the rest of his days would all be a little empty without Lucy in them, he would get over that soon.
He’d learned not to let women hurt him, and he wasn’t going to make himself vulnerable to another emotional assault now.
One week of sex with an incredible woman wasn’t going to destroy everything he’d built for himself in the last decade.
He wouldn't let it.
Neither one of them spoke for the rest of the night.
***
The next morning, Philip was up, dressed, and outside before Lucy woke up.
She felt a sick heaviness in her chest and her stomach as she showered, dressed, and packed to leave.
She’d felt something similar when she’d broken off her engagements, which only showed how foolishly attached to Philip she’d allowed herself to be.
She shouldn’t feel the same way about ending a week’s fling as she felt about ending an engagement.
She did.
To her utter shock, he'd given her another choice last night, one she'd never dreamed he'd offer. But that particular future was too tenuous, too terrifying, and she wasn’t going to let her heart rest in Philip’s hands.
He hadn’t been a man she could rely on back in college, and he wasn’t a man she could rely on now.
It would be too easy for her to fall for him completely, and that would only crush her in the end.
When he’d asked for them to keep seeing each other last night, she’d actually felt a flare of hope—but a flare she’d immediately snuffed out.
Part of her might like the idea, but she wasn’t going to do that to herself. She just wasn't.
When she left the trailer, giving a last look at the little bed in which she’d had so many incredible nights, the island felt strangely quiet.
Dana and Sawyer were saying goodbye to the grad students, so Lucy went over to join them.
Philip was over at the dig site.
She was tempted to get on the waiting ferry without going over to him. If he’d really wanted to say goodbye, he would be waiting to see her off.
But leaving without any sort of goodbye just felt petty, so she walked over to where Philip was crouching.
He was apparently inspecting a hole, but the hole appeared to be empty—at least to her.
“We’re taking off,” she said lightly.
He stood up and brushed off his trousers. “Have a good trip.”
“I had a good time,” she said, the sick heaviness getting even worse.
“Me too.” He looked casual—almost disinterested—not anything like the earnest hesitance of last night.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, wanting to ease the tension between them so they could part on a better note.
She couldn’t say anything.
Philip stared at her, his blue eyes strangely speaking.
His tone might have been casual, but his eyes weren't.
She made herself give him one last smile, although it was achingly poignant. “Take care of yourself, Philip.”
“You too.”
She left then. She walked away from the standing stones and barrow. Past the trailers, where she picked up Arthur’s carrier. To the waiting ferry.
She got on the boat, and then the boat took off, leaving the island behind.
Dana and Sawyer kept giving Lucy worried glances, but she diligently ignored them.
She would get over this. Soon.
Better to hurt a little bit now than hurt unbearably later.
Eight
Lucy clicked her keyboard a few times and stared at the monitor, watching three minutes worth of an edited montage of Philip and Michael MacPherson.
The images flashed from Philip to Michael with quick, carefully edited cuts, showing both of the men growing more intense and enthusiastic as their conversation about Erland Island's history continued. She paused and reversed several times over four seconds of film—a close-up of Philip in intent concentration transitioning to a shot of him rubbing his golden-brown hair in frustration.
The sight of him hurt—even after three weeks.
“It’s good, Lucy.”
The soft voice startled her, and she whirled around in her chair.
Sawyer stood behind her, his eyes on the monitor. “The whole episode is good. It's great. It’s ready to go.”
She turned back to the screen with a sigh. “I don’t like this transition,” she explained. “Isn’t it too jarring?”
“No. It’s good. It’s time to put this to bed.”
She knew he was right. She respected his professional opinion, and she’d come to the same conclusion herself.
But she couldn’t let it go.
She’d been working them all like a madwoman for the last few weeks, obsessing about every step of the editing process and rerecording the voice-overs about a hundred times.
More than once, Dana and Sawyer had left well after midnight, sometimes dead on their feet and sometimes on the verge of wringing her neck.
Lucy wasn’t a fool. She knew why she was obsessing.
She just couldn’t seem to help it.
She started to watch those same four seconds again, Philip’s handsome, focused face a kind of torture.
Lucy hadn’t been sleeping very well. Even on the nights she could, she would sometimes wake up suddenly on the image of Philip’s blue eyes.
Deep, aching, speaking. The way they’d been the morning she left the island.
She knew he was disappointed in her decision, but he couldn’t have been hurt that much. Certainly not enough for her to keep brooding about it. She was realistic, and men tended to get over things and move on quickly—especially since all Philip had lost was a week’s worth of sex.
But, even knowing this, she still felt guilty.
And she still wanted to see him so much.
She’d thought getting home and back to her normal surroundings and routine would have caused her time on the island to blur into a hot memory.
It didn’t. It hadn't. And it wasn't getting any better.
She couldn’t believe she’d done this to herself. She never should have given in and had sex with Philip. She should have known better from the very beginning.
“Lucy,” Sawyer prompted. “Can we put this episode to bed?”
She let out a long, shuddering exhalation. “Yeah.” She closed out the editing software she’d been working on. “It’s done.”
Sawyer’s face transformed with relief, but Lucy just felt kind of sick.
That heaviness in her gut just wouldn’t go away.
“Why did you put this Dr. Bronsen on your schedule tomorrow?” Dana asked without prelude after barging into the room. She looked a little peeved, as she always did when Lucy played fast and loose with her schedule.
Lucy arched her eyebrows. “Because I did.”
> “But his background seems kind of dodgy. I don’t like you to waste your time with kooks.”
“There’s no evidence he’s a kook. Not everyone has to go to a top-tier grad school.”
“True. But I still don’t understand.” Dana peered down at a file in her hand, one she must have put together as soon as she’d seen Lucy had added this appointment to her schedule. “I don't see anything interesting in his background or credentials. What made you think he was worth talking to?”
Lucy sighed. “He was a referral, and it’s just a half-hour appointment. What could it hurt?”
Dana started writing a note to herself on a page in the file. “Oh, okay. Good. Who referred him?”
“What does it matter?”
Dana lifted confused eyes. “I just like to keep track of these things.”
Lucy couldn’t be stubborn just to be stubborn—not with Dana, who was absolutely committed to doing the best for her. “Dr. Wentworth referred him.”
“Oh.” Dana’s expression changed. Relaxed somehow. “Oh. Good. Very good.”
She busily finished scrawling her note, and Lucy tried not to feel embarrassed.
Philip had sent her a quick email last week—nothing intimate or even friendly, just a brief note saying another archaeologist would be contacting her about a possible idea for an episode of Girl Meets Ghost and he would be worth listening to.
Lucy respected Philip’s opinion and wasn’t about to miss a good opportunity for the show. And, even if that wasn't true, she still would have taken the appointment.
She understood that the referral was a peace offering. Not a gesture of friendship or interest. Just a nod toward appeasement.
No hard feelings between them, even if things hadn’t ended as he’d wanted.
It was good. It was closure. After she met with Dr. Bronsen tomorrow, she’d send Philip a quick thank-you for the referral. The episode on Erland was complete now, so she could also tell him when it would air.
That would be it.
Lucy could move on completely.
She would get over this aching heaviness soon.
“What site is this guy proposing?” Dana asked, her voice breaking into Lucy’s reverie.
Lucy shifted on her seat.
“Dr. Bronsen? What site?” Dana prompted.
