by Kim Law
Ginger had lived on the island her whole life, and had taken over the ferry business when her dad passed away. She’d been working hard at growing the business ever since, adding boats for dinner cruises and dolphin watches. And she’d been Andie’s other maid of honor at the wedding that didn’t happen. Given the three of them were such good friends, Andie knew that Roni would have spent the afternoon filling Ginger in on everything that had happened at the bar earlier that day.
Andie nodded, knowing they had to have the conversation, but regretting the stress she could already feel returning to her shoulders at the thought of it. “Yep,” she said. “Mark.”
Roni squealed, and Maggie clapped when Roni’s toss went sailing perfectly to Hunter.
“Roni said he showed up at Gin’s today, unaware you were there.”
“But not unaware she was here on the island, apparently,” Roni tacked on as she jogged back to the group.
Andie shot her friend a hard look. “And someone just let him waltz back through the restaurant to search for me. Come on, Roni, what was that about? You had to know I didn’t want to talk to him.”
The Frisbee whizzed past, close to Ginger’s head, and Andie smiled at Maggie as she fell to her knees in a giggling fit.
“Did you do that, Maggie Moo?” Andie asked.
“No!” The girl giggled harder and pointed to Hunter. “It was him.”
Hunter shrugged his slim shoulders. “Y’all weren’t paying attention. I was just making sure you didn’t forget that we’re playing here.”
“I see.” Andie grabbed the Frisbee and shot both kids an evil grin. “Then you’d better beware! Because I have it now.”
Maggie giggled louder and Hunter’s eyes went wide. He held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “I’m sorry.” He laughed.
“Too late for that, kid.” Andie pulled back and sent it sailing well over his head so he’d have to run hard to catch it. He had a wide competitive streak. Not going after it was not an option.
Maggie took off after him, arms flailing and laughter ringing out, and Andie turned back to her friends. She really did enjoy playing with the kids. Few moments in her life were this laid-back. She loved it.
“Roni?” she asked. “What was that about? You know how I feel about Mark. Why would you let him come back there?”
Roni twisted up her mouth as she stood in front of her friend, then eyed Ginger as if looking for help. When none was forthcoming, she finally blurted out, “Because I’m not sure I do know how you feel about him.”
“How can you not? He left me at the altar. How do you think I feel? I hate him!”
“Yeah,” Roni started. “But that was four years ago. And Andie, you haven’t dated anyone since.”
“So what?”
Ginger nodded, catching the Frisbee as it came back and sending it sailing once again. “She has a good point.”
“What point?” Andie asked. “I haven’t heard a point.”
“That you should be dating by now. You should be over Mark,” Roni added.
“I am!”
“Then why won’t you date? You’ve had plenty of guys ask you out. And why did you look so shaken when you saw him today?”
Andie clenched her fists at her sides as she glared at her friends, ignoring the disc that flew over their heads. She forced herself to lower her voice to keep from screaming in frustration. “I don’t date because I have a business to run, and I looked shaken because I was not expecting him to show up in my bar.”
“But you looked …” Roni paused, once again turning to Ginger. “Help me out here. Tell her how she looks right now, just from talking about him.”
Ginger shot Andie an apologetic look and nodded. “I see what she’s talking about. You look kind of … uh …”
“What? Upset? Because the man left me to explain to everyone that the wedding they’d come to see was not going to happen. Why wouldn’t I be upset about that?”
“Yes, we understand that, but it’s — ”
“You think that since it’s been four years I should be past it and welcome him with open arms?”
“No! Of course not. We’re not saying you shouldn’t still be upset. We’re just saying …” Ginger flapped her arms in Andie’s general direction and then dropped them to her sides, all the fight gone out of her. “Your eyes, Andie. Your eyes are your weakness, sweetheart. They tell everything.”
Andie stood unmoving, barely noticing when Hunter mumbled something at them as he ran past to get the Frisbee. She looked from one friend to the other, then followed Roni’s gaze toward the boardwalk in the distance. Mark was standing there watching them, the sky, purple and pink from the setting sun, outlining his broad frame.
She faced her friends and pinned them with a hard look. “And what do you two think my eyes are telling you?”
“That it’s not over,” they said in unison.
Andie turned from them without another word and motioned with her hand to Hunter, forcing the movement to look normal. “Sorry, kiddo. Toss it here. I promise to pay attention.”
And she would not pay attention to her friends. Because they were wrong.
“We’re not saying you need to do anything other than get some closure, Andie,” Ginger said, her voice soft and urging.
“I had closure on my wedding day.” Andie said through gritted teeth. “My fiancé chose not to marry me, and I moved on. And I am over it. Completely.” She swung back to her friends. “And how could you not support me on this? You’re my friends. You’re supposed to be there for me when I need you.”
They both nodded. “We are here for you,” Roni said. She made a move with her hand that let Andie know that Mark was now heading in their direction. “And we’ll destroy him if he hurts you again — trust me, I’ll be first in line for that — but we think you need a chance to finish this once and for all. Face-to-face.”
She did not want to finish anything with him. “He finished it years ago.”
“Then why is he back now?” Ginger asked.
The same question had been running through Andie’s mind all afternoon.
Mark stepped up beside her and Roni sent him a hard look, making it clear she would have her eye on him, then dragged Ginger off to fetch the kids.
What worthless friends.
Andie did not turn to Mark. Instead, she stood there in the disappearing light, watching Roni and Ginger walk Hunter and Maggie over the dunes, where they would deposit them home safe and sound. And she wanted to cry. She wanted someone to make her feel safe and sound. And she did not want to finish anything with Mark. Because she honestly had no idea what that would even entail.
“Are you going to at least acknowledge that I’m here?” he finally asked, his voice as hard as she wanted hers to be.
She merely shook her head. No. She was not.
She started walking slowly down the beach in the direction her friends had gone, fighting the tears that begged to be released.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mark remained where he was, his shoes in hand and his pant legs rolled up above his ankles, taking in the slow, carefully modulated movements of Andie’s stride. At least she wasn’t running from him.
He figured he could either walk away and forget why he’d come — which would definitely be the easiest thing to do — and thus spend the remainder of his time on the island avoiding her, or he could go after her and force the conversation they needed to have. But the decision had to be made right then. Whatever he did, it would impact the remainder of the trip.
If he walked away, it would be over. For good. No more conversations, no more Andie.
That thought jabbed a pinprick of pain at the base of his chest.
But if they talked …
He watched her, studied her stiff posture as she moved. If he forced a conversation, she would fight it. She wouldn’t want him to see her pain, but he knew it was there. Of course he knew. He’d caused it. He’d caused his own in return. And then he’d reopened
everything by showing up on Turtle Island.
He nodded to himself. They had to talk, though chances were good nothing was truly fixable at this point.
And then there was the other issue.
The one where he wanted to beg her forgiveness and ask for another chance. And how ridiculous was that? But as he’d watched her laugh and have fun out here on the beach, he’d been reminded of those early days, of the dreams he’d made with her. She’d once been that happy with him. She’d danced every night whether music was playing or not. And he’d built his world around dreams of the two of them growing old together. Raising a family together. He’d even planned to have a weekend home on the beach, just for her.
And he’d given it all up in the blink of an eye.
He’d never really doubted his decision until tonight, but as he’d stood watching her, his insides had howled at the injustice of it all. Had he given up too easily?
Was it too late to find out?
Was he a moron for even having the thought?
Yes.
“Andie,” he called out. Maybe it was too late for them, but she did deserve an apology.
She didn’t turn, but she did stop walking. It was so dark now that she was merely one of the shadows, but he could see her well enough. She was soft and curvy, standing there with the loose skirt of her dress billowing around her knees and her bare feet digging in the sand. She had the ankle bracelet on, too. The one she’d always worn. Something about it had always added to the need he’d felt to protect her.
Even without another conversation, he already knew that she hadn’t changed that much. She was still sweet and gentle on the inside. It was the way she’d been made. But the woman could get riled. And he suspected she was very much that way at the moment.
Not only had he sought her out when she’d clearly been avoiding him, but her friends had also deserted her. Only, not before the short one had shot him the I’ll-kill-you-in-an-instant-if-you-hurt-her look. That had come from Roni. She’d been at Gin’s earlier. He’d finally recognized her from the rehearsal dinner from years ago. No wonder she’d gone cold on him at the bar.
He had a feeling that either she or Ginger — the other friend who’d been both on the sand with them and in Boston at the wedding — would gladly skin him alive if he hurt Andie again, but he couldn’t walk away just yet. He’d found himself physically unable to not seek her out.
He moved closer, unsure where to start. Before he had a chance to figure it out, the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, and Andie rotated in his direction. It was only a half moon, but enough to illuminate her features. Her face appeared as smooth as carved rock, and her long, reddish-brown hair blew out behind her, the loose curls catching in the breeze.
“You’re beautiful, Andie.”
A sardonic slash angled across her mouth. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me, Mark. I’m immune to you now.”
“I wasn’t,” he said. He wanted to reach out and touch her but valued his limb. “But it’s the truth. You were beautiful before, but here in the moonlight, on the beach, you’re stunning. You look like you belong.”
She nodded. “I do. I should thank you for that, I suppose.”
Though she didn’t look very thankful at the moment. When no other words came to him, he said the only thing running through his mind. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
The clouds shifted, obscuring the moonlight so that he couldn’t see her eyes, but he got a good sense of her thoughts from the stiffness in her body. He swallowed against the lump in his throat.
“Is that it?” she asked. “All you wanted to say?”
“No.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then say it and let’s call this done, shall we?”
Her attitude suddenly irritated the hell out of him. He wasn’t used to people not backing down. Stepping closer, he put his face down in front of hers. “Lose the attitude, Andie, we both made mistakes back then.”
“Yet only one of us was left at the altar.”
“You left me little choice.”
Her eyes widened for a second before her right hand rose and slapped him hard across the face. The sound rang out in the night.
“I did nothing to deserve being left like that,” she said.
Except plan to marry him for name only.
Working his jaw back and forth, wishing it didn’t sting like a mother, he shifted his shoes into his right hand, preparing to use his left to catch any additional hits if they came. He may let her get away with that one, but it would be the only one. “That make you feel better?” he asked.
“It didn’t make me feel worse.”
“Then how about this?” He clamped his arm around her waist and jerked her body to his, lowering his mouth to hers before she could utter a complaint.
And he nearly lost his mind in the taste of her.
He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but he also couldn’t say the idea hadn’t played out in his fantasies over the last twelve hours, either. Nor over the last six months.
Kissing Andie once more was worth the frustration of having to see her again and know she wasn’t his.
When she didn’t immediately push him away, he loosened his stance and took the kiss deeper, groaning when she opened her mouth and let him in. She softened against him and made little noises that dragged way too many memories from the trenches of his mind. They had never had a problem with this.
Her tongue stroked his, and he dropped the shoes he was holding to bring both hands up to grip the sides of her face, devouring her. God, he’d missed this.
He’d missed her.
It was his Andie, in his arms again. Kissing him as wildly as she ever had.
And then kneeing him in the crotch.
He bent over at the waist, coughing and clutching at his balls. “Dammit!” The woman had landed a direct hit. “Sonofabitch,” he growled out. “Did you have to do that?”
Shit. He was going to lose his dinner.
“Seemed like the thing to do at the moment,” she answered, her voice strangely flat. “I was feeling attacked.”
He turned his back to her, fighting the urge to puke and trying to ignore the whistling that rushed through his head. His eyes watered like a baby’s. He supposed he might have deserved that. If it had been anyone else grabbing and kissing her without invitation, he would have encouraged the move. But the knowledge certainly didn’t make the throbbing any less.
When he could finally pull in enough air to breathe without making a panting sound, he slowly straightened and turned back to her, his chest rising and falling with the adrenaline now coursing through him. The moonlight was showcasing Andie’s face once more, and he could make out the concern for him in her eyes, even though her body language read differently.
She stood there with his shoes, one in each hand, hands locked at her waist. “Are you about finished?”
He looked skyward as if something there would help make her understand. “You kneed me in the balls, Andie. Did you think it wouldn’t hurt?”
And stupidly, he wanted to kiss her again.
“I’d hoped it would hurt. A lot. But to tell you the truth, I’ve never done that before. Didn’t know if I did it hard enough or not.”
“You did it just fine, sweetheart.” He would laugh if he could. Instead, he took a step closer, only to watch her take one away. So he stopped and held up his hands. “Fine. I won’t touch you again.” He paused, unsure why he wanted to push her buttons instead of simply give her the apology he’d come to deliver. “If you’ll admit you liked it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Of course I didn’t like it. I was faking it, you idiot. Softening you up before I backed you off.”
“And you did a good job of the backing off part, but I also caught a little moan of pleasure in there. It didn’t sound fake, Andie.”
“Well, it was.”
He took that step closer. “Prove it.”
This time her chin came up, but she didn’t mov
e away. “I will do no such thing. Didn’t you come here to give me some sort of lame apology or something?”
“That was before you attempted to make me infertile.” One more step and he was back within touching distance.
They stood there staring at each other, and he watched her thoughts run through her eyes. She was as intrigued as he by the chemistry still between them, yet she wasn’t ready to give in to it. She was also still furious with him. And he could see the hurt. It was hiding way in the back, but it was there. Which put his testosterone level back where it belonged and reminded him that yes, he had come to apologize for his past behavior.
He held out his hands in a sign of surrender and eased back out of her space. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tonight isn’t the time or place to explore what’s still there between us. Hand over my shoes, and I’ll give you your apology.”
Her hands came off her waist to pass over the shoes, but then she stopped, her head tilting at an angle to study him. She shot him a look; the same one that had first captured his attention at Harvard. It was half mischievous, and a lot bold. And it made his blood once again begin to heat.
Before he could figure out what it meant, she’d whirled and sent one of his thousand dollar Italian loafers out into the rolling waves.
“What are you doing?” he shouted. He took off after the shoe, splashing into the water, but the wave quickly rose to his knees, almost pulling him down in the shifting sand. He turned back to her. The water lapped at her ankles now, but she didn’t move away from it. “What in the world, Andie?”
She merely shrugged. “Figured it would serve you right for kissing me.”
“The knee to the groin was punishment for kissing you.” He continued walking through the now receding water, dragging his feet around, hoping to find his shoe.
“No, the knee to the groin was for embarrassing me in front of both of our families four years ago.”
He looked back at her, his shoe forgotten, aware of how she’d stated the facts. “Not for hurting you, then? Just for the embarrassment?”
That thought disturbed him more than it should have after all this time. He’d wanted to believe that she had really loved him, even though evidence had suggested otherwise.
