Those Cassabaw Days (22 page)

He’d lost Emily once. He couldn’t lose her again. She’d reached him. That place inside of him that even his own family hadn’t been able to touch.

She’d found the old him. The old Matt. And strangely enough, he’d missed the hell out of him.

Matt grinned as Emily’s stomach rumbled, and he hugged her close. “Your stomach is about to wake up the river. Let’s go eat.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” she giggled.

At the end of the dock, Matt twirled Emily around once more, and dipped her proper.

“For someone who doesn’t dance you don’t do too bad, son.”

Emily and Matt both jumped at the sound of Nathan’s voice, and he came lumbering up from the trail. He met them at the veranda steps and propped a foot up, a grin on his handsome face. “Am I interrupting anything?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

M
ATT WAS GOING
to strangle Nathan in his sleep.

He’d never even see it coming.

Matt’s glare at his older brother would’ve made most grown men balk. He knew it. Prided himself in it. Not to mention his intimidation had been more than useful in the marines. It’d spared him a lot of unnecessary bloodshed.

Nathan simply gave him a crooked grin.

“Of course you aren’t interrupting anything!” Emily said in a hurry. “We’re just making out and dancing to some of my old vinyls.” She grinned and twirled. “Your brother is an exceptional kisser. Wanna give it a try?” she asked Nathan. “The dancing, I mean?”

Nathan’s gaze eased to Matt, who glared even harder. Nathan laughed. “Thanks, Emily, but I’ll take a rain check.” He nodded toward Matt. “I actually need my little brother’s expertise on my truck.”

Matt simmered. He’d told Nathan he’d help him later that night. Right now he was just being nosy and irritating as hell.

“I will remind you later,” she smiled. Her eyes moved to Matt’s, and in the light of the porch they seemed larger than usual, softer. Wearing that old hat she’d bought from old man Catesby, with her hair pulled back and tucked beneath it, she kinda looked like a girl from decades past.

She quirked her lips and crossed her eyes.

He smiled. She looked ridiculous.

Ridiculous and beautiful.

“If you two finish up in time the fellas and I are working on the penny counter at the café,” Emily said as they started for the path. Matt eyed her over his shoulder, and she gave a sweet wave as she leaned against the post on the veranda.

“We’ll be there,” Matt called back. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

“Nice hat, Em,” Nathan called out.

“Thanks!” she hollered back. “Bye, boys.”

“Only I call her Em,” Matt said.

“Hey,” Nathan said. He matched Matt’s stride as they made their way to the garage behind the Malones’ river house. “What’s eatin’ you, bro?”

Matt kept walking. “Nothing.”

Nathan swore under his breath. “Always nothing, right?” He gave a sarcastic laugh. “Man, if you love her then just—”

“If I want your advice I’ll ask for it.” The last thing he needed was relationship therapy from Nathan.

In the darkness, his brother snorted. “So you do love her. I knew it. That means you’ve made your mind up to stay on Cassabaw, right?” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Matt. “Despite whatever is in this?”

They’d just stepped off the path and into the edge of the Malone property. Matt rounded on his brother and grabbed a fistful of T-shirt at his neck. Nose to nose, they eyed each other. “Back off, Nathan. I mean it.”

Nathan, who was easily as big as Matt, shoved him off. “Don’t throw that tough-ass marine crap at me, junior. I don’t intimidate.” He put his hands on his hips, stared at the sky and looked back at Matt, who stood still to keep from lashing out at him again. “What’s the problem, Matthew? You used to talk to me. About everything. Now?” He shook his head. “You keep everything crammed into that concrete jarhead of yours, and you’re like a walking firecracker, fuse lit, ready to explode.” He pointed at him. “And it’s starting to piss me off. Now talk to me. I know what I saw. In both of your faces. And it is sheer, unadulterated love. Now you have an envelope, and I know for a fact there can’t be much good inside of it. You’re not leaving, are you? Leaving Emily?”

Matt kept walking, the envelope burning in his palm, and he continued storming toward the marsh, the familiar, pungent scent clinging to the air, and his skin, the inside of his lungs as he breathed. Nothing would calm him.

“Did you hear me?” Nathan said, following close behind. “Matt! Freaking stop, will ya?”

At the water’s edge, Matt picked up a chunk of oyster shell and hurled it. With a plop, it landed. Several marsh birds screamed.

“You can keep it all bottled up if you want to,” Nathan said, coming to stand beside him. “But you’d have to be a blind man not to notice the way you two are with each other.”

“We’re best friends. More than that.”

“Uh-huh,” Nathan agreed. “And never have I seen two people click the way you guys do. Jesus Christ, Matt—the tension that hangs in the air constantly with you two is ridiculous. It’s a struggle for you not to constantly touch her. I can see it in your face.”

“Ugh,” Matt growled, and rubbed his head with his hand. He grasped the back of his neck with both palms and stared at the sky over Morgan’s Creek. “I’m gonna screw everything up, Nathan. You don’t understand.” Matt closed his eyes, swore, then looked at his brother. “This envelope? It changes everything. It’s my job. It’s who I am. I have to respond. And you, Dad, Jep, Eric, Emily? You can’t know anything.”

The faint strings and horns of an age-old orchestra from decades past floated over the marsh. Emily was playing her thirties vinyl on the record player, and something surged within him. Something he couldn’t identify.

Or just wasn’t ready to identify.

“What don’t I understand?” Nathan rounded on him, but his usual calm voice settled his frustration. “That a long time ago you met your soul mate in the girl next door. Then you lost her.” He put his hands on his hips. “And now she’s come home. You’ve come home. And despite how hard you bucked her, and no matter what kind of hard-ass shit you threw at her in the beginning, with your sour-ass looks and short answers and fierce soldier face, you didn’t scare her away. You didn’t intimidate her.”

Nathan grasped Matt by the shoulder and squeezed in that brotherly way he frequently did. “You love her. And now you’re going to let the contents of an envelope keep you from Emily? And you still haven’t answered my question.” Nathan exhaled, looked away, then back at him. “You’ve been given a second chance with a girl most guys would kill to have.” He inclined his head toward her home. “Seriously, bro. Listen to that. I mean she’s different, Matthew. She listens to old twenties and thirties music on a record player, wears an eighty-year-old hat and pulls it off, and can bake? Like, bat-shit crazy bake?” He grinned, and the light shined off his teeth. “She’s smart. Beautiful. Funny as hell. And she’s crazy about you.”

“Maybe she’s just crazy about the past I represent?” Matt said. “Maybe when she thinks of me it takes her back. To before her parents died. Before she had to leave here.”

“Yeah,” Nathan replied sarcastically. “Seriously? You think that’s why she’s crazy about you?” He pointed toward her house. “That’s Emily, man. Your Emily. She’s as real as they come. And you know that’s what’s most important. You’re both back, on Cassabaw. Here. Now.” He ducked his head. “Are you staying?”

Matt squatted down, rested his forearms on his thighs and stared out over the moonlit marsh. The envelope weighed heavy in his hands. “I don’t know.”

Nathan’s brows furrowed. The muscles in his jaws flexed. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Matt sighed in frustration. “As a soldier, I knew who I was. I knew my role. As a civilian?” He shrugged. “I got nothing. No direction. Just a part-time handyman job for the girl next door—a job that’s almost finished.” He listened to the tide lap against the saw grass. Somewhere close by an oyster shoal bubbled and gurgled. Low tide.

Nathan squatted beside him and in the vague shaft of afternoon light, with Emily’s vintage music sweeping over the marsh, he met his older brother’s quiet gaze. “I’d rather only have her for a little while than not have her at all.” He returned to the creek. “I can’t just bum around from one local pissant job to the next.” He shook his head and threw another oyster shell. “No damn way. I have my pride. And I want Emily’s respect. There’s just nothing for me here.”

Nathan let a long, deep sigh release, and he clapped Matt on the shoulder and rose. “There is. You’re just so filled with that goddamned pride you can’t see it.” He shook his head, gave a short, sarcastic laugh and looked at him. “Well, little brother,” he said, “you are one selfish bastard.”

He turned and headed up to the house, then stopped and strode back to him. Nathan glared. “You don’t think we’ve all noticed how you haven’t even unpacked your belongings? Hell, you keep that military-issued duffel packed and by your door, like you’re ready to haul ass at any second. Yet you carry on with Emily like you’re promising her the future!”

He shook his head, turned and started walking, but called over his shoulder, “If you’re leaving, then set her free, Matt. Don’t lead her on. Jesus Christ, man.” He turned his back and continued walking. “It’s not fair to her. After all she’s been through, losing her parents, leaving Cassabaw? She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves to be happy. To have someone who deserves her to share a life with. Not to be alone, pining after you.”

Matt stared at his brother’s retreating back until he disappeared. Then he continued to sit by the marsh, listening to Emily’s record player and thinking on Nathan’s words. He was right. Dammit, he was. About everything.

He always was, it seemed. It’s why he’d confided in Nathan, with so many things. Then, he’d stopped, and like Nathan had said, he’d kept it all bottled up. He didn’t want to burden anyone with his problems; he was a problem solver. He was who the men in his company had come to for answers. Where to go. What the next step would be if the mission failed.

Who to target.

Matt had made those decisions without any doubt. He’d made them soundly. Swiftly. Yet he wrestled with two of the most basic of decisions—one most men wouldn’t give two shakes about. What to do with his life. And where to go to find it.

Jesus Christ. What sort of man was he? Not the kind Emily deserved. That much he knew. Now he could see it. He was a selfish bastard. And no matter how much he didn’t want to hurt Emily, she would be. It was unavoidable. Without opening the envelope, he knew it. And he hated the hell out of it.

* * *

W
HEN
M
ATT
WALKED
into the Windchimer, everyone was there. Jep and his dad; Mr. Wimpy and his gang, as well as their wives. Eric and Nathan were there, too, and they all had a place at the counter, each with a pile of pennies, setting them in place.

Matt stood, admiring what Emily had turned the little beachside café into. Every whimsical Gatsby touch was distinctly Emily’s, including the penny counter. Once they finished up tonight they’d apply the first of three coats of polyurethane.

“Whoa! There’s the jarhead!” Ted hollered, and patted the stool beside him. “Get your ass over here, boy, and get busy.”

Emily found him as he crossed the dining floor, and smiled. Never had he seen a happier person in his life. It literally poured out of her face, streamed right out of those beautiful eyes, like someone had corralled moonlight and stored it inside of her. She was a magnet.

Matt claimed the seat next to Ted and started setting. The walls of the café seemed smaller somehow. As if he was stuffed in a bunker with barely any shoulder room. He breathed, slowly and inconspicuously. In. Out.

Get a grip, Malone.

“Hey, sourpuss,” Ted said beside him. “What’s with the long face?”

When he glanced up, he found Nathan watching him closely.

Matt cleared his throat. “You know,” he said and continued setting the pennies he’d piled up beside him. “Just one of them days, sir.”

Ted slapped him on the back. “Yep, yep,” he said. “Soldier to soldier, I know what you mean, boy.” He sighed. “Rough times.”

“Yes, sir,” Matt agreed.

Soon, they were pennies away from finishing.

“Emily, get down here,” Jep called out. She climbed from her stool and moved to stand between him and Mr. Wimpy. “Here you go.” He handed her five pennies. “One for each year those grandsons of mine were born, plus one for you and your sister.”

“Aw, Jep,” Eric said, kissing his grandfather on the cheek. “You’re so sweet!”

“Get off me, boy!” Jep hollered.

Everyone laughed.

Emily accepted the pennies in her cupped hand, glanced once at Matt and wiggled her brows and began setting them in. After the last one, she looked up and everyone cheered.

“Woo-hoo!” Eric hollered, then let out a shrill whistle.

One by one, everyone left until only Matt and Emily remained.

She came to stand next to him, slipped her long, slender fingers through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Supergreat, huh?”

“It is amazing, Em,” Matt said, and turned to her. “So are you.”

“Shucks, boy,” she teased, and play-slapped his chest. “You’re such a sap.”

He was a sap. He was many other things, too. Only she didn’t realize it quite yet.

He inclined his head. “Race ya home?”

She grinned. “You’re on.” She took one last look around the café and gave a nod. “It’s perfect, Matt. It’s exactly how I pictured it to be.” She turned her face up to him then, and the beauty of it knocked the wind from his lungs. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.”

Like the selfish bastard he was, he kissed her then. He let his lips linger over hers, settle as though they’d found their place, found a home, the most perfect of spots.

He only wished it were true about himself.

He followed her to the river house. Never had a feeling of dread taken more complete control over Matt. Never in his life.

Winding down Emily’s drive, he stopped by the porch and they both got out. She walked up to him, threw her hands around his neck and hugged him tightly. “I’ll see you in the morning?” she asked, kissing his neck.