Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
PRESENT DAY
Josie
My eyes lock on Ian, and I’m stunned by his words.
I knew Ian had a strained relationship with his dad, but he didn’t talk much about his mom when we were teenagers.
The one time I met her, she was warm and kind to me, and I never saw evidence of the darkness Ian’s referring to.
But how likely is it that I would have in the twenty minutes we had drinks in the restaurant?
I have a vague memory of Alice casually suggesting Mrs. Langley might have had a drinking problem. But back then, I was too nervous to think of anything other than wanting to make a good impression on Ian’s parents.
My attention flies to the other part of Ian’s admission.
I shouldn’t be surprised about Christopher’s many affairs.
When I look back now, it makes sense, but like so many things that summer, I didn’t always see what was right in front of me.
Christopher Langley with his movie-star mystique and elusiveness that made everyone work harder to gain his favor.
But what really leaves me reeling are Ian’s words.
If my dad were still alive, my mom would be dead.
Was Mrs. Langley really on such a downward spiral that Christopher’s death was the thing that saved her? My heart breaks for Ian, who had to shoulder the reality of his dad’s betrayals and his mom’s struggles for so long.
“I never admitted this to anyone. Maybe not even myself.” Ian’s jaw tightens and my hand aches to reach up and soothe the pain there.
“I felt so much guilt over the fact that a part of me was relieved that my dad was dead. But maybe things happen for a reason.” His eyes search mine.
“Josie, I need you to know how grateful I am that you were on the dock that day. Because my life wouldn’t be what it is if it weren’t for you. ”
My vision blurs and then goes white. “What do you mean?” I ask breathlessly. He can’t possibly know my part in anything that happened. “When I was on the dock?” He can’t possibly know what happened on the dock.
Can he?
Ian nods. “When you came by to see me right after my dad died.”
Oh. I take a ragged breath and press my hand to my heart. “Right. Of course.” After his dad died. Not the time before that.
“I thought my life was over.” Ian’s face draws taut with emotion. He looks past me at the ocean beyond the windows as if he’s picturing the two of us on the dock, shocked by the news of Christopher’s death. “And then you said something to me.”
That day is such a blur. I arrived on the dock, terrified and desperate, and I never expected to find Ian. At the sight of him, my mind whirled with a million thoughts at once. What could I possibly have said back then to affect him this way?
“You told me that just because I inherited Langley Capital, I didn’t have to be like my dad.
I could be a better person. And that’s what I’ve spent my entire adult life determined to do.
” Ian takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly.
“When I was a kid, I never in a million years imagined I could be happy working for my dad’s company.
But taking over the business meant I could help out my community and protect the island from harmful development.
” He gives me a sideways smile. “That’s really what I always wanted to do. ”
My breath catches in my throat, and I’m struggling to breathe air into my lungs. The sadness and horror of that time slowly shifts inside me, making way for something else entirely.
Hope. Forgiveness.
I spent the last decade telling myself that I ruined Ian’s life.
I believed it was my fault he stayed on Sandy Harbor instead of going to Stanford and living out the dreams he had for himself.
But seeing the man standing in front of me, hearing these words come out of his mouth, how could I ever regret what I did?
And if that terrible day really was the turning point for his mother to stop drinking, for Ian to transform Langley Capital and become the man he is today…
Is it possible that I could finally tell him the truth about what happened that summer?
If Ian truly believes everything happens for a reason, maybe he won’t hate me for what I did.
He’s so different than his father, and of course hiding the man’s secrets became an incredible burden.
I know all about keeping secrets.
A relief, Ian called it. When his dad died, the weight lifted.
I long to finally be free of my own secrets, my own burdens. To be able to open up to my family. My sister, whose life was torn apart with no explanation. And Ian, the boy I fell for once, and the man I might be falling for again.
“You should be so proud,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Proud of what you’ve done with Langley Capital, and proud of the man you’ve become. You’re everything good that your dad wasn’t.”
And then I finally allow myself to do the one thing I’ve been fighting since my rental car started churning out smoke and Ian arrived, shirtless, sticky, and more appealing than any man I’ve ever met. I press onto my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to meet mine.
Ian’s breath hitches and he yanks me closer, tangling his hands in my hair and sliding his tongue into my eager mouth.
I fist his T-shirt, holding on to him like I should have done when we were eighteen.
He smells like sunshine and coconut and carefree days on a sailboat when our future together stretched as boundless as the ocean.
We stay there, his arms snaked around my back, my hand tracing the sharp line of his jaw, kissing like we never want to let each other go.
And for the first time in over a decade, I let myself believe that we don’t have to.
With that thought, I feel my legs weaken, and Ian tightens his grip to hold me more firmly against him.
I can feel his desire pressing against me, and I tuck my fingers into the waistband of his jogging shorts, working to untie the drawstring.
He hikes up my dress to slide his hand against the burning skin of my hip, my stomach, and then higher, cupping my breast through the lace of my bra.
A low moan reverberates from my chest, and I break our kiss just long enough to yank the flowy fabric over my head.
He takes a step back, eyes darkening like the sky after sunset as I reach behind me to unclasp my bra and drop it to the floor.
We come back together then, our kisses hot and urgent as he slowly backs up into the living room, grasping my elbows to tug me along.
His calves bump against the couch and he tumbles backward into the soft cushions, pulling me down on top of him.
His lips explore my jaw, my neck, and then lower. I gasp as pleasure pulses through me.
We never made it this far that ill-fated summer. At eighteen, I’d never been with anyone before, and he hadn’t wanted to rush me. Back then, we believed we had all the time in the world.
Almost as if he can read my thoughts, Ian stills. “Josie, there is nothing I want more than to do this with you. But I know you’ve been—” He pauses, searching for the right words. “—hesitant with me. I need to know you’re comfortable with this. Are you sure it’s what you really want?”
An ache fills my chest at the thoughtfulness of his question. Maybe he senses how important it is for me to feel in control of this moment. More likely, this is just who he is. Caring, thoughtful. So thoroughly different than his dad was.
“Ian, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.
” I reach up to brush his unruly hair off his forehead, realizing how many ways those words are true.
He’s not the first man I’ve ever been with, but he’s the first man I’ve ever felt safe with.
I was so afraid for so long. Afraid to open myself up, to trust someone, to move forward with my life.
I’ve been suspended. Frozen.
Until now.
My mouth crashes down on Ian’s in a kiss that’s hard, urgent, almost bruising.
He matches my intensity, threading his hands into my hair, angling my head for better access.
I grab at his T-shirt, finding the hem and breaking off the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head.
He adjusts his weight, shifting us so my back is against the couch cushions.
I lift my hips to wiggle out of my underwear as he stands to tug off his shorts and toss them on the floor.
When he comes back to the couch, I expect him to settle his weight on top of me, but instead, Ian tugs my legs around until my feet are on the floor and he’s kneeling between them.
He bends his head, pressing his mouth against the flower tattoo that winds around my hip.
I gasp as his lips skim over the sensitive skin, and then again as his tongue slowly traces the curve of vines to my inner thigh.
His eyes flicker to mine as he moves higher, and for a moment, apprehension curls in my stomach.
I’ve never let anyone do this before. It’s always felt like such a vulnerable act to be so open and exposed, so I quickly shut it down whenever a man tried to go there.
But this isn’t any man, it’s Ian, and I want this. I need this.
I let my legs drop open and my head drift back against the couch cushion.
With a satisfied hum, his mouth closes over me.
I clutch his shoulders as heat ignites in my core and spreads through my bloodstream.
The rhythm of his tongue intensifies, matched by the pressure of his fingers sliding inside me.
I feel myself drifting higher and higher until finally, my muscles tighten and then explode with a release like I’ve never felt before.
With a satisfied smile, Ian slides onto the couch next to me, and I climb onto his lap, straddling his hips.
I capture his mouth with mine as I press against him.
“Do you have condoms?” I whisper. I didn’t bring any because of course, I never, ever imagined I’d be here with Ian.
But now, the idea that we wouldn’t end up like this seems unthinkable.
“The side table,” he murmurs against my mouth. “The drawer.”
I find a condom, and he quickly puts it on. And then I sink down on him, and we move together, finally. And with that, the past floats away like a helium-filled balloon, gone on the horizon. All that’s left is this moment, the present, and maybe the future, too. Our future.
As soon as Madeline’s wedding is over, I’m going to tell Ian the truth about everything. In my heart, I know that a man as good and kind as Ian would never blame me for what I did.