Chapter 30
THIRTY
PRESENT DAY
Garrett
Thank God we’re in a public place and this bar is between us, or the things I’d do to her would make last night’s kiss seem like a chaste peck on the cheek.
Damn it, I am so completely screwed. Madeline is like a current pulling me out to sea and all I can do is hold my breath and hope I don’t go under.
It’s always been this way with her. And I’m starting to realize that it always will be.
Which means that the smartest thing I could do is get the hell out of here.
Madeline tears her eyes from mine when Chloe approaches and sets a tray of empty glasses on the counter. I recognize my chance to flee, but a moment goes by and then another one, and hell, I’m still standing here.
“How’s it going, Garrett?” Chloe asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension.
“There’s some guy who was hassling Madeline,” I say. “Mid-thirties, brownish hair. Let’s keep him out of here.”
Chloe frowns. “I think I know who you mean. The guy sitting here earlier today?” She nods at the seat the guy vacated. “ If he’s harassing Madeline, he’s done here.” She turns to Madeline. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. He was just being a little pushy.”
Chloe looks at me. “Did you toss him on his ass?”
“I was eight seconds away.”
“Good.” She pats my arm affectionately. “Madeline, I’ll drive you home tonight, okay?”
“You don’t have to do that,” Madeline says. “You have your daughter to get home to. I’ll be fine.” But she bites her lip nervously and takes a sideways glance at the door.
Anger rises in my chest, and I promise myself I won’t be so nice the next time I see that guy.
I shouldn’t get involved but damn it. I know I’m going to.
“You’ll be fine because I’ll walk you home.
” So much for getting the hell out of here.
But then our eyes meet again, and a bolt of lightning hits me in the chest. There’s no point in fighting it. “I’ll see you at closing time.”
“How do you know Madeline?”
The sound of her name jerks my attention from Madeline’s movements behind the bar. I scrub a hand over my face and focus on my best friend across the table. “Sorry, what?”
Ian hitches his chin at the bar. “Madeline. When I met her the other day, you guys seemed to know each other.”
“Uh.” I hate lying, especially to my best friend.
When I moved to Sandy Harbor, I swore that I’d live my life as authentically as possible.
There were some things nobody could ever know about me, but I wasn’t going to tangle myself in a web of deceit, unable to keep my story straight.
Aside from stretching the truth about a few things from my past—like where I grew up—I’ve kept that promise to myself.
Which is why I’m almost tempted to spill the truth to Ian about Madeline.
I know I could count on him to listen without judgment.
But what holds me back—what’s held me back for the past decade—is my fear of putting anyone else that I love in danger.
The less Ian knows, the less likely he is to get caught up in anything if the wrong people track me down. So, I keep my secrets locked up tight and give the closest version of the truth I can come up with. “I met her on the beach the other day.”
“Really? I could have sworn you guys were talking like you were old friends.”
I lift a shoulder in a motion I hope comes off as casual. “I guess some people just make friends easily.”
Ian eyes me, a grin spreading across his face. “This is the first time I’ve seen you interested in getting involved with a woman who’s planning to stick around for longer than a week.”
“I’m not getting involved with her.”
“Sure,” he says in an infuriatingly skeptical tone.
“And she won’t be sticking around very long.”
“I heard she grew up here.”
I nod. “Yeah, she left when she was in high school. Did you know her?”
He studies Madeline from across the bar, and I take any opportunity to look, too. Her hair is tied up on top of her head in a messy bun, and little tendrils fall around her face. Ten years ago, I would have tucked one behind her ear, and she would have given me a soft smile.
“She looks kind of familiar,” Ian says. “But I don’t think I knew her.”
“Her older sister might have been closer to your age. Josie Sullivan?”
Ian’s eyes slowly widen, as if he’s processing the name. “I knew Josie Sullivan.” He gives a little shake of his head. “Totally had a thing for her, actually.”
“Really?” I look at my best friend. My old life and new one colliding in unexpected ways. “You guys dated?”
“Not exactly… Josie was a server at the Harbor Country Cl ub where my sailing club used to meet. We flirted and definitely had a connection, and I thought it was going somewhere. But my dad died, and then when I finally looked up from dealing with contracts and payroll and supporting my mom, Josie was long gone. Off to college, I guess.” He blows out a slow breath.
“I couldn’t blame her, really. I mean, we were just kids, and she had her whole life ahead of her.
Why would she want to deal with the drama of my grief and responsibilities?
” His face turns wistful, and he takes another look at Madeline. “I hope Josie is doing well.”
I wish I could reassure Ian that Josie leaving abruptly and without a word likely didn’t have anything to do with his responsibilities or grief.
Josie and Madeline’s family had their own drama when they took off from Sandy Harbor, one their mom isn’t talking about.
But I’m not supposed to know much about that.
Keeping this secret from my friend isn’t a lie but it feels like one, and it grates on me.
Chloe slips past us between tables, expertly balancing a tray of drinks on her shoulder that she unloads on the table behind us. On her way back to the bar, she props a hip against the back of a chair to chat with us.
“The new bartender seems to be working out,” Ian says, still gazing at Madeline as if he’s looking for traces of Josie in her features.
Chloe nods enthusiastically. “It’s going to be so nice to not have to work seven days a week. If she’s as competent as she seems, I might actually get a real summer with Ellery.”
I can’t help but smile when Chloe mentions her daughter.
I’ve known Ellery since Chloe moved to the island when Ellery was a baby.
Almost eight years later, she’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to my own kid.
Chloe is a single mom who’s juggling everything on her own, so both Ian and I spend as much time with Ellery as we can, picking her up after school when Chloe has to work and taking her to the beach to teach her to surf during the summer.
Ellery is a great kid, funny and opinionated like her mom, and having her in my life is one of the best parts of living on Sandy Harbor.
Ellery is another reason why I can’t just leave this island behind.
She’s never even met her deadbeat dad, who abandoned her before she was born.
How would Chloe explain it to her if I took off, too?
Chloe doesn’t deserve that, and Ellery really doesn’t deserve that.
It’s just one more reason why I need to be smart about Madeline, to keep my distance, and get her out of here as quickly as possible.
But then my gaze slides back to the bar.
Another tendril of hair slips out of Madeline’s bun and falls around her face, and something clutches in my chest.
I am so screwed.
I meet Madeline outside the bar after her shift is over, and we walk down the beach again.
The air is cooler than last night, the mid-June weather still making up its mind whether it’s spring or summer.
Madeline shivers and wraps her arms around herself, rubbing her hands on the bare skin not covered by her Hudson’s T-shirt.
I wish I’d brought a sweatshirt to offer her, but I’d gone home to sand cabinets in my workshop until the bar closed, and when I left, I was still warm from the labor.
“Do you want to walk on the road instead?” I ask. “There will be less of a breeze.”
“No, I’m okay.” Madeline looks affectionately out at the waves. “I want to soak up every chance to be by the ocean. I’ll miss this when I go back to teaching in Maple Ridge this fall.”
I should feel a rush of relief to hear her talking about leaving here and going back home. But all I can think about is that kiss on her doorstep last night, and how she admitted she wants to do it again. Is she thinking about that now?
The breeze from the ocean picks up, and Madeline shivers again. I reach out hesitantly, holding my arm out. “Can I share the warmth?” She leans into my side, and I wrap an arm around her.
“You smell like sawdust,” she says, turning her head toward me.
“Sorry, I was working before I came back to get you.”
“I like it.” She takes a deep breath in.
“Sawdust and ocean breeze. They ought to make candles in that scent.” Madeline reaches up to brush a sprinkling of sawdust off my T-shirt, her fingers trailing across my chest. She seems to realize what she’s doing because she quickly draws her hand away. “Sorry.”
“I like it,” I say, repeating her words.
She presses her lips together. Yeah, she’s definitely thinking about that kiss.
I could get used to this. Picking her up from work, walking her home, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her against me.
I press my free hand to my forehead, feeling it heat up, and try to think of something distracting. “Do you work tomorrow?”
“The bar is closed tomorrow.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m thinking of going to find the house where I grew up. Whatever happened to it, I think I should face it. Like you said, get closure.”
“Would you like me to go with you?”
She looks up at me, a hopeful expression on her face. I can tell she wants me to go, but she says, “I don’t want to take you from your work.”