Summer on Lovers' Island (14 page)

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Authors: Donna Alward

BOOK: Summer on Lovers' Island
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Damn.
He truly hadn't realized he was that transparent.

Summer's gaze softened. “Besides, I remember how you used to look at your wife. You don't look at me that way. At all.”

“Jeez, Summer. Ouch.”

“That's why you asked me out, though, right? To make sure we're on the same page?”

He nodded.

“We are. Eat your soup. We can have a nice hour or so as friends, and that's that.”

Josh looked down at his bowl and laughed a little. “Why do I feel like you've just let me down easy?”

She reached across the table and put her fingers on his wrist. “Because I don't play games. I decided a long time ago that I would say what I think and be honest with people and not pretend to be someone I'm not. I'm much happier that way.”

He squeezed her fingers and then pulled away. “You're some woman, Summer. Some guy's going to be pretty lucky to get you. And you'll keep him on his toes, no question.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I doubt it. For some reason I seem to naturally repel men. I'll probably have to get a few cats in a year or two.”

“What, no hunky hotties at your yoga class?” he teased.

She laughed, and they both seemed to relax a lot more. “Way to stereotype. As a matter of fact, at my last Vinyasa class there was a firefighter there. At least that's what the bum of his shorts said. I made sure I put my mat behind him.” She fanned herself and winked at Josh. “And I probably stand a better chance of hooking up at yoga than you do in your office.”

Which immediately switched his brain back to Lizzie. She'd been her regular efficient self this morning, dressed in sand-colored trousers and a pink blouse under her white coat. Her hair had been up, as it usually was at work, and it was like the night before at the beach had never happened.

But he remembered. Remembered the wistful sound of her sigh, the heartbreak in her tears as she asked why it had to hurt so badly. He remembered the smell of her hair and the feel of her firm, toned body under his hands as he held her close, wishing there was some way he could take away her pain.

Whoa. What the heck?
He'd just tried to help … not get personally involved or care too much—

“You okay?” Summer asked, a wrinkle forming between her perfect eyebrows. “Where'd you disappear to?”

“Nowhere,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Now that we've set the record straight, we should finish eating before it all gets cold. Besides, I'm dying to try that avocado cake.”

They made it through the rest of the date just fine, but something stuck in Josh's mind. Or rather someone. Because Josh was sitting with a perfectly nice, perfectly attractive woman and all he could think about was Lizzie.

It was unexpected. And more than a little bit unwelcome. Particularly since she was so adamant that their association be 100 percent platonic and he'd already made plans with her to go out on the boat Sunday morning. It had seemed an innocent invitation, but Josh knew it wasn't as innocent as it should be. Because it hadn't been just a friend helping out another friend. There'd been a moment, more than one moment, last night when he'd considered tipping up her face and kissing away the tears that streaked down her cheeks, her soft lips puffy and swollen.

For the first time since returning to Jewell Cove, he wished he were attracted to Summer. He got the feeling it would have saved him a lot of headaches.

*   *   *

Lizzie was shocked at the amount of activity on the docks at seven forty-five on a Sunday morning. It appeared that the pleasure craft demographic was alive and well, with groups preparing to hit the water for the day, carrying fishing rods, coolers, or both. A lineup of tourists was ready for the first whale-watching tour of the day, while another company was preparing for a later-morning lighthouse cruise up the coast. The morning was crystal clear with a piercing-blue sky; the sun was already warm on her face with the promise of a scorcher ahead. On the water was the perfect place to be.

She put her hand up to shade her eyes as a smallish white boat approached the dock. It was easy to make out Josh at the wheel, his dirty-blond hair shining in the sun, aviators shading his eyes. He wore a white T-shirt with the sleeves ripped out that wasn't quite tight—but tight enough that it emphasized his muscled torso and arms. As he pulled into the dock, she saw he had on swim trunks. Orange ones, with tropical flowers all over them. She walked over to meet him, watching as he leaned over and kept the boat from bumping against the gray wood.

“My, my. If you aren't the very picture of summer.”

He smiled. His teeth looked extraordinarily white. Good heavens, he could be a poster boy for a Coppertone ad at this rate.

“And you look ready for a day on the water.”

She felt like a schoolgirl going out on a first date, and how ridiculous was that? First of all, she was a grown woman and getting all fluttery was silly. And this wasn't a date. It was spending the day with a coworker, a friend. There was nothing between her and Josh.

Which didn't explain why she'd painted her toenails last night, agonized over what swimsuit to wear under her clothes and what to pack in her oversized tote. Sunscreen, hairbrush, lip balm, water, beach towel …

He held out his hand to help her aboard, and she took it, knowing it would be far more conspicuous to refuse. She hopped into the boat, holding her balance as it wobbled from side to side just a little.

“Oopsie, there you go,” he said, steadying her with his hands and then stepping back. “Is there anything you need out of your bag? It'll stay drier if we tuck it in under the seat.”

“Oopsie?” she asked, giggling.

“Don't judge. It just came out.” He shook her bag, raising his eyebrows in a manner of repeating the question.

“Sunscreen?” she asked, shrugging.

“I've got some up here. Let's head out first, and when we stop for a bit you can apply.”

“Sounds good.”

She stowed her bag and took the other front seat, the interior surprisingly comfortable, as he pushed away from the dock and eased his way out into the harbor. She pushed her sunglasses up, shook her hair over her shoulders, and let out a big breath. She couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a day like this, one that was entirely for pleasure and escape. The closest she'd come was shopping with Charlie, but even that had a purpose. Today's only purpose was relaxation, and as Josh slowly made his way into the wider cove her muscles began to unwind.

“Ready?” he asked as they advanced through the cove. From out here she got a good glimpse of the small lighthouse at Refuge Point, the white shingle siding bright against the backdrop of the gray rock and scrabbly green bushes.

“Ready,” she replied, raising her voice to be heard over the motor.

Josh moved the throttle and the boat shot forward, gaining speed as he headed for the corridor that marked the departure from Jewell Cove into the wider, deeper waters of Penobscot Bay.

Lizzie gave a little whoop of surprise as he made a smooth turn to take them past a marker, and the wind blew her hair back from her face. Oh, the freedom of it! Josh looked over at her and grinned and then gave it a little more gas so that they were flying out over the waves, bobbing over the crests, bottoming out on the slight waves just enough that it was a little bit rough and wild.

“Okay?” he shouted over, and she nodded. It was more than okay. It was exhilarating, even the jarring thump as they moved into open water and larger waves.

For several minutes they headed away from shore until the light at Refuge Point was just a speck and the coastline was a blur of gray and green. Spray flew up over the side of the boat and misted her skin, the salt water soft and refreshing. “Where are we going?” she called over, and Josh pointed a finger ahead of them.

An island, a hazy dark form, met the horizon. This, then, was the great “hidden” island he'd told her about, the one with the Indian name she couldn't remember but the nickname she could—Lovers' Island. The boat bobbed over the waves as they moved closer and closer, and features of the formation became clearer. It wasn't big; unless it stretched out long and narrow behind what she could see, it couldn't be more than half a mile in diameter. A wide, sandy beach gave way to rugged white and gray rocks, with straggly evergreens and bushes weathering the rough sea winds. Josh pulled to the right, circling it slightly.

It looked untamed and lonely and isolated, and Lizzie was suddenly aware that there wasn't another person for miles. It wasn't really an uncomfortable feeling, but more … intimate. Private. She swallowed and felt a familiar tension low in her belly. She didn't want to be attracted to Josh, but the very idea of being alone with him, like this, without a living soul around …

Just the possibility was enough to tempt her.

She was searching the shoreline for interesting birds when Josh steered closer, pointing at a stretch of the shore that appeared to be a pile of gray rock. “Look!” he called, edging them in, and suddenly she saw what he was pointing at. Seals, well over a dozen of them, sunning themselves on the rocks. Delighted, Lizzie went to the side of the boat and watched them flop across the hard surface, adorable black eyes staring back at her.

She laughed as two popped up near the boat, just their heads above the water, as if investigating who might be disturbing their Sunday morning.

“They're so cute!” She looked at Josh and grinned widely. “And there are so many of them!”

“More now than there used to be. A lot of people say that the increase in the seal population is what's bringing the great whites this far north.”

She moved away from the edge of the boat a little and he laughed. “Relax,” he said. “I've been in these waters a long time and I've yet to see one.”

They watched for a few more minutes, and then Josh increased his speed and pulled away, moving them away from the island.

“Where are you going?” she asked, raising her voice slightly as he sped up, cruising past the south side of the island and into more open water.

“I'm going to take you fishing, just like I promised,” he said, grinning. “The depth out here is perfect.”

She raised an eyebrow, slightly disappointed they weren't going to visit the mysterious island. She was sure there was more to enjoy than just seal watching. “You were serious about that?”

He laughed. “Of course I was.”

She sat, curious, as he picked his spot, cut the engine, and let them drift on the waves. “Now'd be a good time to put on that sunscreen,” he suggested. “I know it's midmorning, but it can get pretty intense on the water.”

While she applied the cream to her legs, arms, and face, he retrieved rods and tackle. The sun was beaming down and warming the top of her head, so she took a ball cap from her bag and pulled her ponytail through the back. He handed her a fishing rod, which she gripped rather awkwardly. She'd done a lot of crazy things, but she'd never done something as simple as going fishing in her life.

“This is a jig line,” he explained. “More than one hook, see?” He showed her briefly, then demonstrated how to work the reel. “You're going to cast, like this.” He cast out from the boat, the line whirring until it hit the water with barely a plop. “Let your line drop until you feel it hit bottom. Then you lift, and reel a little bit. Lift, reel. Like this.” He lifted the end of the rod, reeling in some line, lowering it again. He'd only done so twice when he grinned. “And I've got something on the line. Ten bucks says it's a pollock.”

“You've been here lots before.”

“After a while you learn the best spots and depths for certain kind of fish. Pollock is one of our favorites. Nice and mild, beautiful when it's fresh.”

She watched as he patiently brought up the line, saw the tip of the rod bend under the weight of the fish. When it was nearly up, he held the line with his hand and brought it over the side of the boat. Two silvery fish, each just over a foot long, wiggled on the line.

“You got two!” She watched, fascinated, as he took them off the line and threw them back.

“You're not keeping them?”

“We'll get bigger ones and put them in the live well. I'll take the extra back home and give some to Mom and the girls. Sometimes on the weekends the guys come out with me and we have a big fish fry in the evening.”

“That sounds fun,” she said, watching as he reset the line.

“It is. Mom makes these great potatoes with garlic and parsley butter, and in another few weeks there'll be vegetables from Sarah's and Mom's gardens. You should join us for one of those.”

It sounded lovely … and a little too familyish for her liking. She was supposed to be keeping her distance and not getting overly involved, wasn't she?

He smiled at her. “Pan-fried it's great. But my favorite is when Sarah makes her beer batter and we have homemade fish-and-chips.”

What a perfect life he seemed to lead. And it was all well and good for now, she supposed. But eventually she knew she'd start missing her condo and restaurants with real cloth napkins and a wine list. Heck, even a movie theater or a club would be a huge step up.

“Now you try,” he said, putting the rod in her hands. “Use this to release the line as you cast, then get a feel for it as it drops.”

Her first cast only went about thirty feet, but Josh said that was okay and to carry on. She didn't catch anything but got familiar with the rhythm of lifting the rod and reeling in the slack.

“Try again,” he suggested. “Fishing isn't something done in a rush. It's like you have all the time in the world.”

This time her cast went out a little farther and before long she felt a pull and jerk.

“I think I've got something!”

Josh's grin was wide. “Awesome. Don't rush. Just be smooth, lift, and reel.”

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