Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel (16 page)

Ash looked up to the summer sky and saw a solo cloud passing overhead, the only brushstroke on an endless blue canvas. Suddenly, the truth hit him. He hadn’t seen it coming, but it stung and then spread hot and sad through his whole body—his life couldn’t have been more different from the ones lived on Bayberry Island.

He smiled wistfully, trying his best to reach back and find even the smallest detail from his first few years, the ones he’d spent with his parents. Was there ever a flicker of the kind of belonging the Flynns took for granted, a belonging of place and people? It pained him that he couldn’t remember, but he did know this—when he’d lost his parents, his world had shrunk. Ash’s life became the surface friendships he made at boarding school, his grandfather, and the kindness of Brian Martin and his family. The Martins often took Ash along on trips, opened their home to him on holidays, and came to consider him one of their own. It was probably the greatest stroke of luck Ash ever got, because when he was just nineteen and a sophomore in college, Grandfather Louis passed away. Brian and his family became Ash’s only anchor to the world. But that hadn’t lasted, either.

Now Brian’s brother, James, was the only one who remained. He was friendly enough and a competent chief executive officer, but the only time Ash saw him was at Oceanaire board meetings. James was ten years older than Brian and had his own wife and kids to focus on.

So where did that leave him? Ash knew his only thread of connection was cut when Brian died. There was no one alive now who shared a history with him, knew his secrets, his weaknesses, his potential. There was no one he could turn to in times of trouble, no questions asked.

“Don’t try number two, whatever you do. Dad said it nearly blew a hole through his esophagus.”

Ash was startled, but he laughed at the familiar voice. He glanced over to see that Clancy now stood at his shoulder, watching Frasier glad-hand the crowd. The police chief kept his eyes focused ahead, nodding as he gave Ash the insider’s guide to the Mermaid Festival Annual Chili Cook-off. “Number nine’s got some kind of unidentifiable mushroom in it, and the judges are only pretending to taste it. Dad plans to pull it before the public gets samples.”

Ash was surprised by this news. “You think they’re poisonous?”

“Ah, hell no. But two years ago some bozo put magical mystery mushrooms in his entry, and half the judges were sure they saw dolphins on roller skates by the end of the day.” Clancy winked. “But you can’t go wrong with number one. It’s been the winner for three years running.”

“I see. Sounds like the fix is in.”

Clancy chuckled. “Nah. That’s not how we roll.” Apparently, their short conversation had loosened up Clancy enough that he made eye contact with Ash. He smiled. “How’s your boat?”

“I’m waiting for a new engine. Sully said he ordered it from a guy he knows on the Cape.”

Clancy nodded in approval. “Probably old Clay Harwell in Hyannis. He’ll set you up. So, you finding your way around all right?”

“I am, thanks.”

“Anybody giving you a personal tour around the island?”

Now we’re getting somewhere
. Ash grinned at the lanky, dark-haired cop, thinking he was glad for another chance to chum it up. He genuinely liked Clancy, and of course, having his approval would make his job easier. Clancy could clear the way to getting closer to Rowan, and even Mona. “Are you asking me if I’m spending time with your sister?”

Clancy gave his gun holster a tug. Ash didn’t miss the message. “Are you?”

As much as Ash enjoyed this banter, he knew he needed to stay as close to the truth as possible with Clancy. Anything less would set off alarms. He might be a small-town cop now, but Ash knew he’d spent eight years as a patrol officer on the Boston police force and surely knew bullshit when he heard it. “I’d like to spend time with Rowan, but she’s been pretty busy. She told me I could take her around to grab a bite to eat in a little bit. Any suggestions?”

A frown appeared between Clancy’s brows. “Suggestions for what?”

“What she might like to eat. Hey, if I hadn’t run into you, I might have served her up a big bowl of number two.”

Clancy laughed loudly, and it sounded a lot like his dad’s guffaw. He then patted Ash on the back, which made him decide that the Flynn DNA was mighty strong stuff.

“You’re all right, Wallace.”

“Thanks.”

“Ice cream.”

Ash turned his full attention toward Clancy. “You mean to tell me that with all this food to choose from, she’s going to want ice cream?”

Clancy raised his chin. “Trust me on this one.”

That made Ash laugh. “Right. Let me guess—she’s allergic. Or lactose intolerant.”

Clancy shook his head. “No lie, man. I’m giving you a break here. If you fix Rowan up with some ice cream, she’ll be happy. If you buy her a butter pecan hot fudge sundae, she’ll start picking out your china pattern.”

Ash nearly choked on his own spit, and Frasier was upon them before he could collect himself. Clancy had done that on purpose.

“Dad, this is Ashley Wallace the fourth.”

“Ashton. The third.”

Frasier clasped Ash’s hand between his two beefy palms. “Nice to meet you, son. I hear you know a thing or two about old slate roofs. I’m impressed.”

“Nice to meet you, Mayor.”

Frasier slapped his back—a little too hard. Ash had the distinct impression he was being fucked with, by no fewer than two Flynn men at once.

The mayor dropped Ash’s hand and sighed. He lowered his voice by a wide margin and spoke to both him and Clancy, his eyes scanning the crowd for eavesdroppers. “Jesus H., boys. These are the worst entries I ever tasted. I need a cold one to wash away the taste of what I swear is shark piss.”

“So Ashley here wants to take Rowan on a date.”

Frasier’s head snapped around. He lowered his chin and locked his laser-sharp green eyes on Ash’s. He was sure the mayor was going to tell him to watch his back, but Frasier just laughed. “You got any set plans?”

“Well—”

“Get her ice cream.”

Clancy held his hands out. “See? Did I tell you I was giving it to you straight, or what?”

“Oh, it’s true.” Frasier’s eyes crinkled up with his smile. “The girl can go through a pint of Ben & Jerry’s like nobody’s business. Now, with that said . . .”

Frasier clamped a big hand on Ash’s shoulder, the same kind of warning grip he’d placed on Clancy for the family photo on Rowan’s mantel.

“My daughter’s been through a lot lately, so you treat her right and you’ll have no quarrel with me.”

Ash glanced toward Clancy and noted that his smile looked a little too gleeful.

“Well, sir, then I should be going. I promised Rowan I’d meet her at the booth about now.”

Frasier nodded and shook his hand again. “Ice cream. Don’t forget the ice cream.”

Clancy wagged his eyebrows. “Butter pecan sundae, man. I’m telling you straight up.”

“See you soon, gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure, Frasier.”

Ash probably should have been pissed at the display of territorial testosterone he’d just been subjected to. Under any other circumstance, he’d have met the two of them jab for jab. But he wasn’t some schmo looking for approval from a girl’s father and brother. Ash had a job to do: worm his way into the Flynns’ good graces and get them to sell. That was the whole reason he was here. And so far, the events of the day had brought him a lot closer to his goal. He decided to review the checklist of accomplishments in his head.

Had he made contact with Mona again and started a dialogue about the resort? Yes, he had.

Had he met Frasier and managed to get Clancy to relax a bit? Yes, and yes.

Was he about to woo Rowan with ice cream and, as a bonus, had she invited him to join her at the clambake? Oh yes.

Ash shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled into the middle of Main Street again, wondering why—if everything was going so great—he felt as if he were on the verge of disaster.

*   *   *

“You’ve got more hot fudge on your chin, Miss Flynn.” Ash leaned in and used the tip of his hot and silky tongue to scoop it up, then smacked his lips dramatically. When he laughed, Rowan realized she must be looking at him with giant, bugged-out eyes.

Her plastic spoon hovered in midair. It hung there a few seconds too many, and a blob of butter pecan, fudge, and whipped cream melted enough to fall onto her left thigh. From there it skidded down the inside of her leg to the weathered boards of the dock where she and Ash were perched.

“Now you’ve got some between your legs.”

“I’ve got a napkin.”

“And I’ve got a—”

“I know exactly what you’ve got.”

Ash tipped his head back and laughed, laughed, and laughed some more.

Rowan bit the inside of her cheek to keep from joining in, then set her cup of melting ice cream on the dock. Ash had been a lot of fun on this little outing. Incredibly sweet and flirty. Ballsy, really. He seemed to have no shortage of confidence. Rowan wouldn’t lie to herself—she found the combination of wit, playfulness, and bravado completely intoxicating. After only twenty minutes in his company, she felt drunk on it. Of course, the sugar hadn’t hurt, either.

“You’re wrong, you know.”

Rowan crumpled up the sticky napkin and shoved it into the ice-cream cup. “About what?”

“You don’t know the extent of what I’ve got.”

She shook her head and chuckled. “Does this routine work on most women?”

Ash gave her a crooked grin but didn’t reply, and Rowan realized just how stupid her question was—of course it worked. This man was so gorgeous that even if he were a complete tool he could have most any woman he wanted.

“I wouldn’t know.” His smiled faded and his voice went soft. “I’ve never tried it before.”

It was her turn to burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“No. I’m serious.” Ash reached over and grabbed her sticky hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’ve never been in this situation, to tell you the truth. I’ve never done things so totally ass-backward and been forced to retrace my steps and dig myself out of a hole.”

“You’re in a hole?”

“I’m in deep.”

“Hmm.” Rowan glanced down at their entwined hands. The skin on his forearm, wrist, and back of his hand was tanned, covered in a dusting of sun-bleached hair. He had long, elegant fingers, and she could feel the hint of calluses on his palm. “So how are you going to get yourself out? I mean, in addition to the ice-cream sundae, which was a stroke of genius.”

He chuckled. “Well, we’ve already taken the most important step—we’re talking. The way you stormed out of your apartment, I thought you’d never speak to me again. In fact, it seems like I’m getting to chat it up with the whole Flynn family today.”

Rowan unlaced her fingers from Ash’s and tried to keep her frown at bay. “You are?”

“Yes. I ran into Clancy at the chili cook-off and he introduced me to your father. And right before that, I spent some time with your mother. She’s very determined to fight those resort plans, isn’t she?”

Rowan leaned away. Ash seemed pleasant enough, but she suspected his encounter with Mona had been a lot more intense than he was letting on. “Did she molest you with facts and figures? Browbeat you into signing petitions? Make you want to run away screaming?”

“Pretty much.”

Rowan laughed then sighed, looking out past the marina to the ocean. “She’s obsessed with the resort. It drives all of us crazy. I know she doesn’t want to sell the Safe Haven, but lately she’s been totally focused on the environmental impact study, claiming it was fixed or something. Honestly, if the developer would just do another one, it might take some of the fight out of her. Sometimes . . .” She let her voice trail off. She heard herself sigh again. “Sometimes I wish she’d just give up. Agree to sell. It would make everyone’s life so much easier and . . . oh. I think I just ruined the moment. I’m sorry about that.”

Ash slipped his arm around Rowan’s waist, pulling close enough that their hips touched. She slowly raised her eyes to his, and
bam
! It was thigh-squeezing time. She let out a little whimper.

“Is this okay? Am I being too forward?”

Rowan laughed. “You’re being backward, remember? Digging yourself out of a hole? I told my friend Annie about you, and she recommended I do the same, just start from scratch with you. She called it a ‘do over.’”

Ash frowned a little. “You don’t have anything to do over, Rowan. It was my fault.”

“It was no one’s fault.” Rowan put a little more room between them and looked up into Ash’s face. “We’re both grown-ups, you know. I’m thirty years old and you’re . . . ?”

“Thirty-four.”

“The point is I should know better.” She sighed. “Look, it was probably a combination of things. My last relationship ended about two years ago, and it ended badly. I haven’t been with a man since.”

“That’s a long time.”

“
Yep
. So when you were there all naked and wet and slammed into me in the dark and everything, I didn’t have my defenses up.”

Ash nodded. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”