And Then Forever

by Shirley Jump

  “Because I can’t let your head get too big. Or you’ll never fit through the door.” She grinned. Just being around Kincaid made her feel happier and stronger. She was so grateful to have him. “Seriously, though, back to lucky women, have you seen Darcy?”

  “I need some more coffee.” Kincaid got to his feet.

  “Grab me the cereal box,” Abby said. “I already want seconds.”

  He chuckled. “I think you are taking this eating for two thing literally.”

  “Hey, it’s the only time in my life I can do that without guilt.” She took the cereal box from him and dumped some more into her bowl. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding the question. Have you seen Darcy lately?”

  Oh yes, he’d seen Darcy, Kincaid thought. All of her. Just a few hours ago. His mind had replayed their lovemaking a hundred times last night. It had been hot and furious and amazing, and already he craved her again. Hell, he’d been craving her from the minute they finished. He’d never been able to get enough of Darcy, of her smile, her body, her laugh.

  But there was something between them now, something he couldn’t put a finger on. A wall of sorts, that he saw in her eyes whenever she looked at him. And when he’d talked about seeing her more, she’d looked almost…afraid. Which made no sense.

  “I’ve seen her,” Kincaid said now to his sister, “but I don’t think she wants to see me.”

  “Really? Because Darcy was totally in love with you that summer.” Abby toyed with her mug. “Heck, she even put up one of the dollar bills.”

  That surprised him. “She did?”

  “Yup. I was there when she did it. I don’t even think she knew I was there. I was in the back, with a bunch of those girls I made friends with that summer?” Abby’s gaze went out the window. “I wonder what happened to them. We kept in touch for a while, but I haven’t seen Leanne or Jennifer in ages. Maybe I should email them.”

  His sister was like that—she’d tell a story and detour onto three other paths before she got back to the point. Kincaid tried not to be impatient. “Tell me about the dollar bill.”

  “Oh yes, right. Sorry.” Abby redirected her attention to him. “Darcy was sitting with Jillian, and they were talking about you. I overheard her a little. And she was all smiley and happy and giggly…you know how it is.”

  “Yeah, I get giggly all the time.” From her place in the corner, Mooch let out a little yip, as if agreeing. But the thought of Darcy being giggly about him…well, it kind of made his heart sing a little.

  Abby swatted at him. “Well, you would giggle if you were in love like Darcy was with you.”

  Darcy had been in love with him? She’d never said anything, never even said the words I love you, but then again, neither had he. He’d thought it a thousand times, but it seemed so impossible to love someone you’d only known for a summer. He’d planned to tell her when he proposed, even had the whole dorky speech in his head: I love you, I want to be with you forever. “Then what happened?”

  Abby arched a brow and sat back in her seat. “So you are still interested in her.”

  “I didn’t say that. I…just wanted to hear the story.”

  “Right.” She scoffed. “Maybe I shouldn’t finish it just to drive you crazy.”

  “If you do, I will throw away every single Tastykake in this house.” For the last few weeks, Abby had been craving the chocolate frosted treats. Kincaid had bought an entire case of them on the mainland, and already they were half gone.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t tempt me. I’m bigger and stronger than you.” He grinned.

  She pursed her lips, then couldn’t hold the expression and ended up laughing. “You do not play fair.”

  “I’m not supposed to.” He wagged a finger at her. “I’m your big brother.”

  She shook her head. “All right. I don’t remember everything, because it was a few years ago, and I didn’t know there’d be a quiz today, but Darcy was talking about you and getting all giggly, and the next thing I saw, she pulled out a dollar bill and a marker and wrote something with her initials and yours, then she ran across the room and stapled it on the wall. Far as I know, it’s still there.”

  He made a mental note to look for the dollar bill the next time he was in The Love Shack. He knew the old legend about the wall, how anyone who wanted true love to come their way or for the love of their life to last forever, posted their feelings on the dollar bill and tacked it there. At the time, he’d thought it was a dorky rumor, one of those silly things that bars started just to add that little extra edge of mystique. He never thought Darcy believed in that legend either, but if she’d put a bill on the wall, maybe she did.

  And maybe that meant she’d felt more that summer than she’d ever let on. And if that was so, maybe she still could.

  He’d only been here a week, and already he found himself settling into Fortune’s Island like he had years ago. The place felt more like home than any of the fancy monstrosities he’d lived in over the course of his lifetime. And whenever he was with Darcy, that feeling multiplied.

  He still wanted everything he’d wanted that summer—only he wanted it more now because he knew what it was like to live without the tranquility he’d found in her, the acceptance of the residents, and most of all, Darcy’s smile. If there was still a chance that they could make it work, he was going to go after her.

  Because nothing had changed in his heart. Not in seven years. And after last night, he was beginning to have hope that nothing had changed in her heart, either.

  “Hey, Kincaid, I want to get out of here today,” Abby said. “What do you say we go down to the beach for a little while?”

  This side of the island wasn’t as busy as the other side, and not nearly as tourist-invaded as the northern end. Though he worried that someone would recognize himself or Abby, he thought it might be safe enough to venture down to the water for a little while. Besides, his sister had been cooped up in the house for days, and walking was probably good for her pregnancy. He’d keep an eye out, nonetheless. “Sure. But only if you promise to put on tons of sunscreen and drink a lot of water.”

  “Yes, Mommy.” She stuck out her tongue at him, then got to her feet. She packed a bag with sunscreen, towels and a floppy hat and the two of them headed for the door, with Mooch tagging along. The dog was already becoming a part of his life, and he knew he’d be sad the day he gave her up.

  On the porch, Abby turned back to face him. “You know, Darcy is a pretty awesome person. If she loved you once, she can love you again. While you’re here, I think you should see what could be. Because if you ask me, someone like that doesn’t come along very often.”

  No, Kincaid thought, as he followed his sister down the path to the water, someone like Darcy sure didn’t come along very often. Then he smiled. What was it Abby had said? If she loved him once, she could love him again. And that would be good, Kincaid decided. Very, very good.

  *~*~*

  Darcy awoke to a six-year-old staring into her face. “Good morning, monkey.”

  “Good morning, Mommy.” Emma’s face was serious, which meant she was about to ask for something. Darcy bit back a grin. “Nona says she has to go home soon. And I wanna go to the beach today. Can we go to the beach?”

  Darcy sat up, pressed a hand to her forehead. She’d only had two shots last night, but they were lingering in a headache on the fringes of her skull. That’s what she got for rarely drinking. Then she remembered where the tequila had gotten her—underneath Kincaid in a hot, sweaty, mindless moment of sex that had been amazing. But incredibly stupid.

  Good lord, she really needed to get her hormones under control. They clearly weren’t the smartest part of her.

  “Emma, I don’t know if we should go to the beach today—“

  “But, Mommy, you promised. And Nona bought me a new ball. A red one. And I wanna take it on the beach and play with it. And take my Barbies and let them go swimmin’.” Emma pouted for empha
sis.

  Darcy had promised Emma a trip to the beach, and ever since Kincaid arrived, she’d procrastinated and found excuses to keep Emma home. Maybe if they went early enough, Kincaid wouldn’t be up—hopefully nursing a hangover of his own—and she could manage to get Emma home without running into her father. “Okay, we’ll go but you have to—”

  Emma was already shouting her joy and running out of the room to change into her swimsuit. Darcy laughed, then got to her feet. She pulled a robe over her tank top and boxers, and padded out to the kitchen. Emma might be able to bounce into action first thing in the morning, but Darcy needed coffee—and lots of it—to even begin to function.

  Nona was sitting at the kitchen table, working on a crossword puzzle, when Darcy walked in. Sometimes seeing Nona there was like having a mom, Darcy thought, a mom who was invested in her granddaughter and her daughter. For the thousandth time, Darcy thought how grateful she was for the family she had formed on Fortune’s Island.

  “Good morning,” Nona said

  “Good morning.” Darcy pulled the biggest mug she owned out of the cabinet and filled it with hot, rich coffee. She added a spoonful of sugar and a dollop of cream, then slipped into the opposite kitchen chair. “Thanks for staying last night.”

  “No problem. Sometimes, it’s a lot nicer to be here than alone in my big empty house. I almost feel like I’m part of a family again.”

  Darcy covered Nona’s wrinkled hand with her own. Nona’s husband had died several years ago and both her grown children lived far away, which was part of why she’d sort of adopted Darcy and Emma. Family, Darcy had realized, wasn’t about blood, but about love. And she was terribly grateful to have such a loving family here on Fortune’s Island. “You are.”

  Nona gave her a watery smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  Darcy snagged a donut out of the box on the counter, then peered over at Nona’s crossword. “Eleven down, three letters, make a bad choice. Err.”

  “Ah, yes, I see.” Nona filled in the letters.

  Darcy wrapped her hands around the mug. Err. Yes, she had indeed done that. In the light of day, the decision to drink and then have sex with Kincaid hit her hard. She could have lost everything—and all because she’d let some warm memories and noisy hormones rule her choices. “Next time I ask you to stay overnight, remind me that I’ll regret it in the morning. Because I think I erred times ten last night.”

  Nona put down the pen and pushed the puzzle aside. “What happened?”

  “Too much Jose Cuervo and…” Darcy lowered her voice, “Kincaid.”

  Nona’s face broke into a wide smile. Nona, Whit and Grace had always liked Kincaid and, despite everything, thought him and Darcy would have made a great couple. She was sure all three of them were secretly rooting for them to get back together. “Really? That’s wonderful.”

  It had been wonderful. But with the clear light of day, and the lingering headache, Darcy realized a few good memories weren’t worth the risk she’d taken. “No, it’s not. It’s terrible. What if…what if he comes over here or someone says something to him or…” The fears and worries chased up her throat. She couldn’t even speak the final words: What if I lose Emma?

  “You need to give him a chance to make up his own mind, Darcy. He has a right to know.”

  “I know he does.” She circled the rim of the mug over and over again. It was an internal battle she had had a thousand times. Keeping Kincaid in the dark about his own child or telling him and taking the risk that she could lose everything. “I just worry that I’ll tell him and he won’t want anything to do with her, and then his father will find out and he’ll take her away.”

  “It’s been almost six years since she was born. That man,” which was how Nona always referred to Edgar Foster, with a little disgust in her tone, “hasn’t sent so much as a birthday card. Do you think he really wants custody?”

  “No. But I think he wants to destroy anything that distracts Kincaid from the path he’s supposed to take.” She still remembered how Edgar had done that when they were younger. He’d hired people to follow Kincaid, confronted his son at every turn, threatened to take away everything if Kincaid didn’t give up his “infatuation.” When none of that had worked, Edgar had gone to Darcy—and found the right leverage to break them up for good.

  “Kincaid is a grown man now, not a nineteen-year-old dependent on his father to keep a roof over his head. Let him make up his own mind,” Nona said. “And stop letting that man control whether you take your little girl to the beach or not.”

  Even from across an ocean and hundreds of miles away, Edgar Foster was controlling Darcy’s decisions. Emma wanted to go to the beach, and by God, she should be able to do that. After all, Fortune’s Island was Darcy and Emma’s home, not Kincaid’s. “You’re right, Nona. As always.”

  “You don’t get to be my age without learning a thing or two.” Nona smiled. She got to her feet, put her coffee cup in the dishwasher, then grabbed her purse. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a great day with the little monkey.”

  After Nona left, Darcy pulled on a swimsuit, shorts and a tank, then stuffed a tote bag with snacks, water bottles, towels and sand toys. Emma came running up with a bag of her own, brimming with Barbies. She had on her bright pink bathing suit and sparkly pink flip-flops, and had tucked her new ball under one arm.

  Darcy laughed. “I’d say you’re ready.”

  Emma nodded. “Yup. I got everything, Mommy. Can we go now?”

  Darcy twisted her hair into a clip as they headed out the door, then walked down the well-worn path that ran along the back of the cottage. A hundred yards later, the worn grass yielded to sand. Emma kicked off her flipflops, leaving them behind as she started charging toward the beach. Darcy laughed, grabbed the shoes, then took off her own and followed behind her daughter. Emma was already kicking the new ball, then chasing after it as a gust of wind caught the toy and carried it down the sand.

  Darcy watched her happy, smiling daughter running, her dark hair flowing like a curtain behind her, and thought Nona was right. Coming to the beach had been a perfect idea. A great way to decompress, forget about Kincaid for a while, and just get back to basics. To remind herself that she had a blessed life here, one that she had created, and that it would all be okay.

  For five seconds, Darcy got to enjoy that peace. Then Emma took off, rounding a corner on the beach, and Darcy ran after her daughter—

  And saw Kincaid standing at the other end.

  *~*~*

  Abby had taken up residence in a beach chair, under the shade of an umbrella, a romance novel propped open on her belly. She tucked headphones into her ears, then waved Kincaid off. “Go for a walk or something. So you don’t stand here and hover over me like a worried parent.”

  “Okay, okay.” He stripped off his shirt, left his shoes behind, then started walking along the water. Mooch followed along, padding happily down the shore. In the couple of days since Mooch had adopted him (because Kincaid was pretty damned sure the dog had made that choice, and he’d just gone along with it), Kincaid had fed the dog well, given her a bath and brushed her coat several times. She already looked a lot better, and ten times happier.

  As Kincaid walked, his toes sank in the wet sand while cool ocean water swirled around his ankles. God, he loved this island. Loved how calm it made him feel.

  Like everything was right in his world. And it was, in a way. Abby was a couple weeks from delivering her baby, they were happily ensconced in the rental cottage, and Kincaid was already planning what he could do in this next phase of his life.

  Once he dealt with his father—and the implications of what he had done by leaving his job and helping his sister leave her marriage—Kincaid could have a future. One he carved out himself.

  If he stayed on Fortune’s Island, maybe he could open up a small law practice here. Journey over to the mainland from time to time if he needed extra clients. Write part time, see if maybe he could make a career out of fi
ction, like he’d dreamed long ago. He still had a sizeable nest egg built up, and enough retirement savings to tide him over for a long time. He could afford to reduce his workload to a fraction of what it had been in New York. And maybe while he was here, he could see where things led with himself and Darcy. They were older now, and maybe, just maybe, they could make it work the second time around.

  He thought about the possibility of seeing her tonight. He didn’t even know if she was working, but if she wasn’t, he’d see her anyway. Maybe bring her a picnic dinner and invite her down to the beach. Darcy had never been a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, but he knew she’d enjoy a picnic. It had been seven years since they’d done that, and that was seven years too long.

  In the distance, Kincaid spied a bright red ball, tumbling down the shoreline, then plopping into the incoming tide. Kincaid broke into a jog, and scooped up the ball just before the water pulled it out to sea. He turned, the ball in his hand, and spied a little girl, maybe five or six, in a pink bathing suit. She had long dark hair, divided into twin ponytails, and big hazel eyes that widened when she saw him. She skidded to a stop a few feet away from him, casting a wary glance at the ball, then at him, then at Mooch, who had plopped her butt in the sand.

  Kincaid bent down and held out the ball. “Is this yours?”

  The little girl nodded, and put out two tentative palms to take the toy from him. When he placed it in her hands, she smiled. There was something familiar about her smile, about those eyes. Something that looked a lot like—

  “Emma! Don’t run off—”

  Kincaid looked up to see Darcy, rounding the corner and then running down the beach toward them. She had on white frayed denim shorts and a bright pink tank top over a striped bikini, and her wild blonde hair was up in one of those clip things. A dozen curly tendrils drifted along her jawline, teasing, tempting. God, she was a beautiful woman. Still had that edge to her that had drawn him in all those years ago. A dangerous, wild edge. Already, Kincaid was thinking about making love to her again, repeating last night. Damn.