Island Girls (13 page)

So Liam had complied with Meg’s odd request after all.

Although it seemed more like Jenny was attaching herself to Liam than the other way around. As Meg watched, Jenny tripped, grabbed Liam’s arm to steady herself, and continued to hold on to him.

“—teach?” Serena was asking.

“Um, sorry, what?” Meg wrenched her attention back to the other woman.

“I was asking what you teach.”

They were walking up a hill, and their party had fallen into pairs: Arden and Tim, Zoey and Palmer, James and Manuel, Jenny and Liam, Serena and Meg. As they passed other houses, music and the scent of barbequed food drifted out, and from an open window, a baby cried. The night was fully dark now. It was after ten.

“Mostly freshman composition,” Meg answered. “I’ve had offers at universities, but I think community colleges are at the center of our country’s future. The population is changing. Lots of our citizens are from other countries. They both need and are eager for adult education. Their dream is to create a new life for themselves here. Oftentimes, language is the foundation of their success.” She caught herself. “Damn, way to sound pompous.”

“Not at all,” Serena said. “I’m impressed.”

They arrived at the Randall house, all of them sitting on the porch steps or leaning against the railings to empty their shoes of sand.

“That was fabulous,” James exclaimed. “Never saw better fireworks in my life.”

“Oh, honey, now you tell me,” Manuel joked.

Jenny announced, “I like to watch certain DVDs on certain holidays. I’ve got
Forrest Gump
, and
Armageddon
, and
Master and Commander
.”

“
Master and Commander
?” Arden hooted. “Isn’t that an English film?”

“Yeah, but believe me, Russell Crowe rocks that uniform,” James said campily.

They all filed into the house, heading for the bathroom, the kitchen, the den. Meg stood at the kitchen counter, cutting slices of angel food cake and drizzling fruit and sugary fruit juice over it. Arden made a pot of decaf coffee.

Jenny had disappeared.

So had Liam.

As the rest gathered in the den with their desserts, Meg asked casually, “Where are Liam and Jenny?”

“They said they wanted to walk into town,” Zoey told her, busy adjusting a pillow behind her back.

“Ooooh,
amor
,” Manuel hooted.

“Okay,” Arden asked. “Which DVD do we all want?”

Meg settled on the floor, leaning against the couch, an uncomfortable position, which suited her mood.

“Let me show you a special place,” Jenny said as they left The Juice Bar with cups of ice cream.

“Is it far?”

“Just around the corner.”

She led him toward the water, turned onto Easy Street, and walked to one of the three benches overlooking the small harbor enclosed by Steamboat Wharf and Old North Wharf.

The last big car ferry had arrived and unloaded. The steamboat lot was quiet for the night. In the cottages, lights glowed golden and music drifted from open windows.

Water lapped gently against the harbor wall.

“Nice,” Liam said.

Jenny nodded, her mouth full of ice cream.

“Meg said she used to come here every summer as a young girl,” Liam commented. “But when her parents got divorced, she couldn’t come anymore.”

Jenny sighed a deep, obvious sigh. “Tell me about you,” she suggested. She angled her body toward him. “You’re some kind of genius, right?”

Liam sniffed. “Hardly. Some kind of geek is more like it.”

“Meg’s in awe of you.”

She heard him draw in a deep breath. “Well. Awe is not exactly what I’m going for.”

Jenny smiled. “Okay.” She ate some ice cream, thinking. “You’re certainly handsome,” Jenny said matter-of-factly. “And the two of you share the same interests. You’re younger than she is, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but so what? Lots of guys are younger than their girlfriends.” With one deft move, he crushed his empty ice cream cup and tossed it into a trash barrel nearby. “If you only knew how tired I am of people judging me by my age. I never had any real friends in school because I was always younger than they were, plus they thought I was a freak.”

“Are you? I don’t mean a freak, but a genius?”

“I have a high IQ,” Liam admitted. “I’ve got a good facility for transposition. But I’m actually just a normal guy.”

“Who’s had a book published and earned a PhD by twenty-six.”

“I skipped a lot of grades in school.”

Jenny sat silently, organizing her thoughts. “Don’t you ever, because you’re so smart, want to, oh, I don’t know, change the world?”

“By which you mean go into science, cure cancer, or end world hunger?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Instead of teaching at a community college and writing books about poets.” He looked at Jenny. “You’re a computer geek, right?”

“I am. I totally get computers.”

“Plan to save the world?”

“Gosh, no. But then I’m not a genius. No, I’m happy enough doing work that helps other people keep their own work going on.” She grinned. “Plus, I like knowing secret codes and stuff that most people don’t know.”

Liam grinned back. “Yeah, I can see that would be fun. Kind of like I can read Greek.”

“That’s a profitable skill?”

“Not everything has to be measured by money.” Liam stood up. “I believe that by teaching at a community college, I
am
saving the world.” He stretched. “Now I’m sounding philosophical and boring. Let’s go back to the house.”

Jenny fell into step with him as they walked. “You and Meg …,” she began. “You’re in the same field. Are you ever competitive?”

“Not really. Professors don’t make much money. Since I have a PhD, I got shot to the top of the ladder. I’m a professor. A full
professor, with tenure. I’ll have a lot of input about the future of the department. Meg just has a master’s, and she’s ABD, all but dissertation, for her PhD. She’s published essays, but no books. This book she’s working on, though, just might make her name, might even make her some money. Certainly she could get some paid lecturing gigs out of it.”

“You’d like it if her book got published?”

“You bet. First of all, it’s a great thesis and subject. She’s an assistant professor now; this might elevate her to full with tenure. More than that, it would make Meg happy, and more confident. Then she might actually stop being such an insecure little beetle, skittering away whenever I come near her.”

Jenny let her head fall back as she laughed.

“Look.” Liam stopped walking. “Talk to her for me, will you?”

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Meg’s not going to listen to me.”

“Yeah, she will. She feels closer to you and Arden than she does to her half brothers.”

A handsome blonde woman in a stylish lime-green dress came from behind them, almost touching Jenny’s arm as she passed on the sidewalk. “Excuse me,” she murmured, her eyes lingering on Jenny.

Well, that was weird
, Jenny thought.

Liam was still talking. “She’s told me so, when we’ve talked on the phone over the past month.” He started walking again.

Jenny skipped a step to catch up with him. She didn’t want to let on how much his words delighted her. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“One of each.” Liam laughed. “My brother’s a marine, and you can imagine what he thinks of me, a literature professor. My sister’s
a doctor. If she wants to, she can curse so bad she breaks the china. She’s married to a doctor. They have two daughters.”

“You’re the baby of the family?”

“Oh, please, don’t use that word. I’m the youngest.”

“I’m the youngest, too. Well, not really. I’m the same age as Meg.”

They reached the house. As they went up the steps, their faces were illuminated by the porch light. “You know what?” Jenny asked. “I think you are amazingly handsome, and yet I don’t feel the slightest sexual interest in you.”

“Well, thanks for that. My self-worth continues to soar.”

He leaned toward Jenny, and for a moment she thought he’d taken her words as a dare and was going to kiss her. Instead, he said, “You’re not attracted to me because you’re in love with Tim Robinson. Surely you know that.”

Jenny bristled. “Oh, I am so
not
!”

Liam chuckled. “Sorry. It’s okay, then, that he and Arden are, um, getting along so well?”

Jenny followed his gaze through the window into the den, where Arden and Tim sat on the sofa, side by side, with Tim’s arm loosely draped over Arden’s shoulders and her head pressed against his chest.

“I couldn’t care less,” she told Liam. Opening the door, she entered the house and strolled into the living room, trying to look smug and satisfied. “We went to The Juice Bar.”

“Shhh,” James hushed her. “Steve Buscemi’s about to sit on the nuclear missile.”

Tim didn’t look at her. Meg, the third on the sofa, said, “Sit beside me, Jenny. I’ll squash over next to Arden.”

Liam settled on the floor, leaning against the side of a chair. Jenny wanted to say, casually, “No, thanks, I’m going to bed.” But
she liked the crazy movie, and she was not going to act as if she gave a fig that Arden was practically sitting on Tim’s lap.

“Thanks, Meg.” She squeezed in next to Meg and gave herself over to the movie magic.
Armageddon
it was.

The men went wild when the space tractor came over the hill, and everyone cheered when the crew made it back to earth. When Liv Tyler ran into Ben Affleck’s arms, Jenny choked back sobs until she realized Meg, next to her, was weeping openly.

“It gets me every time,” Meg confessed.

Jenny took her hand. “Me, too.” They sobbed together.

The movie ended. The room was still.

“I am totally exhausted,” James gushed. “Too many good-looking men in uniforms.”

“I want a space uniform,” Manuel pouted.

“I want to go to bed.” Tim stood up, stretching. “What a day.”

“It was fabulous,” James agreed.

The group rose, yawning, searching out blankets, pillows, water glasses, and finally calling out good night.

She wasn’t hungry. How could she be hungry after such a party? She shouldn’t eat, anyway, she was already too fat.

But she was restless. She turned on the light on her bedside table and tried to read. Her mind wouldn’t settle. The words flitted around, making no sense.

Liam and Jenny had been gone for over an hour, “getting an ice cream cone.” Oh, sure.

Yet, she’d been the one to send Liam straight into Jenny’s slender arms.

Okay. That was a good thing. That was the right thing to do.

Still, she was hungry.
Starving
. She didn’t want anything sweet. Something substantial, salty. Maybe some of that potato salad.

It was one o’clock. She crept out of her bedroom. The master bedroom door was shut, with James and Manuel sleeping. Jenny’s door was shut. Meg paused, holding her breath. No sounds coming from behind the door. So probably Liam wasn’t in there with her. Not that Meg cared.

She stole down the stairs. The house was dark and quiet. She passed the living room and heard Arden’s friend Serena sweetly snoring on the sofa.

In the kitchen, she took a moment to let her eyes grow accustomed to the dark. Opening the refrigerator, she scanned the contents; she squinted in the dim light. Plastic-covered containers were piled on one another. Beer and white wine lined the door. She shuddered. Maybe she wasn’t hungry after all.

She shut the door, turned, and stifled a scream.

Liam stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing only his boxers.

He said, “Hey.”

She said, “Hey.”

“What are you doing up?” he asked in a low voice.

“Hungry,” she whispered. “You?”

“Sunburn,” he told her. “Thought I’d look for some lotion.” He gestured toward the hall with his hand. “I looked in the bathroom down here. None there.”

“Right.” Meg couldn’t help staring at the man. His lean, lanky form carried an elegance in its very stance. He looked like a nineteenth-century poet. George Gordon, Lord Byron, without the clubfoot.
Oh, just kill me now
. “I have some upstairs in my room,” she said. “I’ll get it.”

“That’s okay. I’ll survive.” He started to turn away.

“No, really. You’re fluorescent.” She smiled easily, moving toward him. “Come on up. I’ll rub it on your back.” She put her hand on his wrist, intending to tug him along, but her fingers ignited when they touched his skin, sending heat scorching through her like a wildfire. She jerked her hand away.

She was hideously conscious of him following her upstairs. She wore a discreet cotton nightie trimmed with lace on the bodice. It fell below her bum, but she wasn’t sure it covered the tops of her thighs, especially from Liam’s point of view behind her.

Quietly, they went down the hall and into her room. Her bedside lamp cast a soft glow over the small room and her bed, with the sheets tossed back.

Liam shut the door. “So we don’t wake the others,” he explained.

Meg’s mouth was dry. “I’ll get the lotion.” She went to her dresser and searched among her makeup, jewelry, and creams.

Liam was bending over her desk. “What a great view.”

“Sit down. I’ll rub the cream in.”
What am I doing!
she silently screamed at herself. If she touched the man, she’d be lost.

She touched him.

Liam sank into the small cane-seat chair, crossing his arms on her desk. Her laptop, a closed silver rectangle, lay surrounded by piles of books and papers. “You work here.”

She dabbed lotion onto her fingertips, then gently swirled the lotion on his wide and rather bony shoulders. “I do,” she agreed, although she could scarcely speak.

“Ah,” Liam murmured. “That feels good.”

She smoothed the lotion onto the base of his neck, where it got caught in the ends of his thick golden hair. The knobs of his spine protruded against her hands as she spread the lotion down his back. His skin was hot to the touch. She knew from seeing him in his bathing suit earlier in the day that he had hair on his chest and belly but none on his back, but now she saw the lightest golden downy fluff where his boxers’ elastic waist met his spine. He had a mole by his right shoulder blade.