On the Rocks (A Turtle Island Novel)

by Kim Law

  The words came out as a question, not an answer. “So change it later,” he suggested. “It’s your house; you can do whatever you want with it. Whenever you want.”

  “I know.” She glanced quickly at him. “But it’s not just that.”

  “Then what else?”

  When she looked away again, he said her name, and she brought her gaze back to his.

  Several breaths later, she uttered a reply. “I didn’t want to have to move in here alone.” The words were spoken softly, and he heard the vulnerability in them. And he suddenly got it.

  This house . . . at this moment . . . was important. It was “the house.” He understood that, because he’d just built his own. This house needed to be right. It signified an importance in her life. Her next step.

  He thought about the BMW. The fact she’d said she was “moving on with her life.”

  She’d been waiting for a husband to help make the decisions on this house. He’d done the same thing. Decisions about his own had been made with Lisa—or with Lisa in mind. Having her be a part of it had been vital to him.

  “Moving forward doesn’t mean what you want is out of reach,” he found himself telling her—as if he were an expert on the subject. “It just means that you’ve moved forward.”

  And it probably wouldn’t hurt him to take a step or two in the same direction.

  “But what if there’s no going back?” she asked. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. What if I move forward and everything else I want gets left behind?”

  The slightness of her voice made him want to pull her into his arms.

  “Then you find new wants.”

  She stared at him, seconds ticking away before she spoke again. “And what if I don’t like what I find?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that, because he didn’t like what he’d found.

  His life was not where it was supposed to be, and he couldn’t shake his anger about it. He was drinking, smoking, and basically hating anything and everything in his world, and that wasn’t a way he’d ever imagined spending his years.

  “I’ll help you,” he said, and her eyes widened slightly.

  “With what?”

  “The house. I know some people. They owe me a few favors. And besides, I already have a crew heading to town for my parents’ home. I’ll make another call.”

  She tilted her head as she watched him. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t really know. They weren’t exactly friends these days. They hadn’t seen each other in years. Yet he sensed that like him, she often felt as if she’d been tossed in the middle of the ocean in a sailboat with a broken sail. And a shark had eaten the oars. It was a closeness he remembered having with her from years past. As if they were “one” in some unfathomable way.

  “Because I can” was all he said in reply. He didn’t have a better answer.

  Her brain finally seemed to click into gear, and she nodded. Slowly at first, then her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and her eyes took on a glow. “Do you think it would be possible to get it done before the wedding?”

  “Six weeks?” He stared at the house that sat before them, and knew he wanted to make that work for her. He’d have to call in more than one favor. And they’d need a lot of people out here. But he’d pull those strings. It would feel good to do so. “We can if you get busy making decisions.”

  Her head nodded rapidly. “I will. I swear.”

  A smile broke across her face then, and damned if he didn’t have to focus to keep from doing the same.

  “Thank you,” she gushed. “I owe you. Big-time.”

  The rush of gratitude that came from her gave him the first real feeling of living in months. He was happy to do this for her, but he also wondered if he wasn’t, in a way, doing it for himself.

  Did her happiness somehow imply that he could someday be happy again, too?

  He found that he hoped so. Because this anger thing was beginning to wear thin.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I’m telling you, it’s a lot of men.” Ginger bit her lip as she leaned forward and peeked out the kitchen window once again. She’d been doing that on and off for over an hour. “And all hot.” She breathed the words into her phone, following them with a very girlish giggle. “And all right. Next. Door.”

  The sight of the men who’d shown up at the Ridley house that afternoon made her wonder what kind of crew Carter would send out to her house. Because dang. If they looked anything like this, she might have to take the next six weeks off from work just so she could hang around and watch.

  “What are they doing now?” Andie said in her ear.

  Ginger watched the cutest two, both dark haired, tall, terribly masculine, and very nicely filled out, as they hauled a chunk of the upper cabinets out to the temporary Dumpster that had also shown up that day. “Stripping off their shirts,” she fibbed.

  “Ohmygod.”

  She smiled. They might not be literally stripping, but in her mind they certainly were. What a way to cap off an otherwise boring Monday.

  “I’m calling a babysitter and catching the next flight down.”

  Ginger laughed. “Who do you think you’re kidding? You’ve got the man of your dreams already. Right there in your bed every night. Not to mention, you also have his baby.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to catch this show. At least send me a picture.”

  “Good idea. Hang on.”

  Ginger took a quick moment, holding her phone out in front of her while at the same time still eyeing every move made by the men next door. There had to be at least eight guys in that one small space. She wondered if some of them would end up at her house.

  She zoomed in closer and snapped the picture as yet another dark-haired cutie walked out the front door, but this one looked directly at her. It was Carter.

  “Crap.” She dropped out of view, squatting in front of the oversized farm sink.

  “What happened?” Andie asked. “Did you get the picture?”

  “I got caught,” she muttered. She banged her forehead against the sink cabinet.

  “Oh no.”

  “By Carter.”

  “Oh . . .” Andie chuckled in her ear. “Oops.”

  Ginger could picture her friend smiling. They’d already talked about the fact that Carter was home for the next few weeks and that he’d offered to help with the house. And Andie had teased her over the long-ago crush she’d had on him. Ginger had even admitted that they’d watched the sunrise together yesterday morning. Though it had been a friends-catching-up kind of moment, and not anything romantic.

  Still, it had been nice.

  But he hadn’t shown up out there this morning.

  “Ginger,” Andie whispered, as if she were the one hiding below the sink. “What’s happening now?”

  “I don’t know. I’m on the floor.” She put her back to the cabinet and settled in, butt on the porcelain tile, legs crossed over each other. No way would she stand back up and look out now.

  “At least send me the picture,” Andie said.

  “Oh, yeah.” She’d forgotten about that.

  Without hanging up, she pulled up the photos on her phone, chose the one she’d just taken—which had Carter front and center staring straight at her—and texted it over to Andie.

  “I got it,” Andie said. There was a pause, then Andie hummed under her breath.

  “What?”

  “He’s cute.”

  Ginger put her phone on speaker and pulled the picture back up. “Ignore Carter. Look at the men in the background. Those are the ones I’ve been drooling over. They’re a little young, but super yummy.”

  More soft humming could be heard before Andie added, “And you’re saying you haven’t been drooling over Carter? He grew up nice.”

  “Carter was always nice. Why do you think I had the hots for him my whole childhood?”

  She studied the
picture in more detail, and admitted that yeah, he could hold his own with all those other men. In fact, he stood out a little from the rest. There was a strong presence about him.

  “Maybe you should go for it with him,” Andie suggested. “Or is he still married?”

  “I have no idea. There isn’t a wife here . . .” She wished she’d asked him about his marriage while they’d been at her house, but it hadn’t seemed the right time. “And anyway, even if he’s not, the man was drinking a beer before the sun came up yesterday morning. And smoking.” She made a face. “Not to mention the bad attitude he seems to wear around like a favorite pair of jeans. He’s not the Carter he once was.”

  Not that she’d go for him even if he was the same as he’d been before. He’d never seen her as anything more than a friend when they were kids, and there was no reason to believe that would be any different now. She wouldn’t humiliate herself thinking she could get him.

  “I could go for one of those construction guys, though,” she said.

  “That you could. Look at the one by the Dumpster with the dimpled chin. Yummmm.”

  “Right? He was outside when I got in from work. I looked at him . . . he looked at me . . .” Then he’d gone back into the house, but Ginger didn’t let that faze her. He’d noticed her. They’d smiled. It had been a moment.

  “Hey, wait. No one has their shirts off!” Andie sounded offended in her outburst, and Ginger couldn’t help but giggle. Man, she missed her friends living close by. If Andie were still on the island, she’d be sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor with Ginger right now. Roni would be there, too.

  But at least she had this.

  She and Andie had talked over the weekend, with Ginger providing details of her mother’s upcoming nuptials—and garnering a promise that Andie would make it down for the event—but Ginger had chosen not to express the jealousy she’d been struggling with concerning the wedding. It was a petty emotion, and she was mostly over it. Plus, she was focused on her house now.

  And soon she’d have her house done . . . and maybe someday a man . . .

  “So what’s he like?” Andie asked. “Other than drinking and smoking.”

  “Carter?”

  The phone was still on speaker, since she was alone in the house. It freed up her hands to finger wave at Mz. Lizzie when she poked her head around the corner of the door. Mz. Lizzie looked the other way.

  “I don’t know.” Ginger eyed the cat suspiciously, and patted the floor. Just once she’d like it if the cat acknowledged her existence. “He seems . . . sad, I guess. And lonely. He doesn’t talk a lot, and I haven’t seen him smile at all.”

  “Kids?”

  Ginger blew out a breath. “I really don’t know more than that, Andie. I know he’s here to check on Julie because his mom asked him to, and that he’s staying until the Ridleys get home in a few weeks.”

  “Awww . . . he came because his mom asked him to?”

  Ginger ignored the swoony tone Andie had taken. “Julie’s been here alone all summer. He should have come home weeks ago.” Or years ago, to visit his parents.

  “But at least he’s there now.”

  “Sure. At least he’s here now.” And Ginger wouldn’t admit it, but he’d been on her mind all day. She couldn’t keep from wondering what had happened to him. He was so different from before. Did it have to do with whatever had happened four months ago?

  I’m better now than I’ve been in four months.

  Her heart pounded with the memory, same as it had when he’d said it. Did whatever happened four months ago have anything to do with his wife? Ex-wife?

  Or was something totally different the problem?

  “I have some news,” Andie said, pulling Ginger from her thoughts of Carter.

  Ginger quit trying to attract the cat. “Good or bad?”

  “Good.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re already pregnant again.”

  Andie snorted. “No. This kid has kicked my butt. Another one can wait.”

  “Okay, then lay it on me.”

  “I’ll be down there next weekend,” Andie casually said. “On Saturday. As will Roni.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Ginger shot to her feet, causing Mz. Lizzie to launch herself down the hallway. “Why?”

  As if it mattered. She was thrilled anytime she got to see her friends.

  “Kayla worked it out, and Roni’s adding one last concert to the tour. It’ll be on Turtle Island.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Even though she played at the convention center earlier in the summer, since the show sold out so quickly, Kayla’s been working with Roni’s manager to add another stop on the tour. They made it happen yesterday. So it looks like we get a girls’ night even before your mother’s wedding.”

  Gratitude filled Ginger’s chest. Whether there was a man by her side or not, her life was good. She had the best friends a girl could want.

  “Girls’ night.” She nodded, and darned if tears didn’t fill her eyes. She needed a girls’ night so badly. “My house won’t be ready yet, but let’s do it out there anyway. Carter said the electricity and plumbing would go in fast, and everything else we can wing.”

  “That’s just what I was thinking. I need to see this house.”

  “You do.” Ginger nodded again, and turned to face the window. Carter was no longer outside, but there were still several men coming and going. And one did have his shirt off now. He was quite sweaty. She smiled at the sight.

  “I also need to see Carter in person,” Andie added.

  “Why?”

  “Duh, Ginger. You had it bad for that man. Are you seriously telling me that’s truly all gone?”

  Ginger stared down at the phone in her hand. “I had a teenage crush.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But nothing. It was a crush. There’s nothing now.”

  “But I’ll bet there could be.”

  Her friend had lost her mind.

  “Just find out if he’s married,” Andie insisted.

  “Why?”

  A sigh sounded so loudly through the phone that it seemed to fill the room. “Because you won’t know if you can jump his bones until you know.”

  “I have no intention of ‘jumping his bones.’”

  “Keep an open mind. You never know.”

  Ginger shook her head. She knew. Not only was Carter not interested in her, but she wasn’t interested in him. He clearly had too much baggage. His construction crew, on the other hand . . .

  She took one more peek outside—she really had to find an excuse to go over there—then turned from the window and slumped back against the sink. And that’s when she realized that she was no longer alone in the room. Carter stood with one foot inside the kitchen, just on this side of the laundry-room door.

  Her heart thundered in her chest, and she jerked her gaze to the phone. What had he heard?

  “I have to go,” she said quickly. She jabbed at the screen, hanging up on Andie before hearing whatever her friend might have said next. Then she stood there, eyes wide as she stared at Carter, pretending she hadn’t just been talking about jumping his bones.

  “You had a crush on me?” he asked. He seemed as confused as she was mortified.

  Without looking in a mirror, she knew she’d turned bright red. It was the curse of her fair skin. “No,” she said the word adamantly, but when he continued staring at her, she corrected to “Maybe. A little. But it was a long time ago. Before high school, even.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You weren’t supposed to know.” Good grief. “It’s no big deal. Really. You were cute. I was right next door. Of course I had a crush.”

  She didn’t point out that she’d been right next door, too, but he had not had a crush.

  But then, she’d been pudgy and even weirder around guys than she was now. And she’d never been naturally girly. No wonder he hadn’t been interested.

  She crossed her arms, lo
osely gripping her elbows, and when he continued doing nothing but training those hazel eyes on her, she gave him a bored look to cover her embarrassment. “Did you want something? Or did you just come over to see if the back door was unlocked?”

  He looked at her phone for a second—where she still gripped it in her hand. Which was now at chest level. A tiny wrinkle formed on his brow before he finally brought his gaze back to hers. She felt an involuntary flutter inside her chest when their eyes met.

  “Sorry,” he finally grunted out. He motioned to the back door. “I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear.”

  He looked at her phone once again, and with his eyes trained in the general area of her chest, her nipples woke up. She felt them tighten behind her T-shirt as if vying for his attention. She ignored this fact and gave him a pointed look. He cleared his throat, and his vision locked on her face. Only her face. Clearly, he’d noticed her reaction.

  Great.

  “I came to see if you’d be available to meet with my foreman out at the house tomorrow,” Carter finally said. “He’s heading up the team next door, but will manage the work at your house, as well.”

  One of the guys from next door would be working on her house?

  Without thinking, she turned to look out the window. Which one? The one with the dimple?

  “None of those guys are right for you,” he said. His voice was gruff and snarly.

  “What?” She turned back to him.

  “I see the look on your face, and I remember what you were like. All romantic and stuff. Get it out of your head. None of them are what you’re looking for.”

  “How do you know what I’m looking for?” Her entire body heated. How much more embarrassment could she take today?

  “You’re looking just to get laid, then?” he asked.

  The temperature of her face went nuclear.

  “I didn’t think so.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and as if the action had called out to Mz. Lizzie, the darned cat came running, trotting right up to his leg. She edged against the dusty denim and rubbed herself all over him like the little harlot that she was.

  Ginger narrowed her eyes at the cat, but Carter didn’t seem to notice the animal at all.