Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
G ingerly, Jade climbed the steps up to the studio flat, very aware of Liam’s presence behind her. He’d given her a week’s ultimatum, then caused her to fall off her bike. It was enough to stay angry with him, wasn’t it?
Okay, she’d not ridden a bike for over ten years. And he’d only been at the lighthouse because he’d wanted to apologise for the ultimatum.
Yep, she was basically screwed. If she couldn’t hold on to the anger, she had no defence against the new parts of him she was slowly unravelling. The soft underbellies to his hard shell. He had no friends because he’d stopped trying… Her heart had frigging melted at that, leaving a gooey mess of emotions in its place. She’d not needed his answer as to why, it was obvious. Everyone carried a threshold for pain, beyond which they couldn’t tolerate it.
It didn’t help her, though, because she’d suffered her own pain, let men into her heart only to find Prince Charming was actually King Prick.
In the few weeks she’d known him, Liam had already swung from one to the other. It was impossible to know where he would finally land. There was also the small matter of him being her boss, of them being at loggerheads over the bookstore. And of her home and her life, her real life, being over three-thousand miles away.
So staying angry was really her best bet of surviving her time out here without having to go through another epic heartbreak.
‘I told you, I can manage,’ she protested as he clasped her elbow and led her towards the sink like she was a frail eighty-year-old.
‘And I told you, I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied you’re okay.’
She gingerly put some weight on her left ankle and grimaced. A beat later he was typing into his phone.
‘Who are you messaging?’
‘May.’ He glanced up at her. ‘I want you to be checked by a medic.’
Oh, my God. She snatched the phone from his hands. ‘Are you totally insane? I’ve slightly twisted it, that’s all. If you want to make yourself useful, you can get me some peas.’
‘Let’s clean your elbow before we start making dinner,’ he muttered, turning her so she faced the sink. His chest a warm, hard wall of delicious muscle behind her.
‘The peas are for my ankle,’ she retorted, giving him a glare over her shoulder, only to find his smoky grey eyes smiling straight at her. ‘Okay, you knew that. You were making a poor joke.’
‘A reasonably amusing joke,’ he corrected, turning on the tap.
‘By your standards, maybe, but they must be pretty low because I have it on good authority that Liam Haven doesn’t joke.’
‘Let me guess: Jeremy.’
‘Maybe.’ With a gentle touch she hadn’t thought him capable of, he brought her elbow towards the warm flowing water. ‘I can wash my own flipping arm,’ she grouched, trying to pull away. ‘Amazingly, I’ve been doing it since I was three.’
Ignoring her, he kept her arm in his gentle grip and began to carefully wipe at the crusted blood with some kitchen roll.
His body seemed to surround her, caging her in, so all she could think, smell and feel, was him. His coiled strength, the expensive sandalwood cologne he wore, his?—
‘Oh my God, are you really hard right now?’
‘I’m touching you.’ The rough timbre of his voice resonated through her. ‘Of course I’m hard.’ She tried to squirm away from him but his hips pressed against her, his body remaining locked around her. ‘Ignore it. I’m here to take care of you, not fuck you.’
The gravelly words, the insistent, pulsing heat of him, all caused arousal to pool between her thighs. ‘You’re kind of hard to ignore,’ she grumbled.
‘Now you know how I feel.’ Surprised, she turned and caught his eye again. This time there was no amusement. If anything, he looked annoyed. ‘Don’t look at me like this is news to you.’
She was saved having to reply when he turned off the tap and scooped her into his arms, placing her on the sofa like she was something delicate, breakable. To her astonishment, he knelt on the floor and began untying her trainers.
‘Jeepers creepers, stop.’ She jerked her foot away. ‘I can do that.’
He sighed. ‘Why are you turning this into a battle?’
‘Because I’m still cross with you. Because you’re my boss and this isn’t appropriate. Because I’m not comfortable with guys handling my smelly feet.’
Because I’m going to fall for you if you keep showing me these sensitive, caring sides to you.
His hands settled on her foot, clasping it gently. ‘It’s your day off, I’m not your boss today. And I remember you having no qualms about me handling your feet when we were on the boat. In fact, you were happy to put them on my shoulders, to dig them into my ass?—’
‘Stop it.’
He must have read the mess of emotions on her face because he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, his expression was full of apology. ‘Sorry.’ He swallowed, staring down at where his fingers wrapped tenderly around her ankle. ‘I just want to make things right between us. I didn’t like what you said, about me turning into a rich arrogant prick. And I didn’t like the fact you were siding with people who don’t like me.’ He lifted his gaze to hers. ‘But by reacting like I did, I proved you were right with both.’
The anger she wanted to feel, she needed to feel, fizzled out. ‘You’re not arrogant. But I do think you’re so focused on money, on seeing some people here as your enemy, that you don’t see the bigger picture.’ She bit her lip. ‘Philip said your mum left when you were small.’
‘Had a good time gossiping about me, did you?’
‘We talked about you.’ Annoyed, she tried to pull her foot away again but he held firm.
With tension cracking through the air, he began to slowly undo her trainer. Realising he needed to do this to make up for what he saw as him knocking her off the bike, she gave in and let him. His fingers were gentle as they twisted the ankle, checking how far she could move it before she winced. Clearly satisfied it was as she’d described, a slight twist, he pulled the coffee table closer, placed a cushion on it and then shifted her ankle onto it.
Still, without speaking, he walked over to the fridge and dug into the small freezer compartment to find the peas. Once he’d wrapped them in a tea towel, he pressed them onto her ankle.
And finally he began to talk.
‘I was an unplanned pregnancy for my twenty-two-year-old mom. The guy she had an affair with paid her off. She took half the money and fled, leaving her mom, my grandma, to bring me up.’ His eyes met hers, searching, as if trying to judge her reaction. ‘Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, because she’s the best person I know. She was a cleaner; my pop, a fisherman who died far too early. Instead of using the other half of the money to have a comfortable life, she used it to send me to a prestigious boarding school near Boston, thinking she was doing the best for me.’
It was the shadows in his eyes, the edge to his voice. ‘But?’
‘But she hadn’t factored in how cruel some rich kids could be. Especially when they came across a poor kid with zero connections.’ He gave a shrug of his powerful shoulders. ‘In the end I gave up trying to make friends. It was easier to keep myself to myself.’
Her heart tumbled in her chest. ‘That’s awful.’ Unconsciously, her gaze shot to his eyebrow, the one with the scar.
He gave her a wry smile. ‘One of many skirmishes. I won some, this one I lost. Again, don’t waste your time pitying me. If anything, they did me a favour. I learnt to rely on myself and only myself. Thanks to them, I put all my energy and focus into my studies, determined to make something of myself.’ He looked down at her ankle, at where his fingers gently smoothed across her skin. ‘Adam, and others like him who went to the same school, are part of the old wealth on the island. I’m the worst combination– new wealth. They hate that I made it by purchasing part of the harbourfront instead of inheriting a ready-made business. They hate that I flash my wealth around by buying land to build my own house in the same area they’re living in their big inherited houses.’ His jaw hardened. ‘They consider me vulgar, and they pollute the minds of others to their way of thinking.’
When he raised his eyes to hers, she felt another hard tug on her heart. ‘I don’t listen to other people’s opinions. I make up my own mind.’
He nodded, and rose to his feet. ‘I haven’t told anyone what I’ve just told you. Not even my grandma. How could I tell the woman who thought she was giving me the best start in life, that I was miserable?’
‘Why did you tell me?’
He paused a moment, eyes holding hers captive. ‘When it comes to you, a lifelong habit of keeping my distance seems to fly out of the window.’
The air between them crackled and she held her breath, a sudden sense that they were at the edge of a precipice. Ahead was a potentially life-altering thrill, but it came with a great degree of danger. Did she take a huge, terrifying move towards it? Or retreat, as fast as she possibly could, to safety?
Liam broke the heavily charged silence. ‘You know, this’—he pointed back and forth between them—‘it doesn’t work for me either. I have plans, carefully constructed plans I’ve spent years putting in place, that you’re trying your hardest to derail. I don’t want to spend my days thinking about you. Nor do I want to keep spilling my guts to you. I especially don’t want to like you, because I know I’ll get shafted further down the line. But it’s happening, and I can’t stop it.’
With a final incline of his head, he turned and headed down the stairs.
She was left wondering if the decision whether or not to move towards the danger was even in her hands.
* * *
The iconic clay cliffs of Martha’s Vineyard came slowly into view and Liam felt some of his tension start to recede. Light from the setting sun danced across the water, casting shimmering reflections as he powered towards the shore. Minutes later he secured the yacht on its mooring and walked up the private wooden jetty towards his grandma’s house.
He always looked forward to seeing her, but after the day he’d just had, more than ever he felt the need to be close to the woman who was his anchor, his family.
The one person in his life who’d ever given a damn about him.
A flash of white fur darted towards him and he bent to stroke the sleek cat who purred like an expensive car as she rubbed against his legs. ‘At least someone’s pleased to see me.’
‘Stop fussing over her and give your grandma a hug.’
He felt a rush of warmth, of deep affection, as he marched over to the figure standing in the open French doors. With her short white hair, which she dyed blue, pink or purple depending on her mood, but was today a bright silver, his grandma was still a knockout at seventy-five. He bent to hug her, lifting her feet off the ground and twirling them both around. And earning him a delighted chuckle. ‘It’s been too long since a man swept me off my feet.’
Carefully he settled her back on the ground. ‘And why’s that? You know Pop would never have wanted you to live alone.’
‘I’m not alone. I have Bardot. And I have you.’
‘What about John?’ In his early seventies, the man lived around the corner and had been attempting to persuade his grandma into a relationship for two years. ‘Is he still breaking his back, and his bank balance, trying to convince you to give him a chance?’
She chuckled and threaded her arm through his as they walked inside. ‘He’s bored and I’m his entertainment. Now tell me your news. What are your plans for the waterfront, now that your purchases are complete? And for that lovely old store on the wharf?’
He peered down at her curiously. ‘Why do I get the feeling you already know?’
‘I still have my spies on the island, you know. And they tell me the new bookstore manager has started a campaign to get you to keep the shop.’ She smiled. ‘I always liked that place.’
‘You liked browsing the books there,’ he corrected. ‘And then you’d borrow the one you wanted from the library and if they didn’t have it in, you’d ask them to order it.’
‘Only because I couldn’t afford books back then. It was always my dream to be able to go in and just buy whatever I fancied. It’s such a delightful shop, all that driftwood, the position of it.’ She let out a long, dreamy sigh. ‘A real paradise for book lovers.’
He knew she was coming from a place of sentimentality, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling of hurt. ‘Not you, too.’
She squeezed his hand, her expression full of love. ‘If by that you mean I’d like it if the bookstore remained, then, yes, but I’m sure you have very good reasons for knocking it down.’
‘I do.’ He could hardly build a row of exclusive luxury cottages, each complete with its own private mooring, and leave a damn bookstore in the middle of it all.
She walked to the kitchen and reached into the cupboard, bringing down two wine glasses. ‘Well, then, you just have to explain your reasons to this new manager.’
‘She’s not as reasonable as you.’ His conscience niggled. Jade only knew it was about money. If he told her everything, would she understand? He recalled the sympathy in her eyes as he’d opened up to her this afternoon. Maybe she would, but was it really in his best interests? He’d be laying himself bare. Leaving himself defenceless.
A shudder ran through him.
‘I hear she’s very pretty.’
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he set his expression to neutral. ‘You could describe her that way.’ Luscious, devastatingly sexy, utterly unique were other descriptions. ‘Do you want me to open a bottle?’ he asked, hoping to change the subject.
‘Of course. I bought a lovely Merlot for you.’
He went to grab the bottle sitting on the worktop, and frowned down at the label. ‘It’s a Pinot Noir.’
‘Oh, is it? Silly me, I must have misread it.’
Worry shifted through him. If it had been the first time she’d made a mistake misreading something, he’d brush it off, but this was getting too regular. ‘Merlot and Pinot Noir aren’t exactly similar.’
‘They are when you’re old and in a hurry.’
She busied herself getting cheese out of the fridge and the worry deepened as he recognised her behaviour. She was avoiding looking at him. Walking up behind her, he took the cheese from her hands, set it on the island and closed the fridge door. ‘Talk to me.’
‘I know you prefer the Merlot, but I’m sure the Pinot Noir will be fine. I remember a time when having a glass of wine at all was a luxury we could only afford on special occasions?—’
‘Stop.’ He clasped her face, more wrinkles now than when they’d shared the occasional bottle on his breaks from university, yet still so very dear to him it made his heart hurt just looking at her. ‘Is it your eyesight? Is that why you’re misreading labels and have stopped driving?’ He thought back to his visits over the last three months. ‘Is that why you haven’t asked me to bring you a new book?’
Blue eyes, dimmed with age, darted away from his. ‘You always did know when I was struggling.’
‘It’s my job to know.’ He bent to kiss her furrowed forehead. ‘My job to take care of you.’
She humphed. ‘I don’t want you wasting your time on me. I want you living your life.’
Christ. When he’d told Jade his grandma was the best person he knew, he’d only scratched the surface of how lucky he’d been to have her. ‘How can I live my life if I’m worried about you? Now tell me what’s happening so I can fix it.’
She patted his cheek. ‘My dear boy, this is something you can’t fix.’
She took his hand and led him to the sofa, sitting down first before patting the space next to her. He dropped into it, wrapping his arms around her, his mind immediately making similarities between her frail, bony body and the youthful curves of the last woman he’d held. ‘The doctor says I have age related macular degeneration, the common one, and there’s no treatment. I just have to find ways to adapt to it.’
Fuck. His mind buzzed. ‘How long has this been going on?’ Why hadn’t he noticed? He’d just said it was his job to take care of her, yet he’d done a piss-poor job of it.
‘For a while I’ve noticed my eyesight has become blurred. It’s just the bit in the middle, but it makes it harder to read.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I think that’s the worst part. You know how I love to read my books, but it’s proving a bit of a struggle now.’
‘Have you seen a specialist? Of course you haven’t,’ he muttered, answering his own question. ‘First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll make you an appointment with the top guy. From now on, no more handling this on your own. Together we’ll find a way through it.’
She patted his hand. ‘I don’t want you worrying about me. I’m taking all these fancy vitamins the doctor suggested and I bought myself a magnifying glass and brighter light bulbs.’
Brighter bulbs ? She couldn’t see to read and she thought brighter bulbs was the answer? ‘From now on we’re in this together,’ he repeated. Because he could see she was about to argue, he shot her his best smile. ‘Batman and Robin.’
‘You silly goose.’ She shook her head, but he could see amusement chase away some of the shadows. ‘Bonnie and Clyde.’
‘Woody and Buzz Lightyear.’
That got a chuckle out of her. ‘Abbot and Costello.’
It was a game they’d played when he’d been down, usually the day before he had to go back to school. It was only later he’d realised it had been her way of reminding him she was always there for him. ‘Scooby-Doo and Shaggy.’
She sighed, her body relaxing against his. ‘Fine. You win. Make me an appointment.’
He poked her gently in the ribs. ‘Snoopy and Woodstock. And I’m doing more than making you the appointment. I’m taking you to wherever we need to go, and throwing vast amounts of money in whatever direction will get you the best possible care.’
Her eyes glistened and she squeezed his arm. ‘You’re a good grandson.’
He hadn’t been, not over the last few years, he realised with a rush of shame. Oh he’d seen her regularly, and phoned when he couldn’t, but he hadn’t paid attention, his mind too focused on business.
It made him think of Jade, and her earnest expression as she’d told him he was too preoccupied with money to see what was important.
She’d been right, but it wasn’t the community he needed to become his priority. It was his grandma.