Maybe We Will (Silver Harbor)

by Melissa Foster

  Abby licked blueberry off the edge of the Danish and took a bite. Pleasure rose in her eyes, stirring a wave of awareness within him, awakening Aiden the man. His mind took a turn down a different road, wanting to see a different type of pleasure in her eyes.

  To distract himself from the lust simmering inside him, he said, “It sounds like your parents were wonderful together.”

  “They were, and I know my father sounds intrusive. But he wasn’t.” Oblivious to the sinful thoughts she’d sparked, she ate another bite of her Danish and said, “Mm. So, so good.”

  God, this woman . . .

  “It’s hard to put into words what it was like to be around my father,” she said. “It was like he sprinkled magic everywhere he went. I thought all restauranteurs were like him. But I learned the truth years later, when I left the island, went to culinary school, and became a chef. After working in restaurants in New York City for a few years, I realized life in the kitchen was pretty bleak and stressful.”

  “Then why keep the Bistro?”

  Her gaze moved around them, as if she were making sure no one else would hear her answer, and said, “Because I’m convinced the restaurant still has a bit of my father’s magic in it, and I want to bring it back to life. I think this might be my destiny. After my mom died, I took a long, hard look at my life, and I realized I wasn’t happy. So I quit my job, even though I had absolutely no idea what my next move would be. I mean, I knew the restaurant would be ours, but I wasn’t completely sure I’d want to run it until yesterday, when I jogged over that hill and saw it. Then I knew it was meant to be.” She sighed and relaxed into the chair.

  Abby was starry-eyed with her talk of magic and romanticizing her situation. While her dreaminess was appealing, Aiden had seen this a hundred times in business, and it almost always led to bad decisions that cost people everything they had. He heard the warnings in his head, but even though the businessman in him thought quitting her job without a plan was completely irresponsible, there was something so appealing about this woman who believed in herself enough to take that big a chance, he wanted to cheer her on.

  “But yesterday we also found out that we have a half sister named Cait who lives on Cape Cod,” Abby said lightly. “And it turns out that our mother left the restaurant and the house to the three of us in equal shares.”

  Aiden looked for hints of anger or resentment, but Abby’s eyes were clear, and there were no tension lines anywhere on her beautiful face. Surprised, he said, “It sounds like your situation is no longer as cut-and-dried as you’d thought. Shouldn’t you be running today? That sounds pretty stressful.”

  “I know, right?” She took a big bite of her croissant, her smiling eyes watching him as she ate. “I should be super stressed, but when I met Cait, I didn’t feel freaked out. I don’t really know what I felt. Excited to have another sister and sad for having never known her, of course, and a bit worried because Deirdra and I are a lot to take in. What if she doesn’t like us? What if we don’t like her? Honestly, I know we’ll like her, or at least I will, because I already do. I mean, she’s our sister and that’s huge.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone not liking you, but I have to ask a big question that’s none of my business. Have you verified this through DNA?”

  “You sound like Deirdra. She was skeptical, too, but our mother provided documents that verify everything.”

  “You should make sure it’s all valid.”

  “Deirdra read through them last night, and it all appears to be in order. So now there’s Cait to think about. And believe me, she was just as shell-shocked yesterday as we were. But at least Deirdra and I have had time to adjust to our mother being gone. Cait has not only just learned who her birth mother was, that she has two sisters, and that she’s now the proud owner of one-third of this property and the house, but also that her mother is gone. She can never ask the questions I’m sure she has. I don’t know what Cait wants to do about any of this, but she’s meeting me here so we can get to know each other, and she’s got the next few days off so we can start to figure things out. And here I am, knowing you for less than an hour and airing all my dirty laundry. Way to go, Abby!” she cheered. “I’m sorry, Aiden. I guess I really needed to talk about all of this, and you’re the lucky recipient of my ramblings. Maybe you should have your running shoes on so you can take off and never look back.”

  And there it was, the difference between Abby and most of the other women he came in contact with. The others worked hard to impress him, but Abby was just being herself, and he liked that a whole hell of a lot. She was also a talker. He’d never been into talkative women, but the sound of Abby’s voice was so much sweeter than the silence he usually craved.

  “And miss the next episode of the Abigail-Deirdra-Cait Chronicles? No way. This is far more fun than anything I’ve done in a long time.” He held her gaze, heat and curiosity swirling in the space between them. He had the urge to cradle her face in his hands and press his lips to hers, to taste all that she was and all that she hoped to be.

  But just as those thoughts stirred darker ones, a blush stained her cheeks, as if she were thinking them, too. She looked out at the water, breaking their connection, and said, “Boy, I’ve missed being here.” Her eyes flicked to his. “But it’s never quite been like this.”

  They made small talk as they finished eating, and then she stood up in those sexy little shorts and said, “I should get to work. I’m sure you have a big day planned.”

  “Huge,” he said with a grin. “I’m a regular sloth on vacation.”

  “Do you want me to help you clean up or take any of this back to the person you stole it from?”

  He chuckled. “I think I can handle it. It was nice sharing breakfast with you, Not So Much of a Runner Girl.”

  She flashed that effervescent smile and said, “Right back at ya, Chair Guy.”

  Abby’s heart was going ten types of crazy as she unlocked the restaurant door. Did she really just have breakfast with that great guy? That great gorgeous guy? What alternative world had she woken up in? Her life was never this exciting. She stole one last glance at the man who had completely disarmed her from the moment she’d sat down. He was stacking their breakfast dishes. He looked up and winked, sending the butterflies in her belly into a wild flurry.

  “Thanks again,” she said, and walked inside wondering if she’d ever see him again. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her nerves as she flicked on the lights. The musty scent and the sight of chairs stacked on tables brought her mind back to the enormous task before her. She’d stocked up on cleaning supplies and had dropped them off last night. She picked up one of the buckets, and as she wove around tables, heading for the kitchen, her thoughts trickled back to Aiden and the intense way he’d listened to her rambling on about her family. He probably thought she was nuts, wanting to keep the Bistro and spilling her guts to a stranger. Although, for some reason, he didn’t feel like a stranger.

  Just outside the kitchen, she passed the cracked and weathered counter where her father used to keep the cash register and could practically hear the faint ding of the drawer opening. She pushed through the double doors, taking in the familiar stainless-steel appliances as she set the bucket in the sink. If she tried hard enough, she could still hear the clanking of dishes, the sizzle of meats searing, and the kitchen staff calling out to each other over sounds of the Eagles, the Allman Brothers, and other classic bands playing from the only station her father’s old boom box could tune in to without static. Luckily, classic rock was his favorite, and it had become Abby’s, too. The songs were hallmarks of her youth, welcome reminders of how fun work could be.

  Her phone vibrated with a text. She pulled it from her pocket and read the group message from Jules. Hottie alert! The grapevine is buzzing for all the single ladies! Mrs. S can’t stop raving about some guy named Aiden who is staying at the Silver House.

  Knowing Mrs. Silver, she’d already given him the third degree and vetted hi
m for her single daughters. Abby wasn’t going to respond and become part of the island gossip, but she liked knowing that Mrs. Silver thought enough of him to give him her stamp of approval, which wasn’t easy to achieve. With Abby’s luck, she’d never even see him again.

  She pocketed her phone, returning her attention to the grungy kitchen and her father’s boom box. Her father used to keep it on the shelf above the dishwasher, but she couldn’t see the back of the shelf, so she hoisted herself up on the counter like she had as a young girl, letting out a whoop at the sight of the dusty black boom box with the cord wrapped around one side. She set it on the counter as she climbed down and blew the dust off the top, feeling like she’d won the lottery. Glancing at the dial, she realized her mother hadn’t changed the station, which made her happy.

  She filled a bucket with water and carried the boom box and the bucket into the restaurant, shocked to find Aiden standing inside the doorway looking around with a serious expression. In his button-down shirt and loafers, he could have walked off the pages of a yachting magazine. For some reason, seeing that beautiful man standing among the dingy effects of a life gone by—a life she wanted to resurrect—made her happy. She’d noticed that he hadn’t shaved, and a dusting of scruff covered his jaw and upper lip. She’d also noticed how tempting his lips were. And now she was practically drooling.

  Schooling her expression, she said, “Aiden?”

  His face snapped in her direction as if she’d startled him. “Hey there. So this is it, huh?”

  “This is it.” She set the boom box and bucket down. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but at one time, it was . . .”

  “Your father’s dream?”

  She loved that he’d not only listened but had understood the things she hadn’t specifically said. “Exactly. He came to the States when he was twenty-five on a mission to find his future with nothing more than a backpack and a small inheritance. He met a woman named Metty at an airport who had grown up on Silver Island, and she told him all about it.”

  “Ah, he followed a beautiful woman.”

  “No, actually. Metty was on her way to Chicago, but he was enamored by her description of the island, so he changed his route, came here, and got what we locals call island fever. This building was just a rundown boathouse at the time, and he bought it for a song. But you should have seen how beautiful he made it. That glass wall behind you is made of folding glass doors. The whole wall opens up, all the way across. It’s hard to tell right now because they’re covered by the barn-style doors on the outside to protect them from getting pitted over the winter. When they’re open, the sea breeze comes into the restaurant, and there’s nothing like it. You probably haven’t ever seen anything like them before. They’re pretty rare and expensive.”

  He cocked a grin and said, “I think I know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah? It looks so different without the windows and doors open. But when I was growing up, we had three enormous imported French chandeliers that looked like they belonged in grand hotels and different types of colorful eclectic lights, like you’d see in a beach bar, all hanging from the rafters. My father called the whole lot of them lights of love. The tile floor was also imported from France. He was so proud of the lights and the tiles. He had Parisian rugs strewn around the room, and elegant café chairs. Nothing matched, but somehow it all worked together to give this place the most romantic feel. My mom sold the chandeliers and rugs when we needed money over the winters, and I guess I never realized the colorful lights eventually went, too.” She thought about how sad she’d been when her mother had sold those things and realized she’d taken over the conversation again. “Oh my gosh, Aiden, I’m so sorry. I’m doing it again, rambling like a fool. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  He lifted his hands, which held a bag from the Sweet Barista and a to-go cup. “You said Cait was coming from the Cape to meet you, so I went to grab her something in case she missed breakfast. I know how traveling can upend a schedule.”

  “That was so nice of you.” There was no hiding her shock or her appreciation. “But you didn’t have to do that. She won’t be here for a few hours.”

  “In that case, why don’t we put the Danish aside for her and you can have the coffee.” He handed her the coffee and set the bag on a table. Then he rubbed his hands together and said, “What can I do to help?”

  Holy cow, she’d never met anyone like him. “You said you have a huge day planned and that you were supposed to be relaxing.”

  “Yeah, well, I think we’ve established that I’m not great at relaxing. I grew up following my father around our old farmhouse, fixing things, tinkering, and doing odd jobs. I’m practically an expert at stripping wallpaper off the walls. I can show you how to do it and help you get the rest of this stuff cleaned up.”

  “You’re on vacation. You must have better things to do.”

  His brows lifted, and he said, “I did my time relaxing and trying not to work. But Remi has relegated me to this island for an entire month on a work-free vacation, and she swindled my assistant into handling my calls and my business partner into keeping me out of business dealings while I’m here. And if that’s not bad enough, she even gave me a list of things I have to do while I’m here. An entire list. She called it my Let Loose list.”

  Amused, she said, “Your sister sounds awesome. Maybe I should talk to her about doing that for Deirdra.”

  “I don’t advise it. Bored workaholics can be dangerous creatures. They’ve been known to hang out at pretty women’s bistros.”

  “Lucky me. Why didn’t you say no?”

  “Easier said than done with my sister, which is why I need you to please give me something to do before I lose my mind. I have three more weeks to get through.”

  “Somehow I doubt a man like you can’t find something more interesting to keep him busy.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, wondering whether he was serious. “Can I see your sister’s list?”

  He pulled out his phone, poked around on it, and handed it to her. “It’s like I’m a kindergartener, right?”

  “Aiden’s Let Loose list.” She chuckled. “What is this? It says to send proof.”

  “She wants pictures,” he said with a shake of his head.

  She scanned the list.

  Go on a bike ride

  Fly a kite

  “I haven’t flown a kite in years,” she said excitedly. “That’s so fun!”

  Spend the afternoon on the beach

  Collect shells and build a sandcastle

  Spend time in the water

  Make a friend—NOT business related

  “Oh my gosh. I love your sister. You can check off make a friend. That’s me.” She wiggled her shoulders, earning an amused and extremely sexy grin.

  Visit Fortune’s Landing lighthouse

  “She’s very specific. We have a few lighthouses on the island. I haven’t been to any of them since I was a little girl. I remember the one at Fortune’s Landing because the stairs seemed like they went on forever. I’d love to go in it again.”

  Wish upon a star

  Visit the winery

  Read a novel

  “Our friends own the winery,” she said. “That’ll be fun. And I can recommend a great novel for you to read. It’s called It Lies, and the author lives on the island. It’s super scary.”

  Aiden’s lips quirked up. “Not much scares me.”

  “We’ll see,” she said, and continued reading the list.

  Window-shop

  Eat a huge ice cream sundae

  Nap in a hammock

  Go to a bonfire

  Eat with your hands

  “Eat with your hands. Done!” She continued reading, wondering why she wasn’t doing all these things, too. It was the perfect list for a beach vacation.

  Watch the sunset

  Watch the sunrise

  Take an evening walk

  Flirt with a woman

  “I’m pretty
sure you can knock this off, too.” She pointed to flirt with a woman, and a low laugh rumbled from his lips.

  Feed a seagull

  Go skinny-dipping

  Eat dinner with new friends. NO talking business!

  Have a picnic with a friend (preferably a female)

  Go dancing

  Get your groove on. NOT your business groove!

  She looked up, catching him watching her with an amused expression.

  “Crazy, right?” he said.

  “No. I want to live by your side for the next three weeks. I love picnics, and I haven’t had one—or done most of these other things—in a really long time. I’d like to do all of them. Well, except maybe the last one, unless grooving to music is an option. Not that I don’t want to get my groove on with you, because I’d totally be into that.”

  He flashed that devastating grin, and she realized what she’d said.

  “Oh my gosh. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “That’s a shame.” He chuckled, making her laugh, too.

  “Ugh. Just . . . never mind. Forget skinny-dipping, by the way. I haven’t gone since I was a teenager, so that’s all you, big guy.”