“Gigi sleeps like a tranquilized elephant and never has any idea what time I come home.”
His eyebrows rose at her scandalous intentions. “Why, Miss Chambers, are you suggesting that we stay out past curfew?”
“I am. I would like to exercise a little independence of my own on this Fourth of July holiday. So how’s about a little star-spangled romance at your hotel?”
“I like the way you think.”
“And as I’ve mentioned before, I like the way you do a whole bunch of stuff.”
“You are so smart, Emily Chambers. You were absolutely correct. Private fireworks are far superior to public fireworks,” Ryan said with a satisfied smile as he rolled over in his hotel bed, pulling Emily with him. She was soft and warm and so delicious, he could already feel his body stirring again, but first, a bit of rest. That had been quite a workout.
She stretched like a cat in the sun next to him. “I am smart, and I especially liked that grand finale.”
“Thank you. I tried to include a little something extra since it’s the Fourth of July.”
“How very patriotic you are,” she said with a giggle.
“I am all for the raising of the flag.”
Lying in a hotel bed, tangled up with Emily in his arms, Ryan was feeling all kinds of wonderful. Being with her was so natural and easy. Not the take it for granted kind of easy, but rather, the honey, I’m home kind of easy. Maybe it was just all the public displays of affection he’d seen today, or maybe it was because he’d been without a relationship for a long time, but deep down this felt . . . right. He also knew, deep down, that it wasn’t because of either of those other things. And it wasn’t just from positive associations, and it wasn’t just random chemicals zooming around in his head. It was Emily. It was her laugh and her smile and her enthusiasm for her work. It was the way she interacted with her daughter. It was simply everything about her. Ryan was an opportunities guy, and if his mother were alive, she’d say, “Ryan, you should marry that girl before she gets away.” Of course, it was far too soon to be thinking such things, but he was thinking them anyway.
“Emily?” he asked softly, wondering if she’d drifted off to sleep. The room was dark except for the glow of some streetlamps. They’d left the windows open, and a soft breeze set the curtains to dancing a slow waltz back and forth.
“Hmm?”
“I like you.”
He felt her chuckle more than he heard it, but she lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled down at him. “I like you, too.”
“I seem to like you quite a bit.”
She nodded. “Same.”
“I’m not sure what to do about that. About . . . us. I just know I’d like there to be . . . some kind of us. You know?”
Her smiled faded and her expression matched the emotions he was feeling. Uncertainty about their odds, but earnest in their hope to make it work.
“Same.”
He could feel her heart beating against his chest as he pulled her over on top of him, like he wanted to be surrounded by her in every possible way. Her hair fell around his face like a curtain, keeping them hidden from the world.
“There’s something I should mention, probably.” She stared down at him in the dim light. “I’m thinking about moving back here. To the island.”
“You are?”
“Chloe wants to. I seem to be in kind of a nice place with my family, which I haven’t had in years, and Gigi wants me to renovate more of her cottages. We even talked about buying that cottage down the hill from where I’ve been working.”
He knew which one she meant. He knew instantly, but she kept talking.
“Mrs. O’Malley, the fossil who owns that little pink house, hasn’t been looking so well at church lately, and Gigi thinks we could pool our money and buy it as another rental for her, but I don’t know. It’s just an idea.”
She couldn’t buy that place because Taggert Property Management already owned it. He should tell her that right this minute, but he had clients to consider. And Emily moving home wasn’t contingent on that one place. If it was, then certainly he’d tell her. He knew a solid plan from a fanciful speculation. Like she’d said, it was just an idea.
Even so, he felt a little guilty. He wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t. A contract was binding. He’d figure something out, some way to explain it to her, but not right now, because right now, Emily was smiling down at him, her expression full of invitation.
“In the meantime,” she said, “until we figure out what to do about us, I suggest we just keep doing this.”
Then she kissed him, and he agreed.
Chapter 28
“So the cat’s out of the bag, the fox is in the henhouse, the shit has hit the fan,” Ryan said to Bryce over the phone. “I’m not sure which of these phrases suits the situation best, but the bottom line here is that Chief of Police Harlan Eldred Callaghan now knows that our father is banging his daughter.”
“Dude,” Bryce said, his voice scratchy from sleep. “Do you have any idea what fucking time it is here?”
Ryan glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was 7:00 a.m. “Oh shit. Sorry. Forgot about the three-hour time difference. Good morning. Thought you’d want to be the first to hear the news. Well, actually you’re the first person who isn’t physically on this island to hear the news. As far as the people around here go, I think everyone now knows.”
“Dude, seriously, could we talk about this later? I’m in REM sleep.”
“Can’t talk later. I’ve got to shower, and then I’m taking Chloe and Emily out for breakfast before we go see the reenactors at the fort.”
“Who is Chloe?”
“Emily’s daughter.”
“Who is Emily?
“Lilly’s sister.”
“Who is Lilly?”
“The gold-digging bimbo. Did you take an Ambien? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“It’s four o’clock in the morning, you asshole, and you woke me up. That’s what’s wrong with me. What the hell is wrong with you? You’re wide awake and way too cheerfu—oh shit. You’re doing it with the bimbo’s sister, aren’t you? The chick from the airport. I knew it. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”
That should be insulting, but Bryce was right. Ryan was cheerful, and he was doing it with the bimbo’s sister. In fact, he’d just walked her home, sneaking around through shrubberies and along the back side of hotels so no one would spot them. It was like a college walk of shame all over again, only this time he didn’t feel any shame. He just felt good.
“Relax, Bryce. It’s not a problem. Everything is fine.”
“Fine? So that means you’ve convinced Dad not to retire?”
“No, he’s still retiring, as far as I know, but at least so far the chief of police hasn’t thrown him off the bridge.”
“Go back to sleep, honey,” Bryce said softly to his wife. “It’s just Ryan, and he’s high on dopamine. What? No, not dope. Dopamine. Never mind. Go back to sleep.”