Chapter Thirteen
Audrey
What am I the best at? I’d have to say running. If I get scared, it’s exactly what I do. Why? Who knows. I’ve never lived in fear. I’ve had an incredibly sheltered life. But romance scares the heck out of me. So I didn’t ask Wolf any questions about who his parents are, and therefore I didn’t have to answer any questions about who I am.
Now, the salty breeze is kissing my cheeks as the Catalina Express Ferry docks in Avalon on Catalina Island. I wait in the line of people, then my sandals click softly on the weathered wood planks as I step onto the pier, dragging my sleek suitcase behind me.
I decided to do another blog, and this one is all about Catalina Island’s hidden gems. It’s a perfect getaway for anyone wanting to travel to paradise without having to go too far. I think it might be my favorite blog yet. I feel a bit guilty about running away, but it’s hard to have too much regret when I’m in such an amazing place. A part of me wishes Wolf was with me. But this trip is about more than work, it’s also about me. How much of myself do I want to invest in this relationship? I can now admit it’s going someplace, even if I don’t know where that place is.
I take in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet Pacific Ocean air as I look around at the postcard view with Avalon Harbor twinkling like the jewel it is. Sunlight reflects off of the sailboats as pelicans dive beside them, looking for lunch. The pastel buildings along Crescent Avenue seem to be smiling in the distance, welcoming the newest visitors to the island too few get to experience.
I have to pause as I remind myself this is a work trip. Of course I’m going to enjoy it as I love all of my travels. It’s why I do what I do. There’s no reason for me not to do a job I love. I think everyone should find their passion and go for it. Yes, it can be scary, but the rewards for doing what you love are well worth the risk.
I have my itinerary, printed out and color-coded, saved on my phone, but I always like a hard copy. There’s something extremely satisfying about crossing things off of a list instead of deleting on an electronic device.
It doesn’t matter how much work I have to do, because the island’s charm is already tugging at me like a mischievous child, whispering for me to relax, stay a while, and drink some buffalo milk.
Many of the crowd are doing the same as I am, in no hurry to be anywhere. What I hear most when people talk about the island, is that time seems to slow. The need to rush, the need to worry, the need to be in the real world simply disappears. I move along the wide walkway toward my first stop, the Bluewater Grill. It’s rumored to have the best seafood in town, and I’ve been told their Ponzu Scallops are one of the best things a person can ever eat. To top all of that, it has an excellent waterfront view. I’ll have to see if this is true. I like to be thorough in my reviews.
I arrive within ten minutes. I could’ve gotten there sooner, but I’m taking my time strolling the walkway and stopping to take pictures. I want to see everything, take it all in. My fingers already twitch to start writing, and I’ve barely arrived.
Stepping onto the wooden, covered patio outside seating area, a familiar voice calls out with entirely too much smugness and amusement. I stop dead in my tracks as I look up into the most devastating green eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the most beautiful journalist in her natural habitat, chasing a good story and dodging commitment.”
“What in the world are you doing here?” I gasp as he gazes at me like the cat who’s about to consume the canary. Leaning back in his chair, wearing aviator sunglasses and a smirk so smug it deserves its own zip code, is none other than Wolf.
“Surprise!” he says with a tried innocence the man will never be able to pull off.
“How did you know I was coming here?” I demand. The scariest part of all is that I’m not too upset to see him. I did this trip to gain some perspective, but he’s hard to resist, and this island is made for lovers.
Wolf taps his chin, faux-thoughtful. “I can’t give away all of my secrets or I won’t be able to do it again,” he tells me. He holds his hand out to the seat across from him that’s already set for a second person.
“Expecting company?” I ask.
He laughs. “Maybe. I’d hate to be stood up. You don’t want to miss out on a good meal, do you? I already have a buffalo milk and Ponzu Scallops on the way.”
Ugh. It’s like he’s read my mind . . . or peaked at my computer. I’ve said he’s dangerous all along, but I might’ve been underestimating the man. He’s beyond dangerous. Still, I sit, giving him exactly what he wants.
“You do realize I’m here to work, not play,” I tell him as I primly spread my napkin on my lap. It’s most likely going to get blown away in the breeze, but I need something to do with my hands. Otherwise, I might jump the man. I can be infuriated with him while still wanting to rip off his clothes. There’s a thin line between anger and lust.
“Work and play are the same thing. Plus, you have to experience all of the island if you want to write a comprehensive blog,” he reasonably says.
“Okay, I’ll have lunch with you, but then I’m leaving on my own,” I warn. He winks at me as if he’s not worried. I don’t know what else he has up his sleeve, but I need to be on my toes.
“You look stunning.”
I try not to fall for his charm. “Quit flirting.”
“Impossible,” he says. I roll my eyes.
My drink is placed before me, and I take a sip and sigh. It’s more delicious than the blogs described when I did research on the island. The scallops come out next, and I greedily consume five of them. Yep, they’re that good.
I want to try everything, but limit my order to grilled swordfish tacos, shrimp ceviche, and a citrus salad in the name of health. The waiter jokes with Wolf for a moment, confusing me. Does he have relationships with staff in restaurants all around the US?
“Do you make a habit of getting to know all restaurant employees?”
He laughs. “Well, I guess now’s the time to admit, I practically grew up on this island.”
I’m shocked. “Really. I grew up in Long Beach and never came here before. I find that a crime now.”
“Yep, my family has owned a house on the bluff since well before I was born.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” It’s hard to have a conversation when I keep stuffing my mouth as more food is brought out, but we somehow manage it. Everything tastes amazing.
“We haven’t talked about a lot of things. Maybe we should start,” he suggests.
“We’re having fun,” I remind him, instantly growing nervous as he makes any hint of deepening our relationship.
“You’re the first woman to ever make me nervous, Audrey Beach. I want to share with you even if it terrifies me at the same time.”
I pause as I gaze at him. It’s like we’re on the same page, both terrified of closeness without really knowing why. Maybe more people are afraid of being hurt than they’re willing to admit.
“Why me?” I ask in a rare moment of vulnerability.
He leans forward. “Because you didn’t fall for the act. You seem to see right through it all, and you’re still here.”
This is growing too deep for me, even if another part of me wants to go deeper. I change the subject to food. That’s always a safe topic. “This is spectacular. I might gain ten pounds in a few days if all of the food is this good.”
He pauses for a moment, most likely trying to decide if he’s going to let me off the hook or not. I hope he does. If this relationship is going to develop, there’s no reason for us to rush into anything.
He finally smiles. “I told you it’s excellent.” I give him a thankful smile.
We eat and banter like old friends. I laugh while he describes different shenanigans he’s pulled over the years on the island. My stomach hurts from laughing as he describes one time he was chased by a pelican he may or may not have provoked with French Fries. Since I’m on my second Buffalo Milk, I’m more relaxed.
“I’m sensing a theme here,” I tell him. “You seem to antagonize birds quite often.”
“Those things might look innocent, but I assure you they aren’t. They start it every single time. I’m simply a closer,” he says, doing a great job of looking like the victim. The man could be an actor if he wanted. I shake my head at him.
“What’s next on the official Audrey Beach itinerary?” he asks, finishing the last of his tacos.
“I want to drop off my bags then go to the Wrigley Memorial and Botanical Garden,” I tell him. “There are trails, and I can see all of the island foliage in one place.”
“Perfect. You’ll need a guide who knows the ins and outs of the island,” he says.
“I have maps and I’ve explored many places on my own before,” I assure him. He shakes his head.
“To truly be accepted here and get all of the information you could ever want, you have to be with a local. Otherwise, you’ll only get surface information, not the good stuff.”
He’s not wrong. It doesn’t take me long to cave. We leave the restaurant, check into my place, which he’s not thrilled about since he’s trying to talk me into staying with him, drop my bags, then return to Crescent Avenue to begin our exploration.
“It really does seem like this place is frozen in time,” I say.
“It’s part of the charm of the community. There are very few car permits allowed on the island. The wait list to have a regular vehicle is over thirty-five years now. The majority of people here walk, take bikes, or drive golf carts. I love it. It not only forces everyone to slow down but also reduces the noise pollution. There’s nothing better than taking a walk at two in the morning when it’s really quiet. The lights, nature sounds, and smells are incredible.”
We make our way up the hill the town’s built on to the Wrigley Memorial and Botanic Garden. I like it. The Memorial is massive and fun to explore. The man was certainly a legend on the island he bought. Who in the world can buy an entire island? Apparently, the Wrigleys. We hike up a trail through native desert flora, cacti taller than I am, and bursts of purple flowers. From the top, the view of Avalon Harbor sparkles like a sapphire tucked into green hills.
“My dad used to bring us here often,” Wolf says, his voice more subdued. “He always told me it was a great place to think. He wasn’t wrong.”
I steal a glance at him, trying not to fall in love. There’s something about Wolf when he talks about his parents that draws me closer to him. There’s a true softness beneath all of his swagger. I store away these moments like found treasures.
When we’re done, we make our way back to town and head to the famous Green Pier that has several of the island tours, food, and fishing charters. We find Mario leaning against the rail. Wolf introduces me, and the man gives an easy smile that makes me feel at ease.
“What are you up to this fine afternoon?” Mario asks.
“Exploring,” he says.
“Have any golf cart races scheduled with the tourists?” Wolf laughs as he shakes his head.
“Not today, Mario,” he says. “Well, unless someone starts talking trash, then you know I have to put them in their place.”
Mario looks at me. “I think you could beat him. You look like a scrapper.”
Now I’m bonded to the man. “I agree, I could take him out,” I say.
We say goodbye, then head back down the street and stop at the Catalina Coffee and Cookie Company and grab iced lattes and what they say is the world’s best brownie. They aren’t wrong. A couple is playing music, so we sit and listen.
“That’s Eddie and Cindy. They play every weekend, and more days in the summer,” Wolf tells me.
“They’re very good. He has an incredible voice.” I’d be happy to sit here all day and listen while writing.
“Play something romantic,” Wolf calls out. I feel my cheeks heat.
“What do I get out of it?” Cindy calls back.
“My undying gratitude,” Wolf says with a wink. She shakes her head, but they begin playing Hooked on a Feeling . I laugh.
We finish our snack, then decide to walk off the calories so we’ll be able to consume more. We move up through Avalon Canyon, the road lined with eucalyptus trees that look as if they’ve seen better days as they sway gently in the breeze.
“Wrigley’s wife had all of these trees planted because her husband would stay out late drinking with his friend. But they aren’t native to the island, so they’ve been sick, and that’s why they look the way they do. She also put in the Bell Chime tower to annoy her husband because he’d stay out partying so late. She made sure the tower chimed every fifteen minutes just to annoy him.”
I laugh. “Now that’s a woman after my own heart.”
“Women can be mean,” he says with his own chuckle. Everywhere we look there’s beauty. Plants are spread across terraces, a patchwork of desert colors and textures, aloe, prickly pear, and vibrant native succulents.
“This really is peaceful,” I tell him, stopping to admire a sprawling agave.
“Yes, it is. The more you get out of the busy touristy areas, the more peaceful it is.”
“My mother loved walking all areas of the island. It’s safe with no predator animals and very low crime. She’d bring us on overnight trips deeper into the island, and we’d make camp, having small fires and cooking meals while telling stories. She said it was good for our souls to see nearly untouched areas.”
“You don’t talk much about your mom,” I point out.
“I don’t talk about a lot of things,” he says, trying to shake off his sadness. He immediately shakes his head. “That’s an excuse. It’s hard to accept that she’s gone even after so many years. I miss them both very much. It’s always harder here because we were so close and had so many adventures together.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I can’t imagine it gets easier.”
“No, but the pain lessens over time. Once in a while it slams back into me, though, like a wrecking ball, usually at the most unexpected moments.”
“Tell me something great about them.”
He smiles. “They were wild and free. They loved to travel, but also loved being home. They’d laugh all day and find joy in whatever they were doing. My mother loved to dance, and it wouldn’t take long for my father to pull her into his arms, tuning out the rest of the world as they gazed at each other like it was the first time they’d seen one another. We’d make gagging sounds, but we secretly loved how much they loved each other and us. By the time we were teens we knew that was unusual as the majority of our friends’ parents were divorced. I’m glad we appreciated what we had. Sure, we didn’t always appreciate it as much as we should, but we knew we had a special family. I don’t understand why they were the ones taken too soon. I’ll never understand it, but I live for them as much as for myself because it’s what they would’ve wanted.”
“If everyone could have a love like theirs, fear would evaporate,” I say with a chuckle.
“Maybe there are more people in the world like them than we think. It’s just that the bad ones are so loud they’re what we hear.”
“I’d love to think that’s true,” I tell him, my eyes a bit teary. He bumps into my shoulder.
“Hey! No getting all misty-eyed on me. This is the place of dreams and possibilities. Only happiness is allowed.”
I chuckle as I blink away tears. “Okay, macho man, I won’t tell anyone what a real softie you actually are.”
He laughs. “Good. I have a reputation to maintain.”
I roll my eyes but lean against him. I believe it’s far too late for me not to fall in love with this man. But just because I think that might be happening, doesn’t mean I’m going to admit it out loud.
We take a different route back down the hills, and we’re on a seemingly never-ending staircase. If I want to build some muscles, I’m certainly in the right place. We’re moving slower now as the sun dips low, painting the harbor in molten gold. The laughter between us has softened into something warm and familiar, and I don’t hesitate when he takes my hand.
We stop at Antonio’s Pizza and share a few slices, then make our way back to the Green Pleasure Pier, which now has far fewer people on it as all of the businesses are closed. We stand at the end of the pier and look out at the harbor lights, peace filling me.
Wolf stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle, warming me from the outside in. I’m in big trouble here, worse than I thought. I didn’t intend to come here with Wolf, but if I was trying to maintain distance with him, I’ve failed miserably. I feel closer to him than ever before.
“My mother said the sea is clearest when you’re standing still,” he whispers, not wanting to break the moment. I turn around in his arms so I can look into his eyes.
“Your mother was a wise woman. Thank you for today. I don’t know how it could’ve been more perfect.”
“I know how the night can be more perfect,” he says with a sexy smile that makes me want to accept the offer that’s clearly there. I can’t figure out what I’m feeling, though, when I’m lost in his arms.
He leans down and kisses me with care and tenderness. His lips taste of salty air and my heart beats out of control. Emotions curl through me as the waves gently lap against the shore and the darkness of the night wraps us in its arms. For this moment, the world disappears as we’re surrounded by our own bubble no one’s allowed to enter.
He pulls back too soon. “Stay with me tonight.” It seems so natural to simply agree. It takes all I have to shake my head.
“I have to work tonight. Words are flowing through my head, and if I go home with you, I not only can’t write about my accommodations, but we both know zero work will get done.” I laugh as I reach up and cup his cheek.
He looks as if he wants to argue, but shocks me when he smiles. “You’re right. Zero work will get done because I want to make love to you until the sun rises.”
My stomach flips as I grow wet and hot. I want to immediately change my mind. I know how much pleasure this man brings.
“You’re almost impossible to resist.”
His smile grows. “Good. That’s the plan. I’ll walk you to your place.”
I shake my head as I reluctantly pull from his arms and step backward. His smile falls away. I instantly feel cold even though it’s a warm night.
“We both know if you walk me there, you’ll come inside. We also know it will be great. I’ll see you tomorrow, Wolf.” I blow him a kiss, then spin around and jog away. He could easily chase after me, catch me, and certainly change my mind.
When he doesn’t, I fall a little bit more in love with him. Sure, there’s one part of me that wants him to do just that, but the fact that he respects me enough to honor my work and my word makes me realize he’s like no other man I’ve met before. I don’t think I’m falling in love with him, I know I am.
I reach my hotel and find my way to my lonely room that’s perfectly comfortable with a great staff. None of that matters. All that’s on my mind is Wolf Young. I don’t know how our story is going to play out, and I certainly don’t know how it’s going to end. I might be testing him, but I have a feeling he’s testing me just as much. What I don’t know is what the results are going to be.