First Time in Forever (17 page)

“I never object to a physical relationship, and it would do you good to rediscover some of those emotions you’ve been blocking out.” His eyes were hooded, his voice low, and she felt her insides melt faster than the ice cream.

Flirting was as alien to her as all the other emotions swirling inside her. She tried desperately to change the subject. “Is it true that Summer Scoop is in trouble? That the place has had five owners in as many years?”

His smile told her he knew exactly what she was doing. “Yeah, that part is true.”

“So you think Lisa made a mistake buying the business?”

He shrugged. “One person’s mistake is another person’s adventure.”

She wondered if that comment was aimed at her. “But with two children to support, the stakes are different.”

“True.” He finished his ice cream and licked his fingers. “Children have a habit of killing adventure.”

She thought of the way Lisa had talked about her kids. Even in that brief encounter, she could see they were everything to her. “I think to some people kids
are
the adventure.”

“They can also be too much reality.” His tone was dry. “How is your ice cream?”

“The ice cream is delicious. The place should be packed.”

“It should be, but it never is. I’m probably a tiny bit to blame for that. The Ocean Club pulls in a lot of casual lunchtime and evening business.”

“But it’s a different market.”

“Maybe, but we’re all competing for the same tourist dollars.”

Emily glanced at the pretty ice cream parlor. “There should be room for both of you. Do you stock her product?”

“Sorry?”

“Do you serve her products at the Ocean Club?”

“I have no idea. I don’t micromanage. I leave that to the chef. I think he makes his own.”

“This ice cream is good. And it’s homemade on the island from the Warrens’ organic dairy herd.”

“How do you know that?”

“It says so on the poster. Makes me imagine green pastures and everything healthy, which is ironic given the fat content.” She finished her ice cream regretfully. “That was good. It wouldn’t hurt you to put in an order.”

“That’s what I have to do to gain approval?” There was humor in his eyes. “I’ll talk to Anton.”

“Anton? Seriously?” Emily laughed. “You have a chef called Anton?”

“I do.”

“Is he French?”

“No. Born and bred in Maine. The things he can do with a lobster would make you cry. Can those shoes of yours cope with a walk?” He glanced down at her feet. “There’s a view I want to show you.”

And suddenly she realized that she was standing in the street, laughing with a man as if this was her life. As if she were free to follow her instincts and impulses.

Just for a moment, with the sun on her face and Ryan by her side, she’d forgotten everything.

“I should get back.”

“Coward.”

“I’m thinking of Lizzy. I haven’t left her before.”

“She’ll be fine with my grandmother.” His voice was soft. “Walk with me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s midday and half the residents of Puffin Island are going about their business in Main Street. As you’re keen to avoid attention, I’m suggesting we get out of here.”

“You could just stop looking at me,” Emily muttered. “That would do it.”

“That isn’t an option.” He took her hand and drew her into the narrow street that ran between the bakery and the hardware store. It wound away from the main harbor area and was a shortcut to the Ocean Club.

“I might be able to help her.”

“Who?”

“Lisa. I might be able to give her business advice. I’m a management consultant. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at.”

They took the path that led up past the Ocean Club and turned inland. This side of the island was thickly wooded, with steep trails zigzagging through dense forest. On the other side was farmland, with rolling pastures leading down to the sea.

Shaded from sunshine, breathing in the smell of pine, Emily made a mental note to bring Lizzy here.

“It’s pretty.” And quiet. The only sound was the call of the birds and the snap of twigs under their feet. “I can see why Lisa would have chosen to live here.”

“Here—” he handed her a bottle of insect repellent “—better use this on the areas that aren’t covered. We have mosquitoes the size of small birds, and they love black. Tell me about your job.”

“My expertise was strategy and operations. I worked mostly in the consumer goods industry.”

“You know about ice cream?”

“Not specifically, but that doesn’t matter. I’m a problem solver. I look at product, pricing, positioning, supply chains—” She broke off. “This is boring. You don’t want to hear the detail.”

“All those long words are turning me on, but I confess I zoned out when you said ‘positioning.’” He grinned at her. “Clearly I have a thing for management consultants. Who knew?”

“We’re in a competitive market. Companies need to stay agile.”

He groaned. “Honey, you are killing me. Just don’t start talking about growth or I’ll be arrested.”

Because everything about him unsettled her, she chose to ignore the innuendo. “We apply lean principles—”

“That’s going to be a challenge given the amount of fat in Summer Scoop ice cream. I assume you decided to be a management consultant because it requires not a shred of emotion.”

“I like the logic and predictability of figures, that’s true, but there is emotion attached to what I do. Companies expand and contract depending on the advice my company gives.”

“But it isn’t personal.”

“No,” she conceded. “It isn’t personal. It suits the way my brain works.”

“So, what are you going to do with that brain of yours now?”

“I don’t know. I have enough money saved to support both of us for a little while, so I’m still taking it twelve hours at a time.” Sun filtered through spruce and pine, and Emily realized they’d walked quite a distance from the harbor. “I never knew it was this densely wooded.”

“Maine isn’t called the Pine Tree State for nothing. It takes a couple of hours to walk to the top, but the views are incredible. I’ll take you one day.”

“And Lizzy.”

His hesitation was so brief it would have been easy to miss. “And Lizzy.” His tone was deceptively light. “If that’s what you want.”

The way he said it left her in no doubt as to the way he saw their relationship.

For him, it was all about exploring the physical connection and nothing else.

As for her—she had no idea how she saw things.

Confused by her own feelings, she changed the subject. “Would she want help, do you think?”

“Lisa? I don’t know her that well, but given that this was her dream, I’m guessing the answer to that would be yes. No one wants to give up a dream, do they? It gets a little steep here.” He held out his hand, and she hesitated and then took it. Immediately those strong fingers curled around hers, and she remembered the night before, the way they’d felt locked in her hair, stroking her breasts, buried deep—

“I’m not dressed for hiking.” Her face was hot, and she tried to ignore the feel of his hand on hers.

“Are you too hot? Unfasten a button on that shirt. Don’t worry about insects, I’ll keep my eyes on you.”

“I’m cool, thank you.” She sent him a look designed to wither, but he merely smiled.

“Really? I’m hot as hell, but that may be because I’m marinating in my own sinful thoughts about last night.” Twigs snapped under his feet as he walked. “Have you ever had forest sex?”

Emily almost stumbled. His hand tightened on hers, and she kept her eyes on the ground, picking her way along the trail. “I’ve lived in cities all my life.”

“You’ve never had outdoor sex?”

“You mean apart from all the sex I had in the middle of Times Square?” Her sarcasm drew a smile.

“You never had sex in Times Square.” Swift and sure, he backed her against a tree, caged her. “You never had sex anywhere you might be caught. With you it’s all locked doors and the lights off. I bet you’ve only ever had sex in a bed.” A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth, and she felt her tummy tumble.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and his voice was rough. “Because you’ve only ever had ‘nice’ sex. And ‘nice’ sex isn’t the sort that happens with your back against a tree and your skirt around your waist.”

“I’m not wearing a skirt, and I don’t see anything exciting about bark burn.”

Eyes gleaming, he lowered his head toward hers. “Want me to show you?”

Yes.
She, for whom sex had been all the things he’d described. Locked door and lights out. “I have to get back to Lizzy.” The only sound was the birds in the trees and the pounding of her own heart. “Seriously, Ryan.” She tried to evade him, but she was trapped between the tree and the hard power of his thighs.

His hand came up to her face, his fingers gentle. “Am I scaring you?”

She didn’t answer because her heart was in her mouth. Her stomach squirmed with a twist of intense desire. Even the smell of fresh air and the sound of the sea hadn’t been enough to cool the memories of what he’d made her feel.

“Not scare exactly. But my life is already complicated enough.”

“I’m not offering you complicated.” His voice husky, he lowered his head and trailed his mouth along the line of her jaw. “In fact, right now I’ve been reduced to man in its most basic form. What I’m offering is simple.”

“You’re talking about sex.” Her eyes closed and her heart raced. She felt the erotic drag of his mouth move down to her neck and linger on the pulse just above her collarbone. “Sex is never simple.”

“It can be.”

Dizzy with the intensity of wanting, she placed her hand on his chest “Ryan—”

“Yeah, I know.” Reluctantly he eased away from her. “I’m pushing my luck for a first date.”

“This isn’t a date.”

“Ice cream followed by a walk in the woods? On Puffin Island that counts as serious.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a gentle hand. “We’ll go back now. You don’t have the right footwear for a long walk. If you’re going to be living on Puffin Island, you might want to do something about that. Unless you have a secret stash of outdoor gear?”

“Most of my clothes are like the ones I’m wearing.”

“That’s what I figured. This is an outdoor paradise. We’ll have you hiking, mountain biking and kayaking in no time. Better buy some equipment. We have a great selection in the Ocean Club. And I’m going to take you out on my yacht. The best way to see the island is from the sea.” They started walking back down the trail, with sunlight beaming through the trees and the sounds of the forest in the background.

“I will walk in the forest, but I’m never going on a yacht.”

“Penobscot Bay has some of the best sailing in the world.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I have to experience it firsthand. I don’t like the idea of all that water underneath me, and—” she hesitated “—I don’t swim.”

He stopped. “You never learned?”

“I haven’t been in the water since that day.”

Shock spread across his face. “I assumed—that should have been the first thing your mother did for you.”

“She didn’t, and I’m glad she didn’t.”

“Everyone should be able to swim.”

“Not me. I don’t need to because I’m never going in the water.” She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and pulled her back toward him.

“I’m going to teach you.”

She closed her hands over his arms to steady herself, her fingers biting into the rock-hard muscle of his biceps. “I don’t want to learn.”

“I’ll teach you in the Ocean Club pool. There’s a shallow end.”

“I don’t care if you’re offering to teach me in your tub—I’m not interested in learning to swim. I am happy to hike and ride a mountain bike, but you will not persuade me to go on a boat of any sort, and you certainly won’t persuade me to swim.”

“Not even if I promise to keep you safe?”

She looked into those eyes and felt her center of balance shift. “A woman might be many things with you, Ryan Cooper. But I don’t think ‘safe’ is one of them.”

CHAPTER NINE

A
T
L
IZZY
’
S
INSISTENCE
, they called at Agnes’s every morning to walk Cocoa. Resigned to her new role as dog walker, Emily paid a trip to the Outdoor Store, equipped them both with hiking boots, rain slickers, insect repellent and a small rucksack, and each day they took the dog and explored a different part of the island. On the first day they followed the road out of the harbor and along the trail that wound its way through overgrown fields to the south of the island, accompanied by song sparrows and butterflies. The trail skirted the edge of the Warrens’ farm, sixty-five acres of mixed hardwood, pasture and hay fields. They stopped to admire the herd of dairy cows who provided the organic milk for the ice cream at Summer Scoop, and walked on through meadows crowded with Queen Anne’s lace and goldenrod.

On another day they walked the coastal path around to the east of the island. Emily chose the route that went a little way inland, rather than the path that clung to the rocks and rose up over the bluff. Here, the mossy woods crowded the shoreline, sending dark shadows across rocky coves. Gulls bobbed in the water, and seals played hide-and-seek in the surf around the rocks. Cocoa strained at her leash, desperate to explore, but the one place Emily refused to walk was on the beach itself.

She tried to retrace the walk she’d done with Ryan into the woods, but Lizzy was nervous and Emily was afraid of getting lost. She insisted Lizzy wear her hat whenever they were outdoors, but the people she passed were either tourists or locals and none of them showed any interest in a young woman and her daughter. Gradually the acute fear of discovery faded to a dull, background throb.

They returned from their walks at lunchtime, and Emily called into the delicatessen to pick up something for lunch. They then took it back to Agnes’s and ate it picnic style, either on the covered porch overlooking her garden or, if mist had blown in, at her kitchen table.

Occasionally Emily left Lizzy with Agnes while she went and bought provisions, but otherwise she kept the child close.

“Do you think I’m overprotective?”

Lizzy had fallen asleep on the sofa after an exhausting morning with Cocoa, and Agnes and Emily were drinking iced tea in the light-filled living room.

“I think you had a bad experience, and you haven’t had to rebuild your confidence.” Agnes was sorting through another box of children’s books for Lizzy. “You lived a life that didn’t include the sea or young children, so you didn’t have a reason to challenge your fear or push yourself out of your comfort zone. But you will, now you’re living here. You can’t live on Puffin Island and ignore the sea. It’s essential to island life. It feeds us, and it keeps us connected to the mainland.”

“I think I preferred the mainland. There was no chance of drowning in Manhattan, and I never went near the Hudson.”

“But Manhattan has other dangers.”

Emily sipped her tea. “I didn’t really think about them.”

“That’s because we’re all a product of our experiences. Someone who had a bad experience in a city might think differently.”

“Do you think I can change?”

“You already are. Look where you’re sitting.” Agnes added another book to the pile. “A week ago you sat with your back to the window, but now you’re in my favorite spot on the window seat, looking at the boats on the water. It’s a pretty sight, isn’t it?”

Emily turned her head. “There’s glass between me and the water.”

“But you’re looking at it. That’s progress. And I’ve made progress, too. Lizzy and I have cleared four boxes of books this week.”

“Most of them are now in Castaway Cottage. Thank you. It’s generous of you. And I love books.” Books were almost all she’d brought with her from her old life. Old battered copies and first editions she’d collected over the years. “Whenever I had something to celebrate, I bought a book.”

“I need to reduce all the clutter, but I’m not good at parting with anything.” Agnes reached for another box. “This is something else I can’t bring myself to clear out.”

“What is it?”

“All of Ryan’s stories. Of course, a lot of it is online, but I’m not good with the internet, so he used to send me the paper versions.” She opened the box, and Emily saw neatly sorted stacks of newspaper clippings.

“There were stories about him in the press?”

“He wasn’t the subject of the story, he
wrote
the story. He didn’t tell you that? He’s so modest. He won a Pulitzer Prize, you know, for news reporting.”

No, she didn’t know. Emily’s mouth dried. “Are you saying he’s a journalist?”

“Was.” Agnes leafed through the clippings, pride on her face. “The best. He had a way of getting to the emotion of a story. He’s a good listener. People tell him things. Things they would never tell other people.”

I’m not afraid of emotions.

Emily stood up, feeling as if she were sleepwalking. She’d told him things. Things she’d never told other people. She’d done things with him she hadn’t done with anyone else. “Would you look after Lizzy for a while? There’s something I need to do.”

“Of course.” Agnes glanced up from her news clippings. “She’s perfectly safe here with me.”

It took Emily less than five minutes to walk the short distance to the Ocean Club.

She strode through the door and into the crowded Bar and Grill where Kirsti was circulating.

“Hi, Emily.” Kirsti gave her a friendly smile. “No Lizzy today?”

“She’s with Agnes.” Her voice sounded robotic. “I need to see Ryan.”

“Of course you do.” Kirsti behaved as if Emily’s unplanned visit was the most natural thing in the world. “He’s in his office. He’s had a hell of a morning, so I know he’s going to be pleased to see you.”

No,
Emily thought grimly as she walked to the back of the Ocean Club.
He most definitely wouldn’t be.

Ryan’s office faced the water, and he was on the phone with his feet on the desk, when she walked in.

“He was supposed to fix the pump. I told him we’d—” He broke off as he saw Emily. “I’ll call you back, Pete. Go check it out. Don’t delegate this one. If necessary I’ll dig out the tools and do it myself.” He hung up the phone and smiled.

That assured smile was the final straw. “I need to talk to you.”

“Just when I thought a bad day wasn’t going to turn good, you walk in.” He lifted his eyebrows as she slammed the door shut. “Is this about sex in public places? Because—”

“You lied to me.” The anger was like a burning coal inside her. Later there would be other emotions, but right now fury overrode everything else. Fury and a deep sense of betrayal.

Ryan removed his feet from the desk. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm. Just angry.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible to be calm and angry.”

She paced across his office and stood in front of him. “I won’t ask why you didn’t tell me, because that part is obvious, but I will ask what your intentions are. I have a right to know that.” She needed to know whether she was going to have to leave the island. The thought made her stomach churn because she had no idea where she’d go.

“My intentions?”

“You lied to me. You sat there and talked to me about how the press wouldn’t be interested. You reassured me. You sat in my kitchen and acted as if you were my friend. As if you were someone I could trust. You bought Lizzy a
hat
, for God’s sake, to hide her from prying eyes and all the time you’re—you’re—”

“Wait a minute. Slow down. We’re talking about Lizzy? I thought you were talking about this thing we have.” The look he gave her could have singed the edges of her hair. “The chemistry. I thought it unsettled you. That’s why I backed off. I was giving you space.”

Her gaze met his, and for a moment she was knocked off balance. “I’m talking about the fact you’re a journalist, Ryan. When were you going to tell me? After a piece on Lizzy came out with your byline?”

He stilled. “How did you find out?”

“I’d like to say I looked you up on the internet because anyone in my position with a shred of common sense would have done that, but I didn’t.” After they’d had waffles on the deck that first morning she’d looked up the Ocean Club and spent half an hour on their slick website. She’d read his bio and been impressed. She hadn’t thought to put his name alone into a search engine. “Agnes was sorting through a file of all the stories you’ve written. She’s proud of you. She didn’t seem to know you’d conveniently kept that part of your life from me.”

His gaze didn’t shift from hers. “Did you look at the stories?”

“No. I wasn’t in the mood to mull over your career success. I was too busy wondering why you’d chosen to keep it from me. And the answer is pretty obvious.”

“Emily, listen—”

“I listened when you suggested Lizzy and I join you for lunch. I listened when you said I could trust you. I told you everything. And you’re such a good listener, aren’t you, Ryan? So good at parting people from their secrets. For a while I thought you had a gift with people, but now I realize it’s one of the tools of your trade. You even won a prize for it. Tell me, is sex another part of your superior technique to get people to tell you everything?”

His face was blank of expression. “You know it isn’t.”

“I don’t know anything.” She felt an ache deep in her gut because even now part of her wanted to believe that what had happened between them was real. “All I know is that you lied.”

“I was going to tell you. I was waiting for the right moment.”

“And when was that going to be? When you’d told everyone the whereabouts of Juliet Elizabeth Fox?” She saw the brief flare of anger in his eyes.

“Do you really think I would do that?” He stood up so suddenly the chair scraped on the floor. “Hell, Emily. I’ve been doing everything I can to make the two of you feel safe here.”

“For what purpose? So that you can tip off a journalist as to exactly where Lana Fox’s child is living and get the credit? Is this what you journalists call an exclusive? You deliberately withheld information about yourself. If your past had no impact on the present, then why didn’t you tell me the truth? You told me about your childhood, about your brothers and sisters, your parents, Agnes—but not once did you mention that you used to be a journalist.”

He swore under his breath and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Listen—” He broke off and scowled as the door to his office opened, and Kirsti put her head around. “Not now—”

“Sorry, boss.” Kirsti slunk away, closing the door behind her again, and Emily turned and walked toward it.

“You didn’t need to send her away. I’ve said all I have to say.”

“Good. So now it’s my turn. Sit down.”

“There is nothing you have to say that I can possibly want to hear.” She reached the door at the same time he did, and he stretched past her and pushed it shut with the flat of his hand.

“Except the truth. You don’t have to believe me, but you’ll at least listen.” He was standing so close to her she could smell that elusive male scent that made her knees weaken.

“Why are you suddenly so keen to tell me the truth?”

“Look around you, Emily. What you see is a man who has plowed every last dollar and cent into this business and this island. I’m not a journalist. I haven’t worked as a journalist for four years, and even when I did I wasn’t reporting the sort of story you’re describing.” There was a hardness to his jaw and shadows in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

Or maybe she hadn’t been looking.

“So why didn’t you mention what you used to do?”

“Because it isn’t part of my life now, and once I discovered why you were here, I knew I couldn’t talk about it. You needed someone to trust, and if I’d told you, you wouldn’t have trusted me.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have. But that should have been my choice to make.”

“Brittany trusts me. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“She should have told me the truth instead of telling me you were a friend.”

“I am a friend. And the reason she didn’t tell you is because she didn’t think it was relevant.”

“You were a journalist! How can that not be relevant? And whatever has happened before, I need you to be honest with me now, for Lizzy’s sake, if not for mine. Should I be worried? Have you told anyone she’s here?”

He hesitated for a second too long. “I made one call after that day you saw the photo in the newspaper, but only to try and get a sense of how interested people were.”

Her heart started to race. “You
called
someone?”

“An old friend. And he didn’t know why I was calling.”

“How do you know? What if he guesses? They could come here.”

“The media is losing interest. Lana was the story, not her child. They’re not going to come.”

“If they do—if they find her and scare her—there is no quick way off the island. If they come, where do I run to?”

“You won’t need to run. They won’t come.”

“That first day when you came knocking on my door—” it was painful to ask the question because she was afraid of the answer “—it wasn’t because you were looking for Lizzy?”

“I’ve told you. Brittany asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“Why would you agree? I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t do anything that doesn’t suit you. What is this relationship you have with Brittany that you’re willing to put your life on hold to keep an eye on a stranger? What do you gain from this if it isn’t a story you can sell? She told me that you owe her.”

He gave a tired smile. “That’s a private joke.”

“I’ve had enough of private. Exactly
what
do you owe her?”

He turned and paced across to the window of his office to stare out over the water. “I was best man at Brittany’s wedding.”

Of all the things she’d expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. “Her wedding?
The
wedding? So you’re friends with the bastard who walked out on her at the end of their honeymoon? Oh, my God.” A suspicion formed in her mind. “We saw him. He was flying the plane Skylar took last weekend. I recognized him. The first thing Brittany did when she arrived at college was pin a large photo of him on the wall to remind her never to be stupid about a man again. I stared at his face long enough to be able to recognize him when I saw him in person. Did you know he was back here?”