11. Fisher
CHAPTER ELEVEN
fisher
“Come on, it’s already six twenty-five.” Sutton tugs on my arm, causing me to tap a couple of random keys.
I was so engrossed in my work that I didn’t hear her come into my office.
With a sigh, I run a hand down my face and try to focus on the world around me. Damn, I was so freaking close. The white cursor blinks on the otherwise black screen. If I had another thirty minutes, I’d have done it. Walking away at this moment is physically painful.
“Please.” Sutton’s small voice has my jaw locking. I’ve been working for the last four hours, but I promised her that we’d go to Mrs. K’s for dinner if she could entertain herself until it was time to leave.
Since my parents moved to Florida and my brother passed away, the Knowleses are the closest thing we have to family.
Shoulders sinking, Sutton blinks those big blue eyes at me. “We can skip it if you need to work.”
It would not be the first time I’ve canceled because I need more time.
Sometimes walking away isn’t possible. But the hurt and disappointment rolling off my niece are extra palpable today.
I can’t crush her dinner plans. She’s like her father—social, fun, and in desperate need of time outside this house. So I have to provide it for her.
“Nope, I’m ready.” I hit the keys to kill my program, along with any chance of finishing this project quickly. If only I could shut off my head just as easily. This idea is going to fester until I can get back to my keyboard. “Let’s go eat.”
I might be shitty company, but the Knowleses are used to it.
“Yes!” She spins and takes off running down the narrow staircase. “Come on, Bing.”
His nails tap along the hardwood floor as he races to the front door.
I’m halfway down the stairs when the screen door slams shut, making me wince. “Sutton, you gotta stop letting the damn door slam.”
She probably can’t even hear me out in the yard. Grumbling, I slip my Timberlands on and grab the leather jacket I never wear now that I live on Gilligan’s Island. Libby still has my coat, and although most days I’d just go without a jacket, there is a chill in the air tonight.
“Sutton,” I call again as I step outside.
“Guess what!” Sutton calls as she drags Libby by the hand toward the porch.
Libby peers up at me, and the bright light from the full moon catches the deep blue of her eyes, making them sparkle.
Heart stuttering, I blink twice. Damn, she’s pretty in the moonlight. Her hair is down, flowing just past her shoulders so it brushes the high pockets of the coat—my coat—she’s actually wearing. It’s several sizes too big, but the vision of her in it has me almost smiling.
Before the expression has a chance to form, I lock my jaw. I will not allow myself to be interested in this woman. I will be friendly and make sure she’s okay until she leaves. That’s it.
That’s my mantra. My mission. But when she shoots one of the gorgeous smiles at my niece, my gut tightens. My body really needs to get on board with what my head already knows.
“Where are you going?” It better not be to dinner with one of the fuckers who followed her around at the brewery last night. Just the idea has my fist clenching at my sides.
Sutton cups one hand to the side of her mouth, and in a voice entirely too loud to whisper, says. “That’s the secret. She’s coming to Sunday dinner.”
“Oh.” A wave of relief mixed with apprehension surges through me. I’m not sure if I’m more or less annoyed by the idea that I’m the fucker she’s eating with. My eyes lock on hers, and my stomach flips. Definitely less annoyed.
But now I have to spend the next two hours trying not to stare at her, forcing my hands not to reach for her.
The breeze blows, and like a hard punch to the gut, I’m hit with the sweet floral scent that follows Libby.
A zing rips up my spine, and my instincts scream at me to step close, lean down, run my nose along her neck.
Fuck, my every cell wants more of her. Giving in to this feeling growing in my chest would be so much easier than fighting it.
If not for one thing: Libby will leave. This would be nothing for her but a summer fling.
I can’t fall for her just to lose her. I can’t lose anyone else.
I hold tight to that thought and keep it at the forefront of my mind.
“Kennedy invited me,” she says.
What? I blink. I’ve lost the entire conversation.
Thirty seconds ago, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get the code for the wormhole out of my brain.
Now all I can think about is touching Libby.
A woman who’s too young for me. A woman who has her entire life ahead of her.
Who, any day, will realize that life here is too dull for someone with her sparkle. She’ll leave. And I’ll still be here.
“Don’t worry.” Sutton pulls on Libby’s jacket. “Fisher doesn’t care. He hardly says anything at Sunday dinner. He just eats and grunts.”
I wince. Comments like those make me question why my brother and his wife appointed me Sutton’s guardian if anything should happen to them. Who in their right mind leaves their daughter to the grumpy nerd who is better with computers than people?
“Come on, you can ride with us. It’s way too far to walk.” Sutton heads toward my truck, dragging Libby with her. “Bing,” she calls as she climbs into the back.
The dog hops in beside her. He’s probably just as excited to hang out at Mrs. K’s as Sutton is, since the woman loves giving him the table scraps. Every Sunday is like Thanksgiving for him.
Libby stops beside the truck and gapes at the passenger seat.
For a heartbeat I worry she’ll refuse to ride with me.
The woman never makes anything easy. Even last night at the brewery, she gave me trouble before eventually letting me walk her home.
When she glances toward the dark road again and my heart plummets in response, there’s no denying that I want her with us.
And not just because I’ve been forcefully tasked with keeping everyone on this damn island safe. No, some traitorous part of me wants to hear her laugh with Sutton or even earn a smile myself. Fuck. I shouldn’t want that. But I can’t seem to stop myself.
“There aren’t any doors,” she finally says.
I nod, more relieved than I should be to discover the issue behind her hesitation. “They just get in the way.”
Brow creased in confusion, she tips her head up to look at me. “Of what?”
If only I could explain it to her. Truth is, I don’t fucking know. I’m just repeating what Hunter always said about his truck.
“In you go.” I grasp her arm lightly and usher her onto the seat before she can put up a fight. Because, for some unexplainable reason, I want her with me. I want her driving me nuts.
We’re hardly around the bend when she says, “At least he’s wearing clothes.”
Blue is standing in the middle of his yard, staring up at the sky like it holds all the answers.
“Gramps would never eat dinner naked.” Sutton pops up between our seats, her tone full of confidence.
A chuckle escapes me. I would not make that bet. If Mrs. K allowed it, Blue would absolutely show up to Sunday dinner in his birthday suit.
“Was that a laugh, Fisher?” Libby teases as I slowly pull to a stop.
“Nope, clearing my throat.” I cough for good measure. “Blue,” I call. “Let’s go.”
The tip of his more-salt-than-pepper beard brushes his flannel as he turns our way, and in true Blue fashion, the tall, lanky old man takes his time shuffling over.
“Love sliding in bare. Gives me the shivers.”
Libby chokes on a scoff, and I shake my head.
Sutton leans forward again, cupping one side of her mouth, and not really whispers, “Gramps always says the weirdest things.”
Thank fuck my eight-year-old doesn’t understand most of Blue’s inappropriate comments. Not yet, anyway. “Without doors, you mean.” I glare at him through the mirror, only to find his blue eyes dancing with amusement. I don’t know why I waste my breath.
“Gramps, do you know Libby?” my niece asks. At least one of us here has manners.
“I’ve seen the lovely Libby around. I’m Blue.” He leans forward and holds out a hand.
A growl escapes me, and before I know what I’m doing, I say, “Two feet.”
Blue raises his brows. Although Wilder has a girl a week during tourist season and has to warn Blue off all the time, I’ve never claimed anyone before.
Libby cocks her head, her blond hair slipping past the swell of her breast, garnering my attention. She ducks, following my gaze, then straightens and locks eyes with me for the space of a heartbeat. I swear the air crackles.
Swallowing thickly, I force myself to focus on the path and slowly ease off the break.
Blue chuckles, but I ignore the asshole.
“Libby,” Sutton chirps, thankfully breaking through the tension. “Did you see the casting for the play? I get to be Frenchie.”
By the lightness of her tone, she’s excited.
Although why the hell Sutton wants to be French is beyond me.
Maybe the idea is alluring because it’s unlike anything she’s used to on this island.
Although I keep Sutton here because that’s what Hunter and Marissa wanted, my niece’s desire to see the world isn’t lost on me.
“Oh my gosh. That’s so cool.” Libby spins in her seat, and the two girls gush about the summer play all the way to the inn.
I half listen, mostly grateful that they can prattle on so easily without my input.
Sutton requires so many words every day.
She has so much to say, and I’m typically the one stuck responding to most of them.
I can easily reach my daily quota by breakfast. So this?
Quietly listening to them chatter and not having to say a single word? I could get used to this.
When I peer into the rearview mirror as I round the inn, the man behind me catches my eye, his smirk far too knowing. Fuck.