Ex on the Beach

by Kim Law

  Ginger sucked in a little fake gasp. “You’re going to do it again, aren’t you?”

  Andie shrugged, because yes, she’d like to, but then she forced herself to admit the truth. She shook her head and sighed, feeling her shoulders droop. “No, actually, I’m not. He’ll be leaving, so-o—”

  She stopped as she caught sight of Mark leading Rob over to the far side of the boat. Alone.

  She had to hear that conversation.

  Thankful the boat wasn’t filled to capacity, so there was plenty of room for a private conversation, Mark pulled Rob off to the side, determined to get the shit part of the day over. It was possible — likely — that when they’d finished talking, Rob would demand to go back immediately. Which would put everyone dealing with seasickness all morning for no good reason.

  Mark should have had the conversation before they’d even pulled away. But Phillip Jordan had seemed to be constantly underfoot back at the dock. And then Mark had seen that Andie was going with them. And he’d selfishly wanted a chance to have some time with her.

  But he couldn’t put the conversation off any longer. It was tearing both him and Andie up, and they had more important matters to discuss.

  Like the fact that she cared for him, too.

  He knew she did. He’d read it clearly on her face only moments before.

  He just had no idea how to get her to admit it, or do anything about it.

  Or if they even needed to do anything about it. They had spectacularly crashed and burned once upon a time. Why should he think they’d be any different this time?

  “It’s been too long since we’ve done anything like this, bro,” Rob pointed out as they made their way along the side of the boat, their rods pointed toward the blue sky as they went. There were metal holders attached to the railing of the boat every few feet so they could move around, repositioning their rods throughout the day. So far, no one but the two of them had made it to the section where they now stood.

  “Too long,” Mark agreed, though deep down he felt it probably hadn’t been long enough. Which was not a good thing for the best man to be thinking. “What? Three years?”

  Three years ago the two of them, along with several other buddies from Harvard, had taken a long weekend trip to the Caribbean. It had been a bachelor party for one of the guys. Rob had partied hard and hooked up with several women that weekend, while Mark had wondered when he’d gone off and grown up without his buddy.

  “At least,” Rob agreed. “We should make it a yearly thing.”

  Mark didn’t answer. He suspected that after their conversation today, Rob might not want anything to do with him for a while.

  Movement from his right caught Mark’s attention, and he realized that someone had entered the cabin and was sitting practically behind them, just inside the window.

  He began to move farther down the boat, before recognizing the someone was Andie.

  She was eavesdropping.

  The knowledge should have annoyed him, but given the guilt he felt for what he was about to do, he would let her listen in. She needed to understand that some things simply could not be changed.

  Rob put his rod down and kicked back, leaning against the wall of the boat directly in front of where Andie sat. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shorts pocket, and held it out to Mark.

  “No, thanks.” Mark hadn’t smoked a cigarette since he and Rob had been teenagers, trying to act cool. “And I can’t believe you’re still doing that. Those things are nasty.”

  “Yeah, but Penelope isn’t here. She gets all bitchy if I smoke around her, so I take the opportunity when I get one.”

  Mark set up his pole and dropped his line into the water, wishing he didn’t have to be the one doing this. “Phillip doesn’t get on your case about it, then?”

  He’d watched Rob’s future father-in-law today, and the man kept an eye on Rob, that was for sure. Probably making sure his would-be state’s attorney prodigy didn’t do anything to embarrass the family.

  “I do what I want.”

  “Except when Penelope is watching.”

  Rob tipped his hand in a touché signal as he blew out a steady stream of smoke. Before he took another drag, he gave Mark a look. “So what’s up?”

  It had been too many years since the two of them had held a serious conversation. The idea of doing so now suddenly didn’t sit well with Mark. But it wasn’t as if he could back out. Facts were still facts. Might as well put it out there and get it out of the way.

  “Your fiancée and future father-in-law are setting you up.”

  Rob’s posture went momentarily stiff before he puffed once more on the cigarette and then tossed it into the ocean. He straightened from his relaxed position and slowly exhaled, letting the thin stream of white smoke drift out to sea with the butt.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Mark glanced around to make sure no one — except Andie — was within hearing distance, then explained what he’d overheard.

  “So it seems,” Mark finished up, “Phillip has plans for you, and Penelope is going along with them.”

  Another cigarette appeared between Rob’s fingers. “And you feel this is bad because?”

  It was all Mark could do not to let his mouth hang open. “Because you’re a defense attorney and have always wanted to be one.”

  “Sometimes people change.”

  “So you’re telling me you knew about this?”

  “I didn’t know, but I had my suspicions.”

  “Then you’re okay with it?”

  Rob lifted a shoulder and gave the shit-eating grin he’d been using since elementary school. It didn’t make Mark any more comfortable now than it had twenty years ago.

  “It’s one less thing I have to orchestrate,” Rob finally replied.

  Mark dropped back against the boat, stunned. “One less thing you have to …” He stared at Rob. “Orchestrate?”

  “Yeah. Far less work for me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Rob took another puff and looked around as Mark had done, stopping when his gaze landed at the front of the boat. Mark turned his head to find Phillip watching them.

  “You don’t think I’m marrying her for love, do you?” Rob’s tone was derisive.

  “Actually, I had assumed so, yes.”

  Rob flicked the second cigarette into the ocean. “I’m not a pansy, Mark. I have plans. I’m acting on them.”

  “I thought your plans focused on the firm where you are. Where you’ve made partner.”

  “And now my plans are on being a state’s attorney.” Rob focused his flat gray eyes on him. “Next, a US attorney. Hell, maybe someday I’ll shoot for Supreme Court justice. I have the world, man. Do you know how far the Jordan name can get me? They aren’t only well-respected in Chicago, you know.”

  Wow. The facts suddenly hit Mark in the face like a bucket of ice water. His best friend — the guy he’d always thought to be his best friend — was a complete jerk. Which suddenly made Mark wonder if they’d ever really been friends at all.

  The Kavanaugh name was far bigger than Masterson in Boston. Maybe Rob had only liked him for that.

  And Mark’s father had pulled some strings to get Rob his Chicago job.

  Mark suddenly felt sick, and it had nothing at all to do with the waves. He stepped to the side of the boat, certain he would be the next one to lose his breakfast, and heard Rob laughing beside him.

  The sound echoed in his ears as if it were being piped in from a long tunnel, and Mark fought the urge to turn and punch Rob in the face, certain in the knowledge that their friendship had never been more than a means to an end.

  It was the elder Kavanaugh and elder Masterson who had been true friends all these years. They were the ones who’d held Mark and Rob together.

  “Son of a bitch,” Mark muttered, glad when his stomach settled back down. “You’re nothing but a complete ass.”

  Rob scratched the side of his
chin and shot Mark a condemning look. “And you need to grow a pair. Quit playing with the help.” Rob motioned toward the front of the boat as if Andie was still where Mark had left her. “You shouldn’t have ever let Beth get away. She had the name and the prestige.”

  Mark saw red.

  “Just because you can’t get over killing your girlfriend all those years ago—”

  Mark’s fist jerked through the air to land on Rob’s jaw before Mark was even aware he was moving. Rob went down hard. His shocked eyes stared up at Mark as other noises began to penetrate. People were hurrying to where they stood — to where Mark stood and Rob lay — with Phillip Jordan leading the pack.

  Mark jabbed a finger at Rob. “You keep that out of it,” he growled. “That has nothing to do with you being a bottom feeder.”

  He quickly reeled in his line and grabbed his pole, determined to leave Rob on the ground for someone else to clean up, then turned in the opposite direction.

  As if in slow motion, he saw Andie running toward him. Gray and Ginger and several of the others were crowding behind her, pushing and trying to see around her. Then Andie was lifting her hands up in the air as if to shield her face.

  The hook from his line swung out, making a perfect arc toward the outer palm of one of her hands. Mark was powerless to stop it, though he did reach out, trying desperately to catch the glittering object before it hooked her.

  He missed.

  The next thing he knew, Andie stood before him, her mouth agape, with the tip of his hook stuck in the flesh of her hand. Ginger gawked at the hook, and Phillip Jordan harshly shouted something from the other side of Rob.

  Mark looked back to where Rob still lay on the ground. The bag of hot air wouldn’t say anything else about Mark’s past, he was sure of that. To do so would invite Mark to share what he’d just learned.

  With a slight nod to Rob, as if to signal that they understood each other, he shoved his rod in Ginger’s hand and took Andie by the wrist to lead her away, brushing Ginger off when she offered to take care of Andie.

  “I’ve got it.” His tone left no room for argument.

  Andie couldn’t stop gaping at her hand as Mark dragged her away, assuring Ginger as they went that he was taking care of her. The hook wasn’t in deep, and it didn’t even hurt too much. The worst were the words rolling over and over in Andie’s head.

  “You can’t get over killing your girlfriend.”

  “You can’t get over killing your girlfriend.”

  What in the world did that mean?

  And Rob was using the Jordans just like they were using him? Maybe more so?

  Everything was crowding her brain so quickly that she almost missed the tortured look on Mark’s face every time he glanced at her hand.

  “It’s not that bad—”

  “I put a damn hook in your hand,” he snarled. “It’s bad.”

  He pulled her around the corner and into the cabin, then shoved her into the small restroom, following her in and slamming the door behind them. He picked her up and set her on the tiny sink, then took her hand gently in his.

  The world was suddenly shut out, and it was just the two of them in the cramped compartment, Mark looking as if he’d just driven a car over her — twice — and Andie realizing what one very important part of all the drama meant.

  The wedding was not being called off.

  She wasn’t going to lose Aunt Ginny’s house.

  But what did the rest of it mean? She swallowed against the lump in her throat and peered up at Mark. He was carefully poking at the skin around the hook, cringing each time he did.

  “Mark,” she breathed out his name, fear skating down her spine.

  His stony face looked up at her in question.

  “What did Rob mean?”

  An eyebrow arched high. “That he’s an arrogant jerk who’s done nothing but use everyone he’s come into contact with his whole life?”

  He grabbed the first-aid kit from the shelf above the small mirror and set it in Andie’s lap as he pawed through it.

  “No, about…” She paused at the sight of Mark’s jaw growing even more tense. “Something about a girlfriend,” she finished softly.

  “It was nothing.” He shook his head, then mumbled, “I was a teenager. I wasn’t even in the car with her.”

  “So somebody did die?”

  He ripped open an alcohol pad and some gauze, and as he did, he made the slightest motion with his head. It was a nod. Andie’s chest ached for him. What could have happened? And why had she never known about this? Seems she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been good with sharing information in the past.

  “You never told me,” she whispered.

  He stared into her eyes, his face a mask, and she felt a quick tug against her palm. They both glanced down at the hook, now in his hand, and the small bubble of blood coming from her skin. He wiped the spot with the alcohol pad.

  “Mark?” She was still whispering, suddenly aware that the space was small and they could easily be heard by someone outside the room.

  “What?”

  “You never told me,” she repeated.

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “We were engaged.”

  Acceptance clouded his gaze when he finally looked back up at her. He knew he’d intentionally kept it from her. Just as she knew.

  “Is that why you have issues with getting married?” she asked.

  “What are you talking about? I don’t have issues.”

  So many things were suddenly clear. She had no idea what had happened when he was a teen, but whatever it was had impacted his every move since. “You made up reasons to dump me. At the very last second.”

  “You were using me.”

  “I was not, and you know it. You knew it then, too. I loved you. I used your name because I was desperate in that moment, but I loved you, and there’s no way you didn’t believe that with every fiber of your being. You were looking for an excuse to walk away, had been for months. And sending Rob to the church kept you from seeing how your decision would hurt me. It allowed you to not risk changing your mind and going through with it.”

  He didn’t deny it, but he looked almost as shocked as she was to hear it.

  “What happened with Beth?” she asked. “Did you do something lame so she would dump you? So you wouldn’t have to do to her what you did to me?”

  Mark’s mouth snapped closed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t even love her like I did —”

  He bit off his words, seeming to realize what he’d just said. He hadn’t loved Beth like he’d loved her. Her throat threatened to close up.

  “I know you’re afraid,” she whispered. “You’re so afraid, you were just trying to break up someone else’s wedding.”

  “I was trying to help him,” he growled.

  “Then planning to run back to Boston as fast as you could so you didn’t risk getting involved with me again.”

  Her hand was now patched up, and she could see Mark growing more irritated by the second. He snapped the first-aid kit closed and shoved it back on the shelf above her, then leaned in so close that his face was directly in front of hers, mere inches separating them. His hot breath bathed her skin. “I’m not the one running from it. I offered to stay.”

  “For a few days.”

  “Did you want me to stay longer? Hell, did you want to go back with me?”

  The words froze both of them. How had they gotten to arguing over his leaving? Which he wouldn’t be doing now since the wedding wasn’t canceled. Unless he decided to skip out on the wedding altogether. He had just punched Rob in the face.

  But what she wanted to know was when she’d begun thinking that Mark was leaving her instead of risking getting involved with her again.

  Getting involved with him wasn’t what she wanted.

  She had a business to run. On the island.

  She didn’t want to go to Boston.

  “Andie,” he said, the
anger in his voice diminished. “Did you want more?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “We can’t be more. We’re just …” She brought one hand up but had nowhere to put it. She rested it on his chest, lowering her gaze to watch as she touched him. He was so big and strong. “It was just the one time.”

  “Except now I’m not leaving yet.”

  Her gaze slowly lifted to his. He wasn’t leaving. Her throat went dry. “What does that—”

  A knock sounded on the door, startling both of them, and Mark pulled slightly away.

  “What?” he asked, his voice falsely calm.

  “I just wanted to check on Andie.” It was Ginger. Her voice came out both hesitantly questioning and determined to make sure her friend was okay.

  Mark reached behind him and flipped the lock, the click clear from both sides of the door. “Andie is fine. Give us a minute.”

  Uh-oh.

  Andie swallowed, trying to bring saliva back into her mouth. The look on Mark’s face was no longer anger.

  Heat focused on her. “I’m not leaving yet,” he repeated, his intent clear.

  “We can’t, Mark.” She shook her head as she whispered the words but couldn’t help the grin that suddenly covered her face. She wiggled slightly on the edge of the sink, her skin bursting with expectation. He wasn’t leaving today. They had at least until the wedding.

  He gripped the backs of her knees and tugged her a slow inch closer. “We could …” he suggested.

  She bit her lip and looked around the compact space, her entire body blazing at the idea of the two of them being in there together. Not seeing to her injured hand.

  “We shouldn’t,” she stressed. “Anybody could hear us — Rob, Mr. Jordan, Ginger.”

  Her voice had grown quieter the more she talked. Was she really thinking about doing it on the boat with everyone there?

  Mark didn’t seem to see it as a question. His mouth quirked up on one side, then he put his lips to her ear and whispered, “Then we’ll have to be very, very quiet.”

  EPISODE SEVEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN