Island Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story (The Kisses Series Book 9) (21 page)

E
leven Years Ago
...

T
he bright sunshine
sparkled on the blue water, turning the sea into a giant twinkling gemstone; the waves shushed against our small boat in loving caresses, begging us to stay out on the ocean just a little longer. I wanted to stay out on the water with Robbie forever. Today was my last day with my best friend.

I played with the end of a rope, hoping that the day would just freeze and that I wouldn't have to leave. My dad had quit his job with DS Oil and Gas to start out on his own and now we were having to move. I didn't understand why he wanted to quit; things were good the way they were. I was happy. I liked my middle school, I liked this neighborhood, but mostly, I liked being with my best friend. Moving was going to take all of it away.

The other boats from our sailing class were already tied at the docks and the students and instructors were getting ready to go home. Robbie and I sat out in our sailboat, sails down and bobbing gently on the waves, pretending that the class wasn't over yet. Our instructor, Mr. Henderson, was still out on the water in the boat next to us, but he understood why Robbie and I didn't want to go back to shore. This was the last time we were going to sail together. Mr. Henderson just sat in his small dinghy, pretending not to see us dawdling. There was a reason he was my favorite teacher.

"Hey, Robbie, come here! You have got to see this fish!" I cried out, peering down at the water. There was no fish, but I knew Robbie couldn't resist. He fell for this every time.

"Really? Coming!" Robbie hurried over, his skinny frame brushing against mine as he came to see what I was looking at. As soon as he leaned over the edge, I gave his shoulders a strong push, and he toppled into the blue water with a yell.

"Yup, it's a Robbie-fish!" I yelled, laughing as he surfaced. He sputtered and wiped the water out of his green eyes. He made a face at me and started swimming to the rear of the boat where he could climb back up. Our boat was a simple two-person sailboat. It didn't have a motor and was just the right size to teach two kids how to sail.

"Hey, help me up," he called from the side of the boat. I knew what was coming, but I reached my hand out toward his. This was tradition with us. Our hands met, his hand cold and wet as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. His small arms yanked down hard; Robbie was much stronger than he looked, and he easily toppled me off the boat and into the water.

The cold water made me gasp; my mouth filling with cold, salty brine. I surfaced and wiped my eyes, spitting out a mouthful of ocean at Robbie's face. The two of us looked at one another and giggled. As we tread water, he splashed me and I splashed him back. I loved this; I didn't want it to end.

"Come on, you two, it's time to head back in," Mr. Henderson called. I sighed. Robbie lifted himself out of the water and into the boat. I followed, wringing the water out of my blonde ponytail, and leaving a trail of water across the deck.

Robbie raised the mainsail, keeping the smaller jib sails down. It was easier to manage the tricky maneuver into the dock with only one sail to worry about. I took the tiller and began steering the boat back to shore.

The wind was just right to sail smoothly into the wooden dock. Robbie had the dock lines ready and he jumped easily to the dock and tied up the boat. I started bringing down the sail and tying everything up to prepare the boat for the night. Our instructor sailed in easily behind us, Robbie catching his ropes and tying him to the dock as well.

"Good job, you two," Mr. Henderson praised as he watched us carefully. "Pop quiz: Sam, what are the names of the sails and what do they do?"

"The sails are the mainsail and the jib. The mainsail is the big sail that gives most of the power and the jib is the smaller sail in front that increases speed and improves handling," I answered.

"Very good. Now, Robbie, tell me about rigging and sheets."

Robbie finished tying off one of the ropes that held the instructor's dinghy to the dock before standing and answering.

"The rigging is the cables and ropes that support the mast and sails. The lines that control the sails are called sheets, and they are held in place by cleats and winches. You use a winch to tighten the sheet to trim, or adjust and position the sails to go faster." It would have been the perfect answer, if his voice hadn't cracked, dropping him from boyish soprano to a manly bass mid-sentence. I managed to keep the smile off my face since I knew he hated when that happened. Robbie ran his hand through his hair, sending little water droplets flying through the air as he tried to look nonchalant about it.

The instructor gave us both a big smile, completely ignoring Robbie's puberty crisis. "Very good, you two. Everything looks all tied up here. Good job today." He paused and put his hands on my shoulders. "Sam, I'm sorry that this is our last class together. You are an amazing sailor and I'm so glad I got to have you as a student. Keep at it, and I'll be cheering for you at the Olympics in a few years."

I leaned forward and gave him a hug, feeling my wet clothes soaking his dry ones. He hugged me back before letting go.

"I'll see you next week, Robbie. Sam, good luck with everything," he said as he pulled away. He gave us both smiles and turned and walked away. I watched him go down the dock like I had after every sailing lesson, but today I felt my heart sink because it was my last lesson. As soon as my dad arrived to take me away, this would all be over. Now that I was off the boat, the fact that I was leaving was suddenly very real.

Robbie must have sensed my sadness, so he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the dock. "Come on, let's go rinse off," he said. His hand was warm in mine, and I hoped he wouldn't let go. He was my best friend. We had been paired up as sailing partners when we first started sailing, and now, I didn't want to sail with anyone else. I didn't want to leave and have to start over. I wished again that Dad wasn't quitting his job. This sucked.

At the end of the dock was a small spigot with a banged-up white bucket next to it. Robbie let go of my hand and turned it on, filling the bucket with freshwater. I watched the clear liquid sparkle in the afternoon sun as it filled the pail. It seemed to take forever, but I was glad. I wanted to stay here forever. I wanted to stay with Robbie.

"Do you have a house in Texas yet?" Robbie asked. His eyes stayed on the bucket, watching it fill up slowly. Our hands had found their way back together again.

"No. He's not even sure if we'll actually end up there. I don't know why he can't just keep working for your dad. He says he's wanted to start his own company for a long time and this is the best opportunity, but... I don't care. I don't want to move," I said. Robbie squeezed my hand.

"My dad doesn't want yours to go, but there isn't anything he can do about it. You promise you'll keep in touch? Maybe you can come back to New York for Christmas or something?" Hope raised Robbie's voice an octave.

"I hope so. That would be great." It was my turn to squeeze Robbie's hand. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me too," he said softly. There was a note of hurt in his voice that made me feel even more awful. Despite being a billionaire's son, Robbie didn't have a lot of friends. It was usually just him and me. Sometimes Gavin would join us, and we'd be the Three Musketeers, but Gavin didn't like to sail. Robbie and I lived for sailing. I wasn't sure what I was going to do without him.

Robbie turned off the water, and then dipped a finger into the bucket to test the temperature.

"It's warm today," he said, turning to me with a grin. Some days it was ice cold, but the sun had been shining all day. Warm was always better.

A car's brakes squeaked in the parking lot, and I saw my father's black Mercedes pulling into a parking space. We didn't have much time. Robbie saw it too, and so he lifted the bucket over our heads. We would just have to share the bucket this time, pouring it over both of us to rinse off the salt.

I stepped in close to him, feeling my heart start to beat faster. I didn't know why, but being around Robbie recently made my heart start to pound. He was my best friend, but I could feel my body starting to ask for more. I wondered if he felt the same way.

Robbie steadied the bucket and then slowly tipped it over to cascade the water down over the two of us. I moved without thinking, leaning forward and kissing him on the lips. The water sparkled around us in the sunshine as I pressed my mouth against his.

Robbie froze. The bucket fell from his hands with a clatter. My father's voice called my name, and I gave Robbie a hug, squeezing my eyes shut tight. I didn't want to let him go, but I knew I had to. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed back, holding me like he was never going to let go.

"Samantha? It's time to leave," my father called from the car. I had to go. Robbie's arms slowly released me, and I stepped back. There were tears in his green eyes.

"Bye, Robbie," I whispered and darted away as fast as I could. I didn't want him to see me cry.

I ran to the car, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind me. My dad was standing in the open door of his car, resting his arms on the frame as he waited for me. I knew there would be dry towels in the back seat for me to sit on.

I slammed the door shut, wrapping a towel around me like a blanket. I wiped at my nose, feeling the tears trickle down my face. Dad's door closed, and he backed out of the parking lot. He stayed quiet, letting me have a moment alone. Through the window I could still see Robbie standing there, the bucket rolling gently at his feet.

The car backed out, and I pressed a hand to the glass to wave goodbye. Robbie mirrored my gesture, raising his hand toward me. The car turned down the street, and Robbie was gone.

I
pulled
into the driveway and turned off the engine. It was a cute little house, quaint with a big white door. It looked like something a grandmother would live in, which was appropriate because Betty lived here, my niece’s grandmother. Or rather, she had lived here.

Sighing as I leaned back in the truck's seat, I still couldn't believe I was here, but family has to stick together. My sister, Grace, needed me. When she called to tell me Betty had died, I packed my truck the next day. Grace wouldn’t officially ask me to move in, but Grace was going to have a rough time without Betty’s help watching her daughter.

Five years old and one of the smartest little kids I had ever met, Avery was incredibly independent and a total handful. It wasn't that she misbehaved; but just like her dad, she was too smart for her own good and she had an impulsive spirit, just like her father. Often, she didn't think before she acted.

I wondered how well Grace was holding up. She was strong, but I was sure Betty's death was taking its toll on her. She had already lost so much; the death of one more person close to her seemed cruel. Our parents died when I was fifteen and Grace was nineteen. She had petitioned the courts and taken legal guardianship of me. It was just us; two teenage girls taking on the world. But, together, we survived.

The truck groaned slightly as it settled. I closed my eyes, thinking back on how things had been and how we got to this point.

Grace and her boyfriend, Evan, finished raising me after Mom and Dad died. I had been excited when Grace told Evan she was pregnant a year after the three of us had moved in together. I was sixteen at the time and thought having a baby around the house would be fun. Evan joined the Army so that he could support his growing family, and he married Grace in a simple ceremony in front of an Army chaplain before Avery was born. Money was tight, but we were happy. We were a family.

Evan worked so hard to keep Grace, Avery, and me comfortable. We were "his girls," and we traveled from base to base across the country wherever the Army sent him. Things were good, the future looked bright. Then I came home one day to find a man in uniform with a flag tucked under his arm and an apologetic look on his face. Evan's impulsive spirit had cost him dearly. The Army chaplain said he didn't even hesitate to run into the fire and had saved three lives because of it. Avery was only three.

After Evan died, his mother, Betty, asked Grace and Avery to come live with her. I had a sailing scholarship waiting for me in California, so I went off to school while Grace and Avery moved back to the East Coast. I visited as often as I could, but even with my sailing competitions occasionally sending me back East, I only saw them at Christmas and spring break. I missed them, but my sailing career was taking off.
Well
, I thought,
it
had
been.

Without air conditioning, the truck’s cabin started to heat up. It was still early summer, but the late afternoon sun beat through the windshield. It felt almost good in a drowsy sort of way, but I knew before long it would become unbearable. I was rather excited, looking forward to a shower and a night in a real bed. Traveling cross-country in an old beat-up pickup with barely enough money to pay for gas, let alone a decent hotel, made for some uncomfortable nights stretched out across the passenger seat.

A little face framed with dark blonde hair appeared in the front window of the house, as I turned into the driveway and shut off the car. Blue eyes peered out at me and a huge grin spread across her face when I waved. My time in the driveway was over. Even from the car, I could hear her little voice shouting, "AUNT SAM'S HERE! MOM! AUNT SAM'S HERE!"

The old truck’s door gave a metallic sigh when I opened it, and I stretched as soon as I could stand. My butt was numb from sitting for so long. The slight breeze was cool after being in the car, and it felt amazing. Even though we were at least a mile inland, I could almost smell the ocean. One upside to moving here was a fantastic little marina just a mile away. Not that I had a boat or anyone to sail it with, but at least it was there.

The front door of the house made a thud against the wall after Avery threw it open and ran screaming joyfully into the driveway. Kneeling just in time to have her little arms slam around my neck, she giggled with delight as I squeezed her back. I held her at arm's length and looked her up and down.

"Hmm, maybe you know where I can find my niece,” I said with a fake frown. “She looks a lot like you, but she isn't nearly as tall. And my niece is definitely cleaner." Spaghetti sauce streaked Avery’s face, and I was fairly sure that was glitter glue in her hair. Her shirt, and now mine, was covered in flour. I could just bet that her mom was eager for the little monster to start school in a couple months.

"It's me, Aunt Sam! Mom and I made cookies!" Avery grinned proudly. "And I lost a tooth yesterday and the Tooth Fairy gave me a whole dollar! And Mom said that we can go to the store later and I can buy something, and..."

"Let your aunt breathe, Avery. You can tell her your life story once we get her inside," Grace said, interrupting the stream of bubbly words coming from the excited five year old. "I thought you weren't going to be here until tomorrow?"

I stood up and gave my sister a hug. Her blue eyes were tired with dark circles underneath, but she still grinned and firmly returned my hug. I wondered just how much sleep she had, or hadn’t, been getting.

"I got woken up at the rest stop by some guy's car alarm going off at two in the morning, so I just got on the road early,” I said. “Avery mentioned something about cookies?"

Grace’s laugh brightened her features.

Avery grabbed my hand. "We made chocolate chip, and sugar, and Mom let me decorate them, and..."

"And I'm guessing she let you eat a couple of them too," I butted in. Avery gave me a toothy grin as she pulled me into the door. The house was cool and comfortable. It was just the way I remembered it from my last visit.

I sat down at the worn, wooden kitchen table while Avery chattered on about how she had decorated this cookie and that cookie. Grace poured me a tall glass of lemonade that I slowly sipped. She frowned slightly at a knock on the door, but before she could move, Avery sprinted to answer it.

"Avery, remember to look out the window before..." Grace called out as the door pinged against the wall again. "Before you answer it." Grace sighed, I set down my drink, and together we followed the chatter to the front door.

A big man in a sheriff's uniform was in the doorway, already down on one knee and listening to Avery's barrage of words. He was at least twenty years older than Grace and me, but he had a kind face. Rising as soon as he saw us, he flashed Grace and me a big smile.

"So
this
is your Aunt Sam," he said in a deep voice as he extended a hand toward me. "It's nice to finally meet you. I can see the family resemblance."

"Really?" I asked, taking his hand. Most people were surprised Grace and I were sisters. We both had dark blonde hair, but where she was tall and petite, I was shorter and stockier. "Most people don't."

He laughed. "It's in the smile. You three all have the same smile."

"What can we do for you, Matt?" Grace asked, leaning against the wall. I could see his cruiser sitting in a driveway a couple of houses down the street.

"I was just pulling in and saw a truck full of boxes in your driveway. I know you said your sister was coming in today, and I wondered if I could help carry some stuff in." He gave a warm smile. I felt like I had walked into some 1950's sitcom where the sheriff really was everybody's friend. I wondered if all sheriffs in small towns were like this.

"Thanks, Matt, but I don't think Sam has that much,” Grace said. “She's only staying for a little while.”

"Erm, well, actually..." I blushed. Grace knew I was coming to visit, but she didn't think I would actually move in. She had mentioned it, but had never officially asked. The ache in her voice when she had called to ask me for 'just a couple days' had told me she needed more than that. "It would be great to have a little help."

Grace frowned and popped her head out the door to get a look at my very full truck.

"Yeah, there is more in there than I thought. We can at least wait until it's not quite so hot out, though. How about in an hour?" Grace asked with only a hint of embarrassment.

The sheriff nodded. "I'll go change out of my work clothes and see you girls in an hour." He flashed a smile and headed back down the driveway.

"Bye, Matt!" Avery called out as he walked away.

"Is that normal?" I asked, turning to Grace.

"What?" Grace looked at me, confused.

"The sheriff just ringing your bell and asking if you need stuff unpacked? Does he help you with your groceries too?" I gave her a pointed look.

Grace rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Oh, it's not like that. He helps everybody. He and Betty were neighbors forever, and he looked out for her. When we moved in, he started keeping tabs on us too. He's more like a big brother than anything."

Grace waved her hand to dismiss whatever ideas might be brewing in my head. "Besides, he's too old for me."

"He is kind of cute," I murmured, peeking out the window to watch him walk away. He moved confidently, but with a slight limp.

"Too old. And what is all your stuff doing in the driveway, Sam?" Grace glared at me. Avery went to the window and acted like she wasn't listening.

"I came to help you. You asked if I could," I replied nonchalantly.

Grace didn't buy it for a second. "I asked if you could come and help me out
if
you had time. You are supposed to be racing this summer -- you said it was supposed to be your best season yet!" Her voice’s pitch rose like our mom's used to when she was angry.

"I told you Cora got hurt. When the doctors told the sponsors she wasn't going to be racing this season, they backed out." I shrugged and walked to the kitchen, but Grace grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face her.

"So get a new sailing partner. You are good at sailing, Sam. I won't have you waste your season just because I need a babysitter." Her blue eyes searched mine.

"I can't,” I said. “The season was already in session when she got hurt, and it just isn't possible, okay? I don't want to talk about it. Just know that my racing season was already over when you called. At least here I can help you out." I shrugged like it was nothing, but it killed me inside. "Let me at least salvage something from this summer."

This was supposed to be my year. Cora and I had flown up the rankings last year, and the season had been ours for the taking. Then Cora went swimming with some friends, dove into shallow water, and injured her back. The doctors said she was lucky she was still able to breathe on her own and that she would walk again with some therapy. Her sailing days were over, and so was our partnership. I might have found someone else to sail with if the sponsors hadn’t backed out, but without them, I didn't have a boat. It was one of those horrible series of events that just spiraled out of my control.

Grace glared at me. I knew she was angry that I was there. I was supposed to be sailing and going to school, not coming home to help raise a child. I knew that Grace was strong and smart enough to do it on her own, but I didn't want her to put herself through that. She had started nursing school last year so she could give Avery a better life, and I knew that if she didn't have someone to help watch Avery while she was in class, then she would have to quit. My dreams were already on hold; I didn't see a reason to postpone hers too.

"I am not happy about this, Sam, but I'll take it." Grace's eyes fell to the floor for a moment before meeting mine again. "You can have Betty's room."

Grace relaxed when I wrapped my reassuring arms around her. She needed me. And in all honesty, I needed her and Avery. With my racing season and sailing future in shambles, I needed something to keep me going. Avery was the perfect reason.

"I seem to recall someone saying there were chocolate chip cookies,” I said to my older sister. “I haven't gotten one yet, and that sounds delicious."

I pretended not to notice she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

"They should be finished cooling. Come on, you two, we should eat them while they're still warm." Grace squeezed my shoulder and let Avery run in front of us to the kitchen. I smiled. I could get used to calling this place home.

* * *

T
he sheriff returned
to our porch in exactly one hour. He wore a white t-shirt with a fishing logo, a pair of khaki shorts, and a ball cap with the same fishing logo as the shirt. Even wearing very casual clothing, he still somehow managed to exude an aura of authority. He quickly looked at my messy packing and figured out the best way to get everything into the house. Avery, Grace, and I followed his orders as he handed boxes off the truck and kept us moving. His methodical ways had the truck unpacked and in the house in almost no time.

"I just realized I didn't actually introduce myself when we first met," he said to me as he lifted the last box from the truck. Grace and Avery had gone inside to get more lemonade and cookies ready. "I'm Matt Grinswald. I'm the sheriff here in town."