No Other Love (A Walker Island Romance, Book 2) (13 page)

“Once you’re back in the city, we’ll need to get together to work out the details for the filming,” Juliet said. “Most of them are already in place, but if they don’t fit in with what you have in mind, I can probably get the studio to change them.”

“I’m sure the schedule will be fine,” Morgan said without really thinking about it. What would it feel like, being back in New York where she couldn’t just walk everywhere like she could on the island? Where there were eight million people rather than a couple of thousand? Where Morgan didn't already know nearly everyone?

Where there wasn’t Brian.

“Are you all right, Morgan?”

Morgan knew she needed to go back to New York because everything that she’d done, everything that she’d become, was there. And if she didn’t go back, wouldn't it be the same as admitting that she’d made the wrong choice seven years ago when she'd left the island, and her family, and Brian, to make over her entire life?

“You never needed a makeover, darling
.
”

Her grandmother’s words came back to her then, but Juliet was still talking, and Morgan knew that she needed to pay attention since there was more to do than ever once she landed in New York.

“I’m in talks with a couple of the chat shows. As you know, once one of them agrees to book you, the others will, too.”

“That’s good,” Morgan said absently.

“Before you go, I wanted to remind you that there’s filming all week in the mornings, obviously, and then Monday afternoon is the meeting with the manufacturers about the makeup line. Tuesday, you have distributors and an interview for the radio, then in the evening…”

Her life was planned out like a military operation. There was no room in it for anything beyond meetings, and shooting, and makeup.

“Are you listening?” Juliet finally asked. “Seriously, Morgan, are you okay?”

Was she?
Morgan should have been so eager to get back to New York and on to this big step up in her career. It was what she had worked toward for so long, the kind of fame and success for which she had left the island in the first place.

For which she'd left Brian seven years ago.

But now, as she sat there hearing about all the meetings and the filming sessions that were coming, she felt as if something was shriveling up inside her. As if a pit had opened up in her stomach and everything was being sucked down into it.

“You never needed a makeover.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to be shutting the doors in a minute,” the flight attendant said. “I’m afraid you need to turn your phone off now.”

Morgan had been so sure when she left as a kid that Walker Island had been holding her back. That it—and her family, friends, Brian—had been millstones around her neck, dragging her down as she tried to soar. It had taken these past three weeks for her to realize just how wrong she’d been.

“Morgan?” Juliet asked. “Are you still there?”

“Ma’am,” the flight attendant said in a far sterner voice than she'd used before, “you really have to finish your call now. I’m sure that whatever it is, it will still be there when we land.”

But that was just the problem. It wouldn’t be. Because chances were like bubbles floating on the breeze. They could burst at any moment. Of course, there was another side to that analogy. Go after them too hard, grab at them with both hands, and everything truly worth having could burst.

What did she want?

It was the question she'd been asking herself all week, but hadn't been able to answer. But now that she'd actually left again, she suddenly knew, based on how wrong it felt—and how unhappy she was—that she was making the wrong decision.

Yes, she wanted great success with both her makeup line and new show, but she also wanted her family. She wanted her friends. She wanted the island.

And, most of all, she wanted Brian and his love.

New York, she already knew, couldn’t give her all that. It had given her some things, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

“Ma’am, if you don’t turn that cell phone off,” the flight attendant said in a really stern voice, “I’m going to have to call security.”

“That’s fine,” Morgan said as she grabbed her bag and stood up. “I’m not going to be taking this flight after all. Could you arrange for my bags to be taken off the plane, please?”

“What? But we’re almost ready to take off.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I have to get off the plane.”

It had taken her this long to finally see that Walker Island hadn’t been holding her back. On the contrary, it had always given Morgan things she couldn’t get anywhere else. A place where she belonged. A big family that was always there for her. And Brian.

Always Brian.

Yes, she'd had to leave for a few years to get the other half of what she wanted, but that was the point. What lay in New York was only half of what Morgan wanted in her life, and not even the most important half.

Without the most important half, it just didn’t make sense.

“Juliet,” Morgan said into her phone as she headed for the exit of the plane, “you know how you’ve been pretty much running things while I’ve been here?”

“You're not coming back, are you?”

“I’ll get flights over when I absolutely need to film in New York, but no, I'm not coming back to live and work in New York. I understand if you don't want to work for me anymore—”

“Are you kidding? Of course I want to still work for you!”

“You do? But what if my company doesn't grow beyond where it is now?”

“It will,” Juliet said with perfect certainty. “You’ve created such a strong brand that people are more than willing to come to you now, like the reporters did. We’ll just block out some filming time, and since you seem to prefer filming on the road, I'll bet it will actually be pretty easy.”

Easy.
Could it really be easy?

Although, even as she asked herself the question, she suddenly realized that the hard part wasn't actually
doing
it. The hard part was
believing
that she could do it...and working out exactly what it was that she wanted.

Finally, Morgan knew for sure what that was: She wanted to go back to Walker Island. And she wanted Brian.

Forever
.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Football practice was not going well. In fact, it was fair to say that it was the worst it had gone all summer. The kids were enthusiastic enough, but they had an entire playbook to work through, new players to integrate, and a coach who had other things on his mind. Brian focused just long enough to watch the play in front of him, then sighed and blew his whistle.

“Run it again, and do it right this time.”

“But Coach,” one of them said, “we've already run it five times!”

Brian’s immediate reaction was to tell the kid to drop and do a hundred push-ups for talking back, but he stopped before he could say it. Even the fact that he’d thought it was bad enough...especially when he checked his copy of the playbook and realized he hadn't even been looking at the right play.

“You're right, Timmy. You've run it enough times for today. Let's take a quick water break.”

How could he not have been looking at the right play? He’d written it. He should have known the details without even having to look.

But Brian already knew the answer: He’d been thinking about Morgan. Asking himself for the thousandth time if he'd been wrong to let her go. All night long he'd gone over and over the possible scenarios, but each time he came to the same place—if he'd pressured her to stay when she didn't truly want to, she would have ended up resenting him. And no amount of love in the world would make up for that bitterness.

Still, it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to just abandon practice, rush down to the docks, head over to the airport, and book a ticket to New York so that he could somehow persuade her to come back to him.

He’d really thought that this time she might actually want to stay. That they might be able to find a way to make it work. And that she might not need to be on the opposite coast to be who she really was. Yet, apparently, the seven years that had gone by just meant more responsibilities for her. More reasons they couldn’t be together.

Brian forced himself to snap out of it and blew his whistle again, intending to start the football team off on some tackling drills. But instead of getting ready for the drill he called out, they went over to form a line at one side of the field, Tad at their head, while Natalie watched intently from the stands. At least
one
of them had gotten the girl. What’s more, Brian had been surprised to learn that Morgan had sent Natalie a list of universities that had forward-thinking science departments
and
strong football teams.

“What are you doing?” Brian asked. “This isn’t the formation for the drill.”

Brian blew his whistle again for emphasis, but it was drowned out by the blare of a trumpet a beat before the school’s band marched onto the football field in full uniform, as if they were ready for a big show.

“What’s going on?” Brian shouted over the music. “Where’s your band leader? There’s been a mistake. The football team
has the field booked.”

But they didn't stop playing, and suddenly, he realized that they weren't playing one of their usual tunes. Instead, they were playing
You and Me
, the same song that had been playing when Brian had kissed Morgan at the prom. The football players seemed to be in on it, too, as they formed up with the rest of the band, Tad directing them a little awkwardly, but still managing to keep everyone on beat.

Brian couldn't believe what he was hearing as the familiar, sweet notes were reinterpreted for a marching band complete with tuba. It shouldn’t have even come close to working, yet the sheer poignancy of the moment overrode the rest of it as the band began to create several concentric circles while the football players hung around the edges. But all of them were looking at one person standing in the middle of the field.

Morgan.

She was wearing a dress almost exactly like the prom dress she had worn all those years ago and had a garland of wild flowers in her hair. For a moment, it was like going back in time.

The thought had barely passed through his mind when he realized that they didn't need to go back to the past. Not when Morgan was even more beautiful now than she had been back then. Not when they were both a lot older and wiser.

And not when Brian loved her more than he ever had.

He started running across the field, as fast as he could to get to her. And yet, it still took far too long to weave through the lines of the marching band and finally pull her into his arms.

Brian kissed her then, deeply and passionately, ignoring the cheers from the band and football players around them. Her garland was a little crooked by the time they finally drew back from each other, but she looked as beautiful as ever. Although, he suddenly realized, there was one thing about her that was different—she wasn’t wearing makeup.

She looked as beautiful without it as she ever did with it, but Brian still understood how huge this was for her. To be without the perfect mask, just for once, so that she could show him the real her with nothing else between them.

“I wanted to make a really big gesture to apologize for running off on you again. And to convince you to forgive me.”

“You never have to apologize to me, Morgan. And there's nothing to forgive. There never was. I've always loved you, through thick and thin, near and far. Although,” he said as he dipped his mouth down to press it against hers again, “I'm hoping this is your way of telling me you want to be
near.
”

“I do,” she confirmed with another kiss of her own, before adding, “But I also really wanted to do something big to show you how much I love you.”

“I've always known that you love me, just as much as I love you,” he told her. “But I'm still impressed that you managed to do all this.”

Morgan smiled, saying, “I’m a Walker,” and for the first time, she sounded truly pleased about it. “This is my great-grandfather’s island. My grandfather built the school. I grew up surrounded by the most incredible people. Especially you, Brian.” In her eyes, he saw a brighter spark of passion and joy than he ever had before. “This is where I belong. With you and my family.”

“But do you really think you can run your career from here without feeling you had to give up everything that you've worked so hard for and that matters so much to you?” God, he hated having to ask, but if he didn't, he'd wonder forever if he'd let her make the wrong decision. “Because you deserve
to have it all, Morgan, and I would never want to be in your way.”

“I'm going to figure out how to do it all from here,” Morgan vowed. “The garden was a start, and hopefully you'll be able to take some time off now and again to come with me on the road as I film my traveling makeover segments. Plus, I was thinking during the taxi ride and on the ferry back to the island that it might not be that difficult to convince my sister Hanna to set up a studio for both of us here. After the way every one of the reporters I invited came, I now know people will travel to the island to work and film. Not just because they want to work with me, but also because Walker Island is somewhere people can't resist visiting. It's a magical place that’s always been full of dreams. And love. So much love that I can't imagine ever living anywhere else. Just as I can't imagine living with
anyone
else. There's no other love for me, Brian. Only you.
Always
you.”

Brian couldn't wait another moment to go down on one knee, right there in the mud of the football field. “Marry me, Morgan, and make me the happiest man alive.”

Her
yes
was drowned out by the cheers of the football players and band members.

EPILOGUE

Rachel looked over the happy chaos of Morgan and Brian’s new home, not far from the Walker house, with its view over the waterfront and its small garden, already full of aromatic plants. There were still moving boxes everywhere, but Morgan clearly was far more interested in putting the finishing touches on the makeovers of a couple of high school girls in her makeshift studio than she was with finishing her unpacking. Hanna was moving around the studio with a handheld video camera so that she could shoot Morgan and the teenagers with the backdrop of the ocean behind them.