Tiny Island Summer (12 page)

“Probably not,” she admitted with a sheepish grin.

Eric nodded. “It’s a tough balance. I find that I’ll want to write for days and days and days without pause. But then I might go a week without being inspired at all.”

“Are you working on fiction then?”

“Trying,” he replied.

“I guess my problem is that I’ve spent years working single-mindedly on my career. It’s hard to turn that off. I struggle with it.”

“But you are on a break now.”

Darcy shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh. “I guess so.”

“If I don’t know you, and I’ve never met you before,” Eric continued, “then what was your confession.”

“My confession is that my friend put me up to coming over here. I’m thinking of getting a very small tattoo myself, but I don’t know of any places nearby. I was hoping that maybe you’d had yours done locally?”

Eric shook his head. “No, sorry. I had this done about fifteen years ago. But my buddy might know someone.”

Some flash of movement caught her peripheral vision and she lost focus on Eric. Darcy furrowed her brow in confusion until she finally realized she was looking at Char frantically waving. Eric turned in his stool to follow her gaze.

“Is that the friend of yours?”

“Yes. And I’m guessing she wants to leave,” she said with a slight wistfulness.

Darcy didn’t want to leave. Talking with Eric had been easier and nicer than she’d imagined when Char had put her up to it. But her liver had probably had as much alcohol as it could handle.

“Could you give me the name and number—of your buddy—by any chance?”

Eric frowned. “You want his number? Not mine?”

Darcy bit her lip and furrowed her brow. “Well, he knows the tattoo artist right?” She stammered her cheeks flushing as she understood what she’d said.

Eric chuckled. “Fair enough. But let me get your number instead, and I’ll text you what he tells me. Or maybe I can entice you to meet me in person for that information.”

“Sure,” she smiled as her heart began to race in excitement. She hadn’t been asked for her number in years. She wrote her cell number on another napkin and handed it back to him. He held her hand for a few seconds longer than necessary and the heat from his grip spread quickly through her entire body.

“Thanks,” he replied.

“Bye,” Darcy said a bit breathlessly.

She slid off the stool and floated over to Char by the entrance. Darcy kept her back to Eric as she left, all the better to let an entirely foolish grin spread across her face from ear to ear.

“John’s here,” Char said, and Darcy wordlessly followed her out to the road and into the car.

They had driven past the church on their way home before anyone spoke. Charlotte’s restraint in the face of Darcy’s giant, stupid grin was truly remarkable.

“Who
was
that?” Char gaped.

Darcy laughed and waved her hands nonchalantly as if superhot guys were always asking for her number. Darcy could see confusion in John’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

“Eric,” she said.

They looked at her expectantly. Waiting for her to continue, and after a little while she put them out of their misery and told them all about him.

“So . . .” John started again.

“Are you going out with him?” Char asked in a rush.

Darcy rolled her eyes and shushed her friend, worried about who might overhear, even though they were in a car with the windows rolled up. “Char, this isn’t middle school. We aren’t dating because we sat at lunch together.”

“But,” she continued after a moment, “he has my number, and, you know, we might meet up. I don’t know. It’s all in his hands,” she tried to sound nonchalant.

But how casual could a girl be when a good-looking man asked for her number?

“And that was it?” Char prodded the next morning.

“I think I need something stronger,” Darcy replied, looking down at the stale coffee in her mug.

She jumped off the bar stool in her kitchen, where for the past half hour she had been held captive, forced to relive and review her conversation with Eric for Char’s benefit. Darcy dropped her mug in the sink and turned to look at Char. But her best friend didn’t return her gaze. Char nibbled on her thumb, her eyes glazed over as she stared at something past Darcy’s right shoulder.

“Char, you coming? Do you want something?” Darcy asked.

“Wait? What? Huh?” Char shook herself and opened her eyes wide.

“I’m going into town. I need a mocha. Can we continue this conversation there? I need to get out. It’s a gorgeous day.”

“Oh, no, no, I can’t. John’s going to swing by to take me out in a bit.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrogate.

“I’ll see you later.”

“You’re not going to spend all day waiting by the phone, are you?”

“Me? I thought you would. You seem to be a lot more invested in this than I am.”

Char narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me for taking an interest in your life.”

Darcy bit her lip to keep from rolling her eyes. “I’m only teasing. But, you know, I’m taking some of your advice to heart.”

“You are?” Char crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

“Sure,” Darcy said with a shrug. “I’m not going to devote a lot of energy or stress on this. If he calls me, that’s great. If he doesn’t, that’s okay too. I have much bigger things to worry about in my life than this guy.”

“Really?” Char gasped.

“Char, I don’t have time to get . . . stressed about a guy again.”

Char opened her mouth to offer a retort but quickly shut it again.

“What? What is it?” Darcy crossed her arms over her chest.”

“Nothing,” Char shook her head.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Come on, out with it.”

“I was just going to say that you wouldn’t be so casual about this if it were . . .”

“Don’t go there,” Darcy held up her hands to stop her friend. “Don’t. Okay? You said I should be open to something casual and fun, right? If this guy calls me, that’s exactly the extent of the relationship.”

“But . . .”

Darcy closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “I know I don’t want to hear whatever you’re going to say. But say it anyway.”

“It looked like there was something between you and Ben. That didn’t seem so . . . casual,” Charlotte muttered.

“Doesn’t matter,” Darcy opened her eyes to stare directly into Char’s. “Okay? That doesn’t matter. Let me take you up on your advice. Let me try something fun. Everything in my life is upside down right now, thanks to Ben. I’m trying to move past all of that.”

Char nodded but kept her mouth shut.

“You sure you don’t want a mocha?” Darcy offered one more time.

“No, but thanks,” she said. “Are you actually going to get that tattoo? I mean, if Eric gives you the information?”

“Why not?” Darcy asked.

“Hello?” John’s voice called out.

Darcy froze, her mouth dropped open, and she locked eyes with Char.
How much had he heard?
Darcy bit her lip considering how incriminating her words had been.

Sorry
, Char mouthed as John walked into the silent room.

“Am I interrupting something?” John asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

Darcy forced herself to smile, and by habit she smoothed down her shirt and tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Just a coffee order. I’m going into town. Can I get you something?” Darcy continued.

John kissed Char on the cheek, and it struck Darcy how routine the gesture had become. Char leaned into him at the exact moment his lips made contact. It was casual and sweet.

“Sure, but do you want help? Can I carry it back with you?” John offered.

Darcy shook her head.

“No, no. That’s okay. I’ve got it,” she replied.

Darcy turned and left, grabbing her purse off the hook by the front door and nearly tripping over her feet as she forced herself out into the fresh air. She shut the door behind her and stopped it just before it slammed. Darcy took in a few deep breaths. Being interrupted by John and watching the intimacy between him and Char had her head spinning. Darcy closed her eyes, took in a deep breath of the fresh, pine-filled air, and put one foot in front of the other. The crunch of her steps on the gravel road relaxed her, calming her racing heart. She didn’t meet another soul along her walk into town, until she pushed open the door of the coffee shop and walked right into Eric.

“Hi.” Darcy said, startled. The impact had pushed her backward, but Eric reached out to grab her and right her.

“Hi,” he greeted her with a smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Darcy flushed and bit her lip. “It is the only coffee shop on the island.”

“Touché.”

Darcy nodded and smiled, unsure how to proceed. Would walking away from him be too rude? She shifted her weight uneasily from foot to foot. Despite Char’s worries, Darcy hadn’t been thinking about him. She hadn’t been up all night stressing about whether or not he would call her or what he thought about her. She’d fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep and hadn’t let herself stress out. But now, standing in front of him and seeing again just how handsome and cultured he is, Darcy wished she had. Maybe then she would have something to say. She wrapped her arms over her chest.

“Can I get you something?” Eric offered.

He turned to walk behind the counter. Darcy raised an eyebrow and her eyes darted around the room. She followed him, realizing for the first time since she’d walked in that they were entirely alone.

“What are you doing?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“I work here,” he whispered back.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Darcy puzzled aloud, her brow knitted in confusion.

“I’m not full time. Just as needed. What can I get you?”

“Two large black coffees and a large nonfat mocha.”

“Coming right up,” he replied.

Eric smoothly went about his work, Darcy involuntarily licking her lips as she watched.

“Are you on a job hunt today?” Eric turned to ask.

“No, I probably should be,” Darcy offered a rueful smile. She let herself relax, dropping her hands to her side and rolling her shoulders. “I’m giving myself a little time off for good behavior.”

Eric smiled back. “Good for you.”

Darcy leaned against her forearms on the counter. “To be honest, I don’t quite know what my next step is. And that’s . . . uncomfortable for me.”

Eric put the drinks on the counter in front of her, and she righted herself.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” he reached out to touch her hand. Darcy shivered at his touch.

“But don’t let that fear immobilize you,” he continued.

Darcy opened her mouth to speak, but she had nothing to say. He was right. Eric stopped stroking her hand and instead squeezed it.

The front door slammed against the wall with a violent bang. Darcy jumped back and turned to see a woman and a larger-than-life man carrying boxes and laughing. She put a hand to her chest and forced herself to slow her breathing.

“Sorry, did we startle you? If Eric was better at his job, he would have left the back door open,” the man’s deep voice boomed in the empty room. “But I’d settle for helping me unload the truck now.”

“I’m helping a customer, Ed. This is clearly why Emily never asks for your help at the store. No customer service.”

“Just come help me.” Ed grumbled.

“I can help you check out.” The woman called over to her. She smiled at Darcy and bounded behind the counter.

Eric walked back toward the front, brushing against Darcy as he did. He stopped and whispered into her ear. “This is the buddy I was talking about. I’ll get the name and number for the tattoo artist and I’ll text you.”

Darcy smiled and whispered back, “I’d like that.”

Darcy felt Emily’s eyes on her, but when she turned to look, the woman quickly averted her gaze.

“Can I get you anything else?” she offered.

Darcy smiled and flushed, suddenly self-conscious that someone had witnessed their conversation. “Um . . . maybe a few of those scones?”

The woman smiled, put three in a bag, placed the bag next to the drinks, and rang up the order. Darcy kept her eyes on anything but the woman and didn’t turn back to follow’s Eric progress. She focused on the inanimate objects closest at hand. When the front door’s overhead bell rang, signaling that the two men had gone back outside, the woman stared at Darcy until she looked up.

“He’s a good guy. One of the best, actually.” She never wavered in her eye contact.

“I know,” Darcy replied. “I like him.” Darcy fought the urge to squirm under the intense scrutiny.

“Okay. I think I’ve done my job scaring you off,” she replied.

Darcy let her shoulders droop. “Yes, you have,” she agreed.

The woman turned her back on Darcy, and she stifled a sigh of relief that the interview had ended. Darcy thought she’d done pretty well, all things considered. The woman pulled out a carrier for the beverages. Darcy handed over her money and as the woman returned her change, she added. “But, if there is something going on with . . . your neighbor . . .” she leveled her stare at Darcy and Darcy gulped. “You need to be up front with him about it.”

Darcy shifted her weight from foot to foot. How small was this town? She didn’t know this woman’s name, and yet this woman knew about Ben? Were there cameras installed on the streets? How did everyone seem to know her business?

Darcy sucked in a breath, squared her shoulders again, and looked the woman dead in the eye.

“Eric would be the first and
only
person I would tell,” Darcy retorted. “Thanks for the drinks.”

The woman nodded but didn’t return the smile. After a moment, Darcy saw herself out.

Despite his best attempts, Ben couldn’t get his brother’s words out of his mind.

“You need to go over and apologize to her,” John lectured his brother the moment he saw him that morning.

Ben had groaned, walked over to the coffee pot, and tried to fill his favorite mug, only to find it in a sink full of dirty dishes.

“You need to start cleaning up after yourself,” Ben growled back.