Summer on Lovers' Island (20 page)

He lifted a solitary eyebrow. “At least in the Army people didn't nag.”

She started laughing. “Fine. Suit yourself. I get it. I've wallowed in my bubble of misery lots of times. Have fun.”

She clenched the leather strap of her bag, opened the door, and hopped down. Her steps crunched on the rock of the driveway as she made her way to the cottage door. The light wasn't on, so she reached into her purse, rummaging around for her keys. Josh's door opened and then closed again.

She'd found the keys and slipped the proper one into the lock when Josh's voice came across the clearing. “Whiskey, you say?”

Lizzie smiled to herself, opened the door, and waited for him.

 

C
HAPTER
13

Josh questioned the wisdom in following her inside. All week he'd done a great job of keeping things platonic, because that was what he thought she wanted. And if he was truthful, part of him wanted that, too. Inside, she turned on a lamp, casting a soft, warm glow on the living room. “Make yourself comfortable,” she suggested. “I'll get glasses. On the rocks, or do you want a mix?”

“Rocks works for me.”

The cottage looked exactly the same as it had when Tom had lived here. Same rugged plaid-upholstered furniture, sturdy tables and shelves Tom had constructed himself in his workshop. Until today, Josh had been certain that he'd put his resentment toward Tom away for good. Josh didn't blame Tom anymore. He wasn't sure he ever had, though it had been easier than blaming himself or Erin. But tonight's announcement had brought certain memories rushing back and it had him on edge.

So whiskey. And Lizzie. Between the two, maybe he could forget. Or at least let it go.

He settled himself on one side of the sofa, crossed his right ankle over his knee. In no time Lizzie was back, two glasses in her hands. She handed him one and put the other on the coffee table. “I'll be back in a few minutes. I've been in work clothes all day.”

“Sure,” he responded, his mind following her to the bedroom, imagining her changing. He should probably stop fooling himself. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since that Sunday on the island. A man couldn't just forget something that memorable.

He sipped the whiskey, felt the welcome burn down the back of his throat, the flicker of it as it hit his stomach.

“There, that's better.”

She'd barely been gone two minutes, but Josh's mouth went dry at the sight of her. It wasn't even remotely sexy, but a pair of plain black yoga pants and a snug V-neck T-shirt hugged her curves like a dream. Running—or whatever else she did for exercise—had made her butt high and tight, her waist spare, and the V-neck emphasized the delicious curve of her breasts. She held her own highball glass, the ice cubes clinking softly as she took the far end of the sofa, folding herself up in the corner with her legs crossed.

“Comfortable?” he asked dryly, tipping his glass for a sip.

She grinned. “Actually, I am. This is a really comfortable couch. If I'm not out on the deck enjoying the view, I'm usually here in the corner with a book or something.”

He realized that sounded pretty lonely. He lived alone, too, and the quiet, while welcome most of the time, could get a little
too
quiet. “What about Charlie? Do you spend a lot of time together?”

She shrugged, drank. “Some. But she's busy with her husband. I don't like to intrude.”

“You're her best friend. It wouldn't be intruding. Especially with Charlie.” He leaned back against the cushions. “She was pretty excited you were coming for the summer, you know.”

Lizzie smiled again. “Okay, then let me put it this way. I'm not all that fond of third wheeling.”

She looked a little too knowing as she said that. He regretted now ever telling her anything about Tom and Erin. He had probably been a bit transparent tonight.

When he didn't say anything, she put her glass down on a side table. “Josh?” His name was gentle on her lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” He raised an eyebrow. Kept his expression deliberately bland.

She slid over on the couch and put her hand on his knee, the soft pressure warm and more welcoming than it should have been. “Not long ago you found me on the beach, upset because of my mom. I know what pain looks like, Josh, no matter how you try to hide it. And Abby and Tom's news hurt you tonight. I just don't know why. You mentioned once that you'd wanted children but that Erin hadn't. Does that have something to do with it?”

He debated telling her, but only Tom knew the most humiliating secret of Josh's marriage to the woman they'd both loved. And since they'd reconciled their friendship, Josh knew Tom would never laud it over him. Josh had hated his cousin for a long time, but he'd always known that Tom would never be cruel.

“Josh? Why don't you talk to me? I really do have a good ear.”

“I don't need an ear.” He handed her his glass. “Thanks for the drink, Lizzie, but I shouldn't finish it if I'm going to drive home.”

He got up and got as far as the door to the kitchen when her voice stopped him, low and silky. “Do you want to go home?”

He hesitated. That was his first mistake. Considered what she was asking. That was his second. He should keep going, straight out the door, back to his house, and sleep on his thoughts so he could have a better head on his shoulders tomorrow. Sleeping with her when he was this upset simply wouldn't be smart.

Instead he could only think of the softness of her skin, how it was both sweet and salty, and how much he'd love to have her in his arms again.

He turned around. She was standing by the sofa, his glass still in her hand. She lifted it and tossed back the liquor. “There. Now you don't have to worry about the drink.”

God almighty, she was a sexy little thing. He let out his breath and went back to where she was standing, close enough that she had to tip her chin way up to meet his gaze. “Are you asking me to stay, Lizzie?”

“Maybe. If you tell me what's eating at you.”

He wrinkled his brow and stepped back. “Sex as a bargaining tool. I didn't think you had it in you.”

“Not at all. I just think if you're going to take me to bed, the air should be clear. Because if you're with me, Josh, you're only with me. Not with whatever or whoever got you tied up in knots tonight.”

He hated that she was right.

“It's not really something that promotes … you know.”

“‘You know'?” She chuckled softly. Reached up and smoothed a piece of hair away from his temple. “What are you saying, Josh? That you spilling your guts is going to kill the fun boner?”

He couldn't help it; he snorted. It sounded so funny coming from her pert little mouth. She grinned wickedly and twirled the slight curl of hair around her finger. “Okay, I admit that I'm not sure what I'll do if you cry. But I think you need to get whatever it is off your chest.”

He sighed.

She retrieved her glass from the table and handed it over. “You look like you could use this first,” she suggested.

Josh took the glass and tossed down the rest of the alcohol, the mostly melted cubes tinkling back into the bottom. He took a deep breath, met her eyes, and decided he might as well just say it. Maybe—and he figured it was a very small chance—she was right and he'd feel better.

But damn. It was hard for a man to admit he hadn't been enough for his wife.

*   *   *

Lizzie watched as Josh tossed back the whiskey like it was water. He didn't even flinch as it had to burn its way down his esophagus like liquid fire. But the last ten minutes had told her two very important things. One, Josh was definitely holding something in, something that still had the power to hurt him, and she understood and empathized with it. And two, he still wanted her. After the cold shoulder throughout the week, all it had taken was her asking if he wanted to stay and he'd changed his mind about walking away.

Hot damn.

“Do you want another?”

He nodded and handed over the glass. “I'll take the next one slower,” he answered with a sober nod.

She went to the kitchen for fresh ice and added a liberal splash of whiskey to each glass, then back to the living room. Josh was standing in front of the window, looking out over the dark, still waters of the inlet. She put her drink down, then went to him and put one hand on his back and handed over the drink with the other.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“You're welcome.”

“So,” she said, standing beside him at the window. “You ready to tell me what's eating at you so much?”

He took a good-sized sip of the drink and swallowed. “You have to understand that what I'm about to tell you throws massive aspersions on my manhood.”

“Aspersions?” She laughed, looking up at his profile. But halted when she could see he was mostly serious. “Okay. Try me. I'm guessing your manhood is just fine.”

He took a deep breath. “So I thought Erin and I were trying to have a baby, but the whole time she was taking the pill behind my back.”

Lizzie stared at him. “What? Were you not on the same page or what?”

He faced her and laughed bitterly. “Looking back, I don't think we were even in the same book. She knew I wanted a family, and she pretended to want to give it to me. It worked for a while, too. I thought we'd really turned a corner in our marriage. Like we could really be happy.”

She wondered if he realized how much pain bled through what he thought was anger. If he blamed Erin or blamed himself. Considering what Lizzie knew of him so far and how he seemed to take responsibility for everyone in his family, she could guess that he placed a good portion of it squarely on his own shoulders.

“I'm sorry, Josh. That's a dirty trick, playing with your emotions like that.” She reached over and touched his wrist. “How did you find out?”

He didn't move his arm away from her touch, but he didn't acknowledge it, either, and she wondered if he actually realized her fingers were on his wrist. He was back to staring out the window again, as if it were easier to say if he avoided eye contact.

“She was so determined to do one last deployment,” he replied. “Then she told me she was going to be spending a weekend with friends. I checked her GPS when she got back, because I had a terrible feeling she'd been lying. She had. She'd come here, to Jewell Cove. To see Tom.”

No wonder Josh had been so pissed at his cousin.

“Did they…?” She left the question unfinished, knowing he'd understand anyway.

“Tom says no. And I believe him. We grew up together. And he was hurt as badly as I was, I think. But damn. At the time I didn't know if they had or hadn't been together. I didn't trust her not to lie about it, and Tom and I hadn't spoken in years. I couldn't be with her after that. From that day until the one when she left, I stayed on my side of the bed. All I could think was that if we slept together, and she got pregnant, I'd wonder if it was mine or his. I couldn't do that.”

He turned away from the window and faced Lizzie. “A few weeks after she was deployed, I found the empty pack. Every month when she started her period we'd lament the fact that we hadn't been successful. I never realized she was such a good actress.”

“You really wanted a family,” Lizzie said softly.

“More than anything,” he answered, and she heard the pain in his voice. “And she knew it. And the truth of the matter was, she wanted a family, too. Just not with me. She'd gone to see Tom that night to tell him she was going to leave me and that they could finally be together the way they should have been all along.”

Lizzie swore. “Are you serious?” She'd met Tom. She liked Tom. But why on earth would anyone married to Josh be able to turn him away so easily? He was a good guy. Kind, compassionate, strong, funny, sexy—

Okay. This was not supposed to lead to a laundry list of his good points. She found him attractive on a lot of levels. Didn't mean
she
wanted to marry the guy—

“The whole time she was gone I didn't know what to do. I didn't want the marriage to end, but damn, I was tired of feeling like second choice. I thought maybe if she came back we could try some counseling or something. Instead she didn't come back at all. And the last thing I said—”

He stopped talking abruptly. His lips closed tight and Lizzie saw a muscle tic in his jaw.

“Josh,” she said gently, rubbing his arm. “What did you say?”

“It doesn't matter.”

Lizzie swallowed back a sigh. Josh had a lot of pride. She could relate to that. She wasn't proud of a lot of things she'd said and done over the last several months. But she didn't have the same regret as Josh. This was his wife. His marriage. And he could never have a do-over.

As he stared at the black water of the bay, Lizzie slid her arm off his arm and to his back, rubbing gently along his spine. “Josh, you put on a good face for everyone, don't you?”

He shrugged beneath her hand, but she persistently left it where it was. “What good would it do,” he said bitterly, “to tell everyone the truth? She's gone. I don't want to be the guy who badmouths his dead wife. I might have been angry with her, I might have been hurt, but I never wanted her to die.”

“Of course you didn't.” Lizzie's heart melted, looking into his face, so closed against emotion. “And you don't want anyone to think badly of her, because what's the point, right? So you bottle all this inside and put on a smile for the world because Josh has to be the strong older brother and only son and town doctor and who knows what else.”

“Be careful,” he warned darkly, turning to face her, but she was glad of the spark of fire flickering in his eyes.

“You think I don't see it? Come on, Josh. We're more alike than you think. Russ Howard's daughter who can't make a mistake, who should look after her mother but keeps her in a home, who basically gets the boot from her job by her boss, who happens to be her ex? This is practically torture for a perfectionist like me.”