Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ISLA
This. Is. So. Weird.
Caden is currently under the Thorn’s sink, explaining something about P-traps to my sister. Grace sits cross-legged at his side, her head tilted to better see what he’s doing. My father stands on the other side of the kitchen, watching with a slightly bemused expression.
I can’t blame him—I’m still processing this new Caden too. I try not to think about the way he looked at me before Grace interrupted. The tension that seemed to pulse between us. I can still feel the heat of his gaze, like flames licking over my skin. I pick up one of the salt and pepper shakers off the kitchen island just for something to do with my hands.
Caden says something to Grace that makes her laugh. My eyes are drawn to his long legs, encased in dark jeans. One knee is crooked up and there’s a small splatter of water on the hem of his tee. He moves his arm and my gaze catches on the sliver of exposed skin as his T-shirt rides up, the muscles across his stomach rippling. I almost drop the salt and pepper shakers, putting them hastily back on the island.
“There,” Caden says, emerging from beneath the sink and wiping his hands on his thighs. “All set, sir.”
“Thank you,” my father says. “What do I owe you?”
“No charge,” Caden says. “I’m happy to help.”
Dad makes some protestations, though I know on the inside, he’s relieved. “Well, that’s very kind of you,” he says.
Caden turns on the faucet to test the sink. Cords of muscle shift in his forearms as he washes his hands.
He bends down and checks the pipe.
“Looks good,” he says. “But let me know if it starts leaking again.”
“Dad, Caden needs to work on some things for my Magnolia Day booth,” I say. “Can we borrow the truck and take a few pieces of old furniture downstairs and bring it to Reggie’s?”
“Sure, sure,” Dad says.
“Can I help?” Grace asks eagerly, getting to her feet.
“Of course,” Caden says. “I can teach you some carpentry if you’d like. If that’s all right with you, sir,” he says, quickly deferring to Dad.
Grace’s eyes widen and she turns on our father. “Please can I learn about carpentry, Dad? Please?”
My little sister’s curiosity knows no bounds. I feel torn—I love the idea of her learning new skills, but I wish Caden weren’t the one doing the teaching. The less I see of him the better.
“All right,” Dad says. “But no saws or power tools.”
“No, of course not,” Caden agrees. “I’ll show her how to measure and sand and follow blueprints, things like that.”
“Okay then,” Dad says. The door opens, heralding the arrival of some new guests. Dad hurries off to check them in.
We head down to the basement. Grace wanders over to an ancient dresser covered in dust while I brush cobwebs off a rocking chair.
“Wow,” Caden says, picking up a lamp with a broken shade. “This is cool. I bet I could find a new shade for it on Etsy. Something Art Deco.”
“You shop on Etsy?” I say.
Caden grins. “Hey, don’t knock it, there’s some great stuff on there.”
“Oh, I know,” I say. “But why not check out the local thrift stores first?”
He cocks his head. “Good idea.”
“Isla look,” Grace says. “You could use this dresser and make it like Aunt Charlotte’s, with jewelry boxes open but with treats inside them instead of bracelets and stuff. And then you could put wood over the open drawers and use them as platforms for other pastries.”
I stare at my sister—even though I’m used to how her brain works by now, sometimes I’m still dumbfounded by the way she can put things together.
“That’s a really smart idea,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says.
Caden walks over to examine the dresser. “Let’s take the drawers out first. Might make it easier to carry upstairs.”
An hour later, we’ve loaded the dresser, the rocking chair, and the lamp, along with an old wooden stepladder and a dusty mirror, into the back of my dad’s pickup. We all squeeze into the front together—me behind the wheel, Caden in the passenger seat, and Grace tucked between us. Caden seems even larger in the truck’s small cab. His broad shoulders fill the space and his legs press against the glove compartment. I catch the scent of him again, that leather-and-soap mixture, and I squeeze my thighs tight as we start the truck. I don’t ever remember him smelling so…masculine. He was always a cologne guy.
I can’t stop glancing down at his legs again, at the way his T-shirt falls over his flat stomach, then up to the wide expanse of his chest. I’m still not used to how much of him there is now. He catches me looking and I rip my gaze away.
When we get to the garage, Cody comes hurrying over to help Caden unload the truck.
“Wow, look at all this stuff,” he says. “Hey, Caden, I hope you don’t mind, but I was talking about how you were helping out with Magnolia Day when I was grabbing coffee at Perks and now Eric Kim wants to know if you’d make his booth too. He still has the one from last year but he says he got permission to expand it. And Sara Summers was hoping you could take a look at hers—and maybe Franco’s booth for Osteria Fortuna too?”
Caden raises his eyebrows then chuckles. “Sure,” he says.
“Looks like you’re Magnolia Day’s official booth maker,” I say.
“I don’t mind,” he says. “Besides, I’ve got help.” He turns to Grace. “You think you can handle a little extra work?”
“Yes,” Grace says with determination. She looks at Cody. “Caden is going to teach me how to read blueprints!”
Cody takes it in stride. “Cool. Hey, Caden, Noah says you’re coming to the beach with us next weekend. Isla you’re coming too, right? Bring Luke. We can show him us townies don’t bite.”
Caden’s shoulders tense as Cody flashes me his toothy grin.
“Yeah. Charlotte already told me about it,” I say. She didn’t mention Caden, so she probably didn’t know he was coming. I have a fleeting image of Caden in only a pair of swimming trunks and my stomach gives an uncomfortable lurch. “I’ll have to ask Luke—I know he’s really busy this summer.”
Caden picks up the rocking chair and hauls it over to the far side of the garage, his expression suddenly stony.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours to pick you up,” I tell Grace. I drive Dad’s truck back to the Thorn and then decide to walk home.
It would be nice if Luke could come to the beach. He never really hangs out much with my friends—he’s met up with me and Charlotte for drinks, and he’s had dinner with my family a couple of times but that’s it. It might be weird for a minute, having Luke and Caden in the same place, but things are over between me and Caden, and have been for a long time. I’m not going to let that stop me.
I take out my phone and call Luke.
“Hey, babe, what up?” he says. I can hear the clink of glassware and the murmur of voices in the background.
“Sorry, am I interrupting?”
“Never,” he says, and I smile. “I’m just out at happy hour with some of the junior associates.”
“Are you free this weekend?” I ask. “Some of my friends are going to the beach and we’re invited.”
“A beach trip, huh? That sounds great, babe, but I can’t. I’ve got Chad’s bachelor party, remember?”
Right. They’re going to Chad’s family’s private island, a concept I still can’t quite wrap my head around. Luke told me it would just be the boys—no strippers or anything. He said there’s going to be a lot of poker and snorkeling.
“Oh right, I forgot,” I say. “No problem.”
Luke lowers his voice. “I miss you, babe. Want to come into the city and spend the night at my place?”
“That sounds great!” I say. “I think I can catch the six thirty train.”
“Can’t wait. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I say, and the line goes dead.
By the end of the week, I’m ready for a beach day.
The Thorn is booked up which keeps me busy in the mornings and then I drop Grace at camp or at Reggie’s—Caden and I have ended up texting quite a bit about the booth. I’m remembering how easy conversation was between us, how much we used to make each other laugh. Once, he sent me a photo from Vintage Closet with various lampshades on his head to model for me—he’d forgotten to bring the actual lamp with him.
You’re giving great Lumiere vibes, I’d told him.
Excuse me, but Lumiere was a candlestick. We aren’t putting a fire hazard in your booth.
Good call. Could I have a Cogsworth? Or at least a Mrs. Potts.
Okay, if I see any overbearing clocks or singing teapots here, I’ll grab one.
He did actually come back from that trip with a teapot. And it did look a lot like Mrs. Potts.
I have appointments with Lucille, one with a florist and the other to try the various hors d’oeuvres that will be served at the reception. I wish Luke would come to these meetings, but his new responsibilities at work take up a lot of his time and he assures me that he’s happy with whatever I want. Though it feels like we end up choosing whatever Lucille wants.
I’ve also started working on the items for Magnolia Day. The banh pia were a bust—I’d need more time to practice them—so I decide to go with some classics and old favorites. Now that I’ve got a teapot added to the booth’s décor, I decide to do a teatime theme.
By Friday, I’m feeling ready for a break and a day at the beach sounds perfect.
I wake up with a bit of a headache, so I pop a couple of Advil before driving to the Thorn to make ginger and cranberry scones then head back to my apartment to change. Charlotte is picking me up, along with Joni. I look through my swimsuits and choose a cherry red bikini with tiny white polka dots. I throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a gauzy top just as Charlotte taps her horn from outside. Joni is leaving the shop in the care of one of her summer employees and she’s already in the car. She waves at me, her blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail, the freckles on her cheeks dancing.
“Beach day!” she says gleefully as I get in the backseat. Charlotte’s radio is tuned to a nineties station, blaring The Gin Blossoms.
“I’ve got towels, chairs, and beers,” she declares. “Noah and Cody are bringing snacks. Mike and Emily Cochran have an umbrella and a cornhole setup.”
“I heard Caden Everton is coming too,” Joni says.
Charlotte glances at me in the rearview mirror and I give her a determinedly light smile. It’s not like this is new information to me.
We park in the lot that’s quickly filling up with families tugging wagons overflowing with toys for their toddlers and rowdy teens trying to find the best places to set up their camps. Noah and Cody wave to us from a spot near the water as we park. This stretch of beach is about twenty minutes from Magnolia Bay, a sprawl of sand along the Long Island Sound. Mike and Emily are tossing a frisbee back and forth as Cody cracks open a beer from the cooler he brought.
No sign of Caden yet. I feel an odd mixture of relief and disappointment. We grab our own cooler along with the bags of towels and three chairs and pick our way through the sunbathers toward the rest of our friends.
“Hey guys,” Charlotte says, plunking the cooler down and grabbing a beer for herself before handing one to me. “Gorgeous day, huh?”
The sun shines brightly overhead in a cerulean sky, and the gentle whoosh of the waves against the shore is comforting. I take a sip of beer as Noah opens a bag of chips.
“Hi,” Emily says, hurrying over. Emily is a couple of years younger than us, a sweet girl with a round face and sunny disposition. Her older brother Mike is the polar opposite—blond but surly, with a crooked nose and a near permanent scowl. “Is this everyone?”
“Just waiting on Caden,” Noah says, popping a chip in his mouth.
“Oh, is he coming? That’s great!” Emily says.
“What’s he doing back in town anyway?” Mike asks as Cody hands him a beer.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself,” Noah says tartly.
“Whatever,” Mike says, chugging a third of his beer in one go.
“I think it’s nice,” Emily says. “He’s been gone for so long. I bet his family is happy to have him home.”
“Wonder why he left in the first place,” Mike grumbles. I don’t really want to be a part of this conversation, so I busy myself with grabbing a handful of chips. My stomach feels a little queasy. “Seems like a guilty conscience, doesn’t it?”
“Mike,” Noah says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I say this with all due respect—shut the hell up.”
“What?” Mike says. “Everyone else was thinking it. It was in the papers.”
“Caden wasn’t home that morning, anyway,” Emily says. “He had an alibi. That was in the papers too.”
“Yeah, some “unnamed woman”,” Mike says, using air quotes. He snorts and I feel all the blood rush to my face. “Think he was banging some chick from the party?”
“Mike, it’s truly incredible that you’re still single,” Charlotte says acidly. “You have such a way with words. Now stop being an utter fucking dipshit and pass me the hummus.”
There’s a sudden roar and sputter and we all turn to see a sleek red 70s Camaro pulling up next to Charlotte’s car.
Caden gets out of the driver’s seat, the muscles in his shoulders straining against his linen button down. He wears a simple pair of navy trunks and tosses a towel over his shoulder as he comes to join us.
My pulse flutters at the base of my throat, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Wow,” Emily mutters under her breath. “He got hot. I mean, he was always good-looking but…”
Noah strides over to Caden and greets him. I see him pointing at the Camaro and then laughing in response to Caden’s reply, shaking his head. They come over and everyone makes their hellos. Mike seems less antagonistic as he nervously eyes Caden’s massive biceps.
“Hi,” Caden says to me.
“Hey,” I reply. My pulse has kicked up a notch and I shove the rest of the chips in my face, washing them down with a mouthful of beer.
Conversation buzzes around me but I don’t pay much attention to it. Even when I’m not looking at him, I’m so aware of Caden’s presence. Like it has its own pulse. Like it’s this living, breathing thing between us. I spread my towel out on the sand, slipping out of my top and unzipping my shorts. I keep my eyes trained on the ocean as I lay on my stomach, watching the constant movement of the waves against the shore from behind my heart-shaped sunglasses.
I hear Emily asking Caden what he’s been doing this whole time. Caden tells her a bit about working in Argentina, but it’s a bare bones version from what he told me. He pivots the conversation toward Cody, asking him how his dad is. Sheriff Briggs was under a lot of pressure after Marion was murdered. There were rumors he was going to retire early.
I wonder how Caden’s investigation is coming along. If he’s found anything new.
My head continues to throb as the day goes on. The sun beats down on the sand and everyone gets in the water except me, Charlotte, and Caden. Caden has left on a walk along the shore. Charlotte is propped on her elbows next to me reading a book.
“How are you doing?” she asks as I turn over onto my back.
“I’m fine,” I say.
She puts down the book and lowers her shades.
“I am,” I insist.
Charlotte’s gaze travels down the beach to where Caden’s figure looms.
“At least he hasn’t taken his shirt off,” she mutters.
My laugh is a little too high-pitched for my liking. “Stop it,” I say. I sit up and feel a wave of lightheadedness. “Can you pass me the baby carrots?”
She does and then Joni calls out to her from the water.
“Charlotte, come on, we’re gonna play Chicken!”
Cody ducks under the waves and emerges with Joni perched on his shoulders. She screams with delight and Noah beckons for Charlotte to join them. Charlotte looks at me.
“Is it safe to leave you two alone together?”
I roll my eyes. “What do you think is going to happen exactly?”
“I don’t want Mike spreading rumors.”
“Mike Schmike,” I say, glancing over to where Mike and Emily are throwing a frisbee again. “I’m fine. ” I hold up my ring finger where the diamond glitters in the sun. “I’m happy. I’m engaged. Caden is no threat to that. Got it?”
A grin tugs at Charlotte’s lips. “Got it.”
“Now go have fun with Joni and the boys,” I say.
“Okay, okay,” Charlotte says, standing and brushing the sand off her knees before heading into the water. I lay back down again, trying to soothe the churning in my stomach.
A few moments later, a shadow passes over me, blocking out the sun. I open my eyes and see Caden standing there.
“Can I sit?” he asks, pointing to the empty towel next to me.
“Sure,” I say.
He turns and, in one devastating motion, yanks his shirt over his head.
The volume of the world fades—the cries of children, the screech of gulls, the rush of waves, it all turns to a dull hum in my ears. Caden is everywhere . His abs ripple as he sits, his tattoo reaching across one shoulder and spreading down over his left pec. I see a hummingbird perched among the vines on his chest. I quickly grab my sunglasses and jam them over my eyes, staring up at the cloudless sky.
But I can’t help peeking at him again as he stretches out on the towel, leaning back against his elbows and watching Charlotte and Joni try and knock each other off the boys’ shoulders. The planes of his chest are smooth—I have a sudden, vivid memory of raking my fingers over his skin that night we spent together. Feeling the hard dents of muscle. The pressure of his palm against my thigh. The heat of his mouth on my sex.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a measured breath.
“Where’s Luke today?” Caden asks. His voice is equally measured, but his question makes me jump.
“He’s at a bachelor party this weekend,” I say.
“Oh,” he says. He stretches out one hand to draw shapes in the sand. “So…how long have you two been together?”
I crook an eyebrow at him. “Do you really want to know?”
He looks at me with muted intensity. “Yes.”
“Nine months,” I say.
He seems to have prepared himself not to react at all. He nods, turning his eyes to the ocean. “How did it start?”
I tell him about Luke coming into Magnolia’s Petals. Another careful nod.
“When did you get engaged?” he asks.
“Three months ago.”
“I thought he lived in the city.”
“He does,” I say.
“Are you moving to New York then?”
I shrug. “We’ll split our time between there and here. We both have obligations.” I smile privately. “We don’t have to be living together to have a good relationship.”
Caden looks surprised. “You’re not going to live together after you’re married?”
“No, that’s not—we just need to work out the specifics,” I say. “He knows how important the Thorn is to me, and I know how much he needs to be in the city to advance his career. It’s just a matter of finding the right balance.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t sound convinced and it makes me bristle. Who is Caden to judge my relationship?
“So what do you guys do together?” he asks.
“What’s with the twenty questions, Caden?” I say, exasperated.
His jaw clenches. “I just want to know that you’re happy.”
“Seriously? If you cared about my happiness, you wouldn’t have left.” I see him flinch and it fills me with righteous indignation. “I am happy. Luke makes me happy. Yes, he lives in the city, but we make it work. He’s always there when I need him. He knows that I love what I do, and he respects my independence. He’s kind to my parents and to Grace. He wants the same kind of life I want—marriage, kids, a happy home together.”
“I just can’t picture you living in the city,” Caden says.
“I don’t care what you can picture,” I say, louder than I intended. “I am not yours to be concerned about anymore.”
I move to stand and find myself suddenly pitching forward, another wave of lightheadedness washing over me.
“Whoa,” Caden says, catching me in his arms.
“Get off ,” I mumble, pushing feebly against his huge bicep. It feels like pushing against a brick wall.
“Isla,” Caden says, “you’re burning up.”
“I’m fine,” I say, but my head pounds and I feel dizzy and a little bit nauseous.
“You’re not fine,” he says. “Your skin is on fire.” He still has his arms around me, his face so close. I can see the dusting of a five o’clock shadow along his jaw line, the dent between his brows. His eyes are the color of the ocean.
“You should see a doctor,” he adds.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say. I mean to snarl but I can’t catch my breath. His mouth is so close. I feel the faint whisper of his thumb against the inside of my elbow. His sun-warmed skin pulses where it touches mine. Then he releases me.
“At least let me take you home,” he says. “You should—it would be a good idea to rest. That’s all.”
I hate to admit it, but he’s right. I’m really feeling terrible.
“Okay,” I say.
“Do you want me to ask Charlotte to take you?” he says.
I look out at the ocean, where my best friend is splashing around in the waves and generally having a blast. I don’t want to pull her away from this day.
“Or I could take you home,” Caden offers.
I bite my lip. Bad idea , a voice in the back of my mind whispers.
“Okay,” I hear myself say again. Caden turns away so I can’t see his expression.
“I’ll just go tell Noah we’re leaving,” he says, standing and striding off to the shoreline.
I’m zipping up my shorts when Charlotte’s voice carries across the water. “You okay?” she calls to me.
I give her a thumbs up and a big smile and a wave. Her eyes narrow but then Caden says something to her, and she gives a reluctant nod. He comes back and puts his shirt on, thank god.
He jerks his head in the direction of the parking lot and we walk to the Camaro.