He leaned back and nodded without answering.
“Everything okay?” Austin asked, looking at them with narrowed eyes. “You both look a little sick.” He leaned close to her ear. “You didn’t eat any shrimp, did you? We just pulled it—”
“No shrimp.” She shoved a strand of hair behind her ear, unmoving from the stool. “It’s been nice meeting you. I’ll probably see you around.”
“You will.” He slipped the sunglasses back over his eyes. “I’m sure of it.”
“Maybe I’ll stop by later this week. You can show me that reef of yours.” She had no idea why, but she wanted…well, she wanted an impossible fantasy.
“I’d like that. Lots of sea life. Sea turtles, stingrays…”
She ogled his mouth and decided he would taste exactly like saltwater, beer and sex. She swallowed the onslaught of saliva in her mouth.
“We’ll all come by for dinner, how’s that sound? I’m sure Erin and Larry will want to come, too. You can break in that new grill you bought a few weeks ago,” Austin suggested.
“Good idea.” He shrugged without looking away from her. “Later this week? After you’ve settled in?”
“Perfect. See ya, Noah.” Austin squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s get going, sis.”
She narrowed her eyes at her brother’s back as he walked toward the parking lot and hoped for some type of restaurant emergency so she’d have an excuse to stay, enjoy the sun, drink more sangria…mingle with the locals.
Noah stood with her. Proximity erupted waves of need that filled her veins like lava moving down the side of a volcano. Her legs liquefied at the idea of leaning forward…only a few inches and licking his skin. Confused by her reaction, she shook her head and backed away.
He frowned, also taking a step backward. “Lauren…”
“What?” she prompted when he hesitated.
He looked toward the path Austin had taken before shrugging. “Good luck getting into island mode. Despite all of this time, I still haven’t quite done it.”
“I knew he was lying when he said it’d only take a week.”
“Austin’s an optimist.”
“And you’re not?”
“No, I’m not.” Smile a little sad, he shrugged. “Wish I were, though.”
“Optimism usually ends with great disappointment.” She lingered, one hand on the edge of the bar, the other fidgeting in the material covering her hip.
“You should go.” He grinned with regret.
She nodded before walking toward the parking lot. Despite her inner voice that coached her to be cool, she looked over her shoulder and saw him staring at her. For the first time in months, she liked being watched.
* * * *
Damn if he wasn’t attracted to her. He scrubbed a fist across his forehead.
“I had no idea she would be so…” he struggled to find a word to describe her, “intriguing.”
“Talking to yourself again?” Erin asked from behind the bar.
“Eavesdropping again?” He reclaimed his stool.
“Is it technically eavesdropping if the conversation you’re having is one-sided?” She turned her head and watched Lauren disappear around the corner. “She seems okay, not as messed up as I thought she’d be.”
“Everyone sure had an opinion about how damaged she was, didn’t they?” Maybe he was guilty of other things, but he’d never judged her or theorized about how screwed up she’d be. Of all people, he knew how it felt to be on the other side of speculation.
Erin whistled, and her eyebrows rose. “Protective of a woman you just met? That’s interesting.”
“I just think we need to respect what she’s been through and give her the benefit of the doubt. That’s that. Don’t read into it.” He slid the empty bottle in her direction. “I should get back to my shack, as you call it.”
“Didn’t I hear something about a barbecue at your place? A certain blonde who wants to snorkel?”
“Nothing wrong with snorkeling or grilling, perfectly innocent.” He absentmindedly flipped some cash onto the bar, his mind reeling with questions and doubts.
Olive green eyes squinted at him as if seeing through his façade.
“What? I’m harmless.” He gestured wide with his hands. “You’ve known me for years. You know I’m harmless, right?”
“Sounds like you’re asking.” Erin propped her elbows on the bar. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve eaten some bad fish.”
“Has anyone been here asking about me? Anyone suspicious?” He looked around the crowded bar for anyone who might be paying too much attention to him. “Anyone overly curious about either Larry or me? Anyone who seems too...friendly maybe? Too LA?”
“No.” Erin stood up straight and looked at him as if he had just sprouted horns. “Is everything okay with you? Seriously? You look all out of sorts. Who would be asking about you? Is something going on?”
He shook off the unease. Of course no one had been here asking about him. The newspaper clippings from years ago that had showed up on his door and in his mailbox—sans envelope—were just someone’s idea of a sick joke. Nothing else. Nothing sinister.
“I’ll let Larry know that you’ll be with him on the dive tonight.” He slid the barstool into place with more attention than the action deserved. “Thanks for taking my place. I owe you one.”
He hesitated at the edge of the steps leading to the beach, stared at the curved palm tree that marked the edge of Austin’s condo complex, took a step forward, and stopped on the last stair.
For the past two years, he’d lived with a firm set of rules. Rule 1: Stay busy. Rule 2: Avoid relationships with women. Rule 3: Keep life simple. Rule 4: Confide in no one.
He sighed, turned his back on the tree, and walked to the parking lot. His inspiration—a real live muse—had landed on Grand Cayman. What to do, what to do, what to do…
Chapter Three
Austin’s condominium occupied the second floor of a white building with winding black metal steps leading to the door. One room poured into the next. Low-slung fans purred from vaulted ceilings. The oceanfront side of the condo held a screened-in deck with a hammock stretched along one end, a sofa and two lounge chairs that faced the sea. A residents’ only pool separated the two condominium buildings from the beach.
He steered her to the guest room that faced the opposite side of the slender island. The view beckoned from the floor-to-ceiling window.
“No matter where you look, there’s the ocean. Unbelievable,” she said. Trembling fingers fumbled with the zipper of her suitcase. “It’s very quiet here.”
“Missing the chaos of the big city already?” He sank into an overstuffed chair that dominated one corner of the room. “Should I look for a recording of horns honking and sirens so you can sleep at night?”
She looked him in the eye. “Why did you tell Noah about me?”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing horrible.” Clothes scattered across the bed as she busied her hands to hide the shaking. “Does he know everything?”
“Is it so important to you if he does?”
“Yes, actually, it is. I didn’t want anyone to know why I left Atlanta. I wanted to be just a tourist. Anonymous. I didn’t want anyone to know my story. Is it so terrible that I wanted to simply be your sister here on a visit instead of some victim who couldn’t handle her life anymore? I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. I’m not here on a pity party.” She watched him squirm in the chair and knew the answer. “Who else knows?”
“Noah, Larry…” Austin watched her like a scientist looking at an experiment unfolding. “Erin knows, too, but she won’t gossip. We’re dating.”
“Your manager?” She gripped the swimsuit in her hands and looked at him.
This kept getting worse. She’d wanted to fade into the background here, maybe work part-time as a bartender, do something mindless, and disappear from the spotlight.
“It’s pretty serious with Erin, sis. I wo
uld’ve told you about her sooner, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. We’ve been out of touch until…well, until your…until…that night.”
“My life’s been eating up the headlines, both personal and professional? Right. Me and my career, too busy to return personal phone calls or answer an email. Sorry.” Regret washed over her like a cool mist. “I have a lot to make up for, don’t I?”
“Stop the melodrama.” He sank deeper into the chair and grinned. “Noah’s been through a lot himself, but he doesn’t talk about it. Keeps to himself most of the time, but he’s a good guy. I told him to give you some space, but he usually does exactly as he pleases.”
“What kind of things has he been through?” She moved her suitcases from the bed to the floor of the closet. “He seems like a pretty laid back guy. I can’t imagine he’s too concerned with much of anything.”
“You’d be surprised.” Austin stood and stretched his hands behind his back. “If you want his story, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”
“Let me get this straight. You tell strangers my story, but keep their secrets from me? Something about that doesn’t seem right.” Shoving hair behind her ears, she faced him. “Why did you ask him to give me some space? Is he as much of a playboy as he looks like? Or do you think I’m too damaged to hang out with your friend?”
Austin blinked at her before bursting out in laughter. Face alive with amusement, he shook his head. “Playboy? Noah? Unless he has a secret stash of women who wander onto his property, I can assure you he’s not a playboy.”
“So it’s the other thing then?” She caught her lip between her teeth, hating that she couldn’t relax. Then again, if people would stop telling her to do that, maybe she’d figure it out for herself.
“Well...I think you need to focus on you...on us...on...whatever. Isn’t that why you’re here? To lay low, to think, to avoid complications?”
Yeah, right, sure. Avoid complications...like that could ever happen in her world. She opened another suitcase, more annoyed than ever that Austin hadn’t denied thinking she was damaged. “I should check my email, see if the realtor called about putting my house on the market—”
“That can wait. Relax, sis. Go to the pool. Nap in a hammock.” He leaned his elbows against his knees and narrowed his eyes. “Are you afraid to slow down? Is that it?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I took of leave of absence, didn’t I? I’m slowing down. I can handle checking email. It’s not that big of a deal.” She put the laptop on the bedside table.
“If you don’t want to be alone tonight, I can get someone to cover me at work. Erin’s going onboard the Angelfish, but—”
“Really. I’m fine being alone. That’s what everyone has been telling me to do…take time to be alone, to rest, to heal, to…whatever…so, yes, I’m perfectly fine at being alone.” She yanked the sundress over her head and reached for a sarong she’d packed. “See? I’ll go swimming, take a shower, read a book…perfect night alone.”
“I could call Noah…tell him you need some company.” His teasing smile returned in a flash.
“Make up your mind, a minute ago you were telling me that he’s off limits.” Hands on hips and sarong dangling from her fingertips, she faced him with a challenging grin. “Didn’t you tell him to stay away from me? Deny it.”
“I may have suggested he give you space, yes. You don’t want him to, do you?”
“I don’t care one way or the other.” She tapped her foot against the floor.
“Liar.” Still laughing, he walked toward the door. “There’s hope for you yet.”
She tossed a pillow at his head, but he ducked in time to avoid contact.
“Your aim needs work,” he mocked before jumping out the door and closing it behind him.
Finally alone, she fell back against the bed, closed her eyes, and flung her arms above her head. Unwanted memories slammed through her brain...a shadow in the hallway, a knife against her throat, blood on her hands. She pressed trembling fingers over her eyes.
Anxiety stirred in her chest, never far from the surface. She coached herself to breathe slowly and deeply until a semblance of stillness quieted the twitchiness beneath her ribcage.
Keeping the I-Am-Fine-See-Me-Smile mask on since waking up in the hospital three months ago had been one of the most challenging tasks she’d ever undertaken. Lately, the mask slipped more and more of its own accord as if the memories refused to be buried.
Blowing out a long breath, she sat up and looked at her bare feet against the floor. Too much time in her own head was a bad, bad thing. Swimming sounded good. Time to move.
The water was as crisp and cool as imagined. She swam to the deep end, skimmed her hands along the bottom, and squinted through the water to the blue sky above. Rhythmic breathing filled her ears. No one else shared the pool. Isolation at its finest. Peace.
She’d died in the ambulance, been revived. Sometimes she wondered why she’d been saved when she didn’t have the courage to get her life back. Why, why, why.
Blinking through the water toward the surface, she allowed the thought to expand until she couldn’t hold her breath any longer. She broke through the surface and gasped for air. She treaded water and observed the serenity around her. A teenage boy flew a kite on the near empty expanse of beach in front of the condo complex. Empty lounge chairs framed the pool. Casuarina trees stirred with the breeze. Paradise.
She flipped onto her back and stared at the sky while her hair floated around her head like a mass of seaweed. She studied how the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees onto the pool water around her like diamonds. Her fingers absently traced the jagged scar hidden beneath the swimsuit. She could get beyond that night, she knew it. Eventually. She could let it go...stop defining herself by it. Hopefully.
“Sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Austin perched on the edge of a lounge chair.
She jumped at the sound of his voice that jolted her from the thoughts weighing down her mind. She swam to the edge and grinned at her brother who’d dressed in a wildly flowered yellow shirt and long shorts.
“Wow, is that how you dress every night at work? Not exactly fashion forward. Maybe that’s what I can do...redesign your wardrobe while I’m here.” She propped her elbows along the tile surrounding the edge of the pool and stared at the ocean lapping against the shore. She slipped lower in the water, legs floating behind her and hands holding the edge.
“You’re here for downtime, not to find a project.” Worry shadowed his eyes.
She lifted herself out of the pool and sucked in her breath as the sea breeze whispered against her skin. She moved her feet through the water and watched the ripples emanate from the movement. She hated the awkwardness between them, the unspoken words that had filled a void created over years of living separate lives.
“I might come down to the bar tonight. I haven’t decided,” she said.
She could do it, walk on the beach at night, prove to everyone that she wasn’t as broken as they thought. Her gaze darted around the empty space surrounding the pool. Nothing but white sand, yellow flowers, and a turquoise ocean kissing a pale blue sky.
“Okay, Pinky, but don’t feel obligated. There’ll be other nights, other bands.” He pressed his shoulder against hers.
“Please don’t call me that.” She groaned. Ever since she’d performed with a tutu stuck into the back of a pair of pink panties at the age of eight, he’d tormented her with that nickname.
“What? Pinky? It’s been too long since I’ve had the privilege of watching your face when I say it.” With a quick laugh, he pushed her back into the pool.
She emerged, pushing heavy hair from her eyes and spitting out a mouthful of water. “I’ll get revenge. Be scared.”
“Yeah, I’ll be sleeping with one eye open.”
“It might be wise.” She lifted herself out of the pool again, wrapped herself in a towel, and followed him onto the sand.
“Sunset’s at six...l
ike clockwork...see the people dragging chairs to the beach? Happens every night. Sunsets around here are a big deal. If you’re lucky, you can see the sun shining through the water before it disappears from sight.” He squinted toward the horizon.
A couple walked hand in hand in front of them, waves caressing their bare feet. Their kids ran ahead of them, weaving a zigzag like pattern of footprints in wet sand.
“I left some take-out menus on the counter. I also wrote down Erin and Noah’s numbers, just in case you can’t get a hold of me and you need something,” he said.
“I won’t need anything.” She grinned at the wink he gave her when he mentioned writing Noah’s number down. “And I won’t be calling anyone.”
Maybe she’d been wrong thinking that coming to the Caymans had been a mistake. Being with Austin felt like the right place to be, regardless of circumstances. A long time coming.
He stepped away and waved at her over his shoulder.
Sinking to the ground, she hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the line separating sea and sky. Toes burrowed into cool white sand. A chill crawled across her skin.
A yacht bobbed beyond the reef. Laughter echoed over the waves. A ship cruised toward the setting sun, its deck lights twinkling in the twilight. She imagined people lining up for the buffet, talking about the fun they’d had during the day and fretting over sunburn.
An ocean separated her from the United States, yet she felt like she could toss a rock and hit a ghost. Chin against her knee, she stared at the horizon, thoughts tangled in the past, and let time slip away with the sun.
Travel weariness hung from her bones. The rhythm of the waves teasing her toes lulled her mind to blankness. Her gaze slipped toward the L-shaped palm tree curving over the beach.
“I wonder what Noah Reynolds looks like dry,” she whispered to the breeze. She stared at the palm tree as if wishing him to magically appear.
He didn’t.
She exhaled the hope she’d held onto for a moment, admitting to herself that she no longer believed in magic, miracles, or redemption.