“That’s Austin’s story to tell,” she said softly, her voice firm but kind. “It’s not mine to share. I’m sorry.”
My cheeks flushed as if I’d just read a page from her private diary. Of course she wouldn’t betray her brother’s confidences. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay.” Brenna reached across the table and patted my hand, her warmth chasing away some of the chill that had settled over me. “Listen, Iris. Austin is complicated. You’ve seen that already. But he’s the best man I know. He deserves some happiness. He’s been on his own for too long.” Her gaze sharpened with sisterly affection, and her smile returned. “I’m not going to pretend I’m not surprised, but it’s high time someone besides his family breached those walls. And we haven’t been friends all that long, but I think I know you. I’m glad that someone is you.”
Tears welled in my eyes. I dabbed my napkin at them, feeling a little silly. “Thank you for saying that. Your friendship already means a lot to me. And Austin does too. Cranky, perfectionist tendencies and all.”
That made both of us laugh, ending the serious moment. She took a bite of her burger. “Come on. Eat.”
As we finished our meal, my mind whirred.
After we paid the bill, Brenna gave me a smile. “I should get back to the bookstore. But don't be a stranger, okay?”
“I won’t. Thanks for the tour, Brenna. And for, you know, the burger and everything.”
“Anytime. Honestly, Iris, you’ve given me a lot to think about today. Good things.” She paused, her expression thoughtful. “I’m happy for you. And for Austin, too, even if he is a stubborn grump who doesn’t know what’s good for him half the time. He’s got a good heart under all those barnacles. He just doesn’t let many people see it.”
Her eyes held a silent message, a clear, sisterly plea.Be patient with him.
I nodded, understanding the unspoken request. “I’m starting to see that.”
She waved at me through the window as she walked away. I returned it as I sat at our table, processing. I was truly happy to have made real friends, to feel the first tentative threads of community weaving around me.
But this new feeling of belonging now competed with a profound, gnawing unease. This was no longer a simple case of winning over a grumpy man with good cookies and a stubborn spirit. Austin had experienced a significant trauma that still affected his sister and probably his whole family, not just him.
“What happened to you, Austin Coleridge?” I whispered to my empty iced tea.
Chapter Eighteen
AUSTIN
WorkingonLine Dancerusually settled something deep inside me, a mechanical meditation that smoothed the frayed edges of my thoughts. But as I hosed down the deck with the sun setting behind me, the familiar scent of salt and diesel offered no comfort.
I retreated to the boat’s tiny cabin, a space usually reserved for paperwork and refuge from sudden squalls. It was my sanctuary within a sanctuary. The neat berth contained a double bed and a tiny marine head. On the other side, a desk where I logged my trips and repaired my reels stood next to a minuscule galley. It was all me, all orderly. But the confined space offered no escape from the relentless replay of the last few weeks.
Her laugh. Her passion. The way her hip flared and dipped.
The terrifying, exhilarating plunge into something I hadn’t realized I was starving for. And couldn’t get enough of.
My phone buzzed on the desk, the sound unnaturally intrusive in the quiet cabin. I stared at Brenna’s name on the screen, a knot tightening in my gut. Brenna didn’t usually call just to chat on a Friday evening. I let it ring twice more, a small act of futile defiance, before swiping to answer. “Brenna.”
“Well, hello to you too, Captain Sunshine,” her voice came through the phone, but with an underlying, sing-song quality that immediately put every one of my defenses on high alert. “I was just calling to see how you were. And to mention I had the most interesting afternoon yesterday.”
“And you need to tell me about it?” I dropped into the desk chair, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I gave your neighbor a little tour of Dove Key,” she continued, her tone deceptively casual, as if she were commenting on the weather. “Iris is really lovely, Austin. So full of life and enthusiasm for that old house.”
Oh, hell.
I didn’t realize they knew each other. How did that even happen? The island was small, but not that tiny.
“That’s nice, Brenna.” My response was flat, clipped, a verbal dead end designed to shut down this entire line of conversation before it even began.
But Brenna had never been one to be deterred by a dead end. She just saw it as an opportunity to find another route. “It was. We had a good time. And she mentioned you two have been spending some time together. That was… interesting news, Austin.”
I could picture my little sister perfectly, sitting in her cozy, book-lined office at the shop, that knowing, perceptive, infuriatingly gentle smile on her face. She was tossing out her line, and I was the damn fish, already feeling the insistent prick of the hook.
“She’s my neighbor,” I said, the words stiff. “We livenext door. It happens.” It was a weak defense, and we both knew it. It sounded flimsy even to my ears.
