All Because I Loved You (Morgan’s Bay #3)

Chapter 1

For Nolan Parker, Morgan’s Bay was home. No matter how long he’d been away, or the fact that his parents no longer lived in the small town, it was and always would still be home. It was why, after his professional life had crumbled beneath his feet, he got in his Porsche and drove twenty-nine-hundred miles across the country.

He arrived at his childhood home — now a vacant rental — in the middle of the night. He parked in the driveway and stepped out of the car, stretching his sore muscles. Salt clung in the air from the nearby bay, and he inhaled the familiar scent of better days.

The house was bathed in darkness as well as the surrounding property, but that didn’t stop his gaze from drifting over to the old Victorian next door.

Mrs. Garrick, a woman who was such a huge part of his childhood, had recently passed. He wondered what would happen to the house now that she was gone, and if her granddaughter, the girl he once planned to marry, would be by to help clean it out.

His heart clenched at the thought of Isla. It’d been three years since he’d seen her. Three years since she tried to catch him cheating through a stupid radio show. Anger unfurled in his gut, spreading through him like an unrelenting wave. Three years and he still couldn’t believe that the love of his life betrayed him in such a public spectacle.

That day he’d been offered a promotion that would require him to pack his bags, leave the east end of Long Island behind, and permanently move to Seattle. The decision had weighed heavily on his mind until that damn phone call from the radio station pretending to be someone else in their attempt to catch a cheater. After that, it was no longer a debate. With the pieces of his heart shattered into a million shards, he left the only place he ever knew.

The anger receded, mixing with regret. Though, he wasn’t sure if the regret was for the girl or for the job. He shook his head, refusing to wallow in self-pity any longer. He had forty-five hours on the open road to do that. Besides, he was going on less than three hours of sleep; he was dead on his feet.

He grabbed his duffel, a pillow and blanket — all his other belongings would arrive in a couple days — and headed to the front door. His parents never changed the locks, so his key still worked. He let himself in and flipped the light switch on. The bulb in the ceiling fan above illuminated the mostly empty room.

An old beat-to-shit chair sat in the far corner, and a roll of packing tape rested on the floor beside it. Everything that made the house home was gone. He moved through the living room to the kitchen. All the appliances were the same, except the kitchen table was no longer there. The house was nothing more than a shell.

When the moving truck arrived in two days, he’d be able to fill the place with furniture and make it his own. Until then, he just had to make do. He went into his old bedroom and found nothing but an empty moving box. He laid the blanket on the floor, tossed his pillow on top, and stripped down to his boxer briefs. It’s not like he needed a bed to sleep; he was too damn tired to even care. He lay down on the blanket and passed out when his head hit the pillow.

Nolan awoke to an insistent knocking. Bright sunlight filtered through a broken mini blind, and he blinked, trying to get his bearings. It took him a minute to remember he was back in Morgan’s Bay and not in his townhouse in Seattle. He grabbed his phone and checked the time.

Shit.

It was well past noon. The knock echoed through the house, and he got up to see who it was. He strolled to the door. “You’re going to knock a hole right through the wood,” he said as he pulled it open.

His gaze went right past the fist that was midair and right to the bright blue eyes of his ex-girlfriend. Her blonde hair was pulled out of her face and thrown up in a bun. Golden strands fell loose around her face, highlighting her sun-kissed skin. She looked like a goddess who’d descended from the heavens to stand regally on his front steps, palm up, a ceramic baking dish in her hand. Her face was free of any makeup, and she was more beautiful than ever.

“Isla,” he said, trying not to show an ounce of emotion. His body fought his mind, desperate to reach out to her and pull her tight against him. But after everything she’d put him through, she didn’t deserve a warm embrace. She didn’t deserve a reaction from him at all.

She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Her gaze darted down and lingered on his chest before snapping back to his eyes. Her pink lips parted, but other than a few sounds, nothing came out. The ceramic baking dish slipped from her grip and hit the concrete steps with a resounding crack. Wide eyed, she stepped back.

“I…” She tossed her thumb over her shoulder. “Left the stove on.” She took off without another word, hurrying across his lawn to her grandmother’s house.

“Isla!” His mouth won the invisible battle and called out after her, but it was too late. She’d already run inside the old Victorian and slammed the door.

He bent down to the broken ceramic dish and was hit with the delicious scent of fresh-baked brownies. On top of the brownies was a small card from Isla’s parents’ floral shop. He plucked it up and opened the envelope.

Welcome to the neighborhood.

Your neighbor, Isla Garrick.

Neighbor? Nolan looked at the Victorian and shook his head. If life wasn’t already complicated enough for him, now he was stuck living next door to his past —a past he’d done everything to forget over the last three years but never could.

This was just great.

***

Isla didn’t as much as breathe until she was back in the house with the door firmly closed and locked. She hurried to the kitchen and rested her hands against the counter.

“What is he doing back here?” she asked the air, then glanced up. “Grandma, I swear if this is you playing some kind of joke, I’m going to give you an earful when we meet again.”

The batter bowl sat at the far end of the counter, and Isla grabbed the spoon, shoved it in her mouth, and sunk to the floor.

She didn’t even care if there was raw egg in the batter. She’d take salmonella over dealing with Nolan Parker any day.

It took a good twenty minutes before Isla could pry herself off the floor, but once she did, she immediately texted her best friends. They were the only ones who could understand the sheer awfulness of her new neighbor.

Isla: You’ll never guess who my new neighbor is.

It only took a few seconds for her phone to chime with a new message.

Olivia: Leonardo DiCaprio

Harper: A Russian spy!

Isla laughed at both of their outlandish guesses. And even though they were as ridiculous as they came, she doubted the truth would be any less shocking. She typed her reply.

You’re both wrong. Would you believe me if I said it was more jaw-dropping than that?

Harper: Who is it?

She typed his name and stared at it. Even just seeing his name written out brought on a sense of emotions she didn’t want to deal with.

Isla: Nolan.

Olivia: He’s back in town? Are you sure?

Isla: Oh yeah. Beautifully sculpted chest and all. I’ll tell you about it tonight.

Olivia: I’ll bring the wine.

Harper: Screw that. I’m bringing vodka!

The girls showed up a few hours later. Harper threw the door open and stepped inside with a bottle of vodka held high. “I’m not driving. Get the shot glasses.”

Olivia took the bottle from her hand and shook her head. “We’re not doing shots.”

Isla met them at the door and grabbed the bottle. “Speak for yourself.”

“But I brought cranberry juice and triple sec for cosmos.”

“Do people even drink those anymore?” Harper asked.

Olivia sighed. “I am keeping the memory of Carrie Bradshaw alive.” Growing up, Olivia wanted to be the main character on Sex and the City, and for a while, she lived the city girl life, but came back to their small town after she caught her then boyfriend cheating on her. It was a blessing in disguise. Isla never liked the jerk, and besides, Olivia met Shane, who was clearly her soulmate.

Thinking of soulmates made Isla’s heart hurt. She’d always believed Nolan was her soulmate until he left. She opened the vodka and took a swig right from the bottle.

“Okay…” Harper’s eyes widened as Isla gulped. “It’s going to be one of those nights.”

“We’re not driving,” Olivia echoed Harper’s earlier sentiment.

They convened in the kitchen and sat around the table, forgoing glasses and passing the bottle around.

Harper took a swig, her nose wrinkling before handing the bottle to Olivia. “So, what did you say to him?”

Isla dropped her head to the table with a loud thump.

“I’m guessing nothing noteworthy.”

Isla’s head popped up, and she slumped in her chair. Olivia handed her the bottle, and Isla took a healthy sip. She winced at the burn. “I thought I’d be neighborly, you know, take a page from my grandma, and bring over brownies.”

Olivia laughed. “That’s very Susie Homemaker of you.”

“I thought so. I didn’t even burn them.”

“Enough about the brownies.” Harper waved her hand. “Get to the good part.”

Isla let out a breath. “I knocked, and he opened the door in nothing but six pack abs and boxer briefs.”

Harper and Olivia both rested their chins on their hands and leaned in. “Then what happened?” Harper asked.

“What do you think? I dropped the pan and got out of there. Like an adult.”

Harper and Olivia looked at each other. Silence spread between them before loud barking laughs erupted. As if Isla didn’t already feel like an idiot…

“Go ahead, laugh it up.”

‘Sorry, but I just have this visual of you darting across the lawn,” Olivia said. “Too bad you don’t have security cameras. I’d watch it on repeat.”

The girls laughed harder, and this time Isla even let a few giggles slip. Once the laughing subsided, Harper cleared her throat. “Did he run after you?”

Isla shook her head. “I don’t think so. I didn’t look back. He was in his underwear, so I doubt it.”

“To have been a bird in a tree to witness that.” Harper laughed.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“It’s kind of funny,” Liv said, choking on a laugh.

“Sure, living next door to my ex-boyfriend is hilarious.” Isla took another swig from the bottle of vodka, perfectly aware that she couldn’t drink her problems away but was going to damn well try.