“Again, you definitely have life all figured out,” she says, her sarcasm scratching at my insides.
“You know what? You’re one to talk. I don’t see a ring on your finger either.”
“That’s just because the right man hasn’t come along yet. But someday I’m going to get married, and hopefully we’ll have a family and it’ll be wonderful. But you go ahead enjoying your short-lived, not-so-meaningful relationships.”
I give her a hard stare, then say, “You might be surprised to know I was married.”
“Really?” she says, looking genuinely shocked.
“Yup. For all of four years. She was a real go-getter like you. I had just started my own charter company when we met. Took out a big loan and bought a fleet of aircrafts. I was going to be the premier tour operator on the island when Hurricane Irene showed up and took everything out.” I glance out the window for a second before continuing. “She realized the safe money wasn’t with someone like me, it was with the insurance guy.”
Paige’s face falls. “She left you for your insurance adjuster?”
“Nope, the guy who owns the insurance company. At the exact moment when my life turned to shit.” I reach forward and stab another pancake from the pile, then let it flop onto my plate.
“Well, that was shitty of her, but it doesn’t meaneverywoman would do something like that.”
Pouring the syrup on it, I say, “I’m not blaming everywoman. But I learned my lesson the first time. One and done.”
Paige starts to speak again, but I say, “One and done,” in a firm voice.
She stares at me for a second, then shrugs.
Good. We’ve now reached the best part of the conversation. The end.
14
Enough Sexual Tension To Hold up a Suspension Bridge…
Paige
After supper,Mac finds a deck of cards, a Scrabble board, and Monopoly in the hallway closet, and insists I play a game or twiddle my thumbs or do anything I want other than help out while he does the dishes. I choose solitaire with a side order of glancing at him while he cleans up the kitchen. Then he has a quick shower and changes into some shorts and a t-shirt he found in the bedroom closet. They’re too big on him and they’re covering up far too much of his body for my liking, but hey, I guess I can’t expect the poor guy to walk around shirtless the entire time we’re here. After that, he brings me outside and helps me into one of the lounge chairs so I can elevate my ankle. Some crazy part of me is hoping he’ll decide to lay down next to me, but of course he doesn’t. Instead, he just gives me that look again—the one that seems to say all the things I want to hear from him but won’t—then he says, “I’m going to head back to the plane to get some supplies.”
“Can’t it wait until morning?” I ask, a little scared at the idea of being out here alone in the dark.
He shakes his head. “No. I have a much better first aid kit including ice packs and a couple of wraps. I want to get ice on that ankle tonight. Bring the swelling down if we can.”
Well, there he goes being all thoughtful again when I’m trying to remind myself of how surly he is by nature. “All right. Thank you.”
“I’ll be right around the corner. You can literally shout if you need me and I’ll hear you.”
“I’m not afraid to be out here alone.”
“Of course you’re not. You’re from New York.”
I chuckle a little, then watch as he disappears into the darkness. As soon as he’s gone, I let out a heavy sigh and stare up at the night sky. It’s bursting with stars again tonight and the moon is nearly full, leaving a white glow over the calm sea. I listen to the hypnotic sounds of the waves and feel the warm humid breeze that smells of saltwater. My life in New York seems like something out of a dream right now, even though it’s only been a few days since I left home. I think about Vivian, wondering if she’s worrying about me right now. She must be. She knows I would’ve texted her on the way to the resort from the dock to tell her all about the sexy pilot, and then again a dozen times after the wedding to fill her in on every detail. Desperation to talk to her sweeps over me, and for a second, I’m close to tears. I have so many things to tell her and no way of knowing if I’ll ever have the chance.
“I’m here,” I whisper into the wind. “I’m alive, my friend. Don’t worry about me.”
I stare up at the moon, watching as some clouds pass it by, listening for Mac, but all I hear is the sound of the waves and the crickets in the trees. I feel suddenly veryalone, and want him to hurry back. It occurs to me that it’s odd how quickly I’ve grown attached to a perfect stranger. I suppose going through everything we’ve had to face over the last day and a half will do that to you. You get to know someone very quickly in a crisis. And even more when they carry you really freaking far in their big, strong arms.
All the moments we’ve shared come back to me at once—the glances that turn into direct eye contact, the laughter, the moments of pure frustration. Then him talking about his marriage at supper.One and done.
There you have it. No chance of a relationship with Mr. Sexy Pilot, which is honestly a bit of a soul-crushing disappointment, because somehow, on an instinctive level, I know it would be the most incredible sex of my life. Like, all ten toes pointed up at the sky. I also know myself, and I’m not a fling sort of girl. I’m a mate-for-life bird.
I suppose the good thing is that I won’t humiliate myself by trying to make a pass at him. Not now that I know his heart is closed for good. But honestly, there have been moments today when he gives me a look that says he may be opening up to the idea of something. Something short-lived, but still. Wouldn’t it besomething? Maybe that’s exactly what I need right now—to just let myself go for once and have all kinds of fun so I can go home with the confidence of a woman who’s hadthat man. It would be a secret only I know. Well, except I’d tell Vivian, obviously. I’d be giving myself a memory of feeling beautiful. Maybe if I went home like that, I’d be much better off. Maybe I’d have the confidence to go out and find my mate-for-life.
Or is that just an excuse I’m making because I can’t seem to stop myself from thinking about him lying on this lounge chair with me and doing all sorts of things that I’ve been missing out on for far too long?Come on, Coast Guard, please come soon before I make a total fool of myself.
