Chapter 28
Jason
I can’t breathe, can barely think past the roaring No in my head.
The man with his hands on Rowan… the one who walked through my front door while I was trying to find a fucking charger for my phone, gives up a weary laugh. Like What a day, huh?
I hate him. I know who he is. I recognize him from the funeral. If I didn’t, well, he wouldn’t be anywhere near Rowan, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be laughing.
I’m a threat who has built his career on knowing where I’m needed and what to do. I protect my team, my puck, my game from the assholes who think it’s all theirs.
Off the ice, I take care of my friends. The people who rely on me.
Once, I was even able to protect Rowan.
But right now, with the man whose ring she was wearing three months ago standing ten feet away… staring at the woman I want to be mine like she’s still his… I don’t fucking know what to do.
This is the guy she planned to marry.
And I want his fucking hands off of her.
I want her to push him away and tell him to get off our island. That he had his chance, and he blew it.
She doesn’t. She wouldn’t.
And it’s with gut-gnawing awareness that I realize not once this weekend has she said an unkind word about the doctor who spent the past year working at a clinic on the other side of the globe, doing good things for sick children.
She doesn’t blame this utterly selfless, deeply decent asshole for falling in love with that place and the people he worked with there.
Or even for upending her life so completely after she already gave up everything in Portland for him.
She hasn’t said she hates him. Or more importantly, that she was glad he was gone.
And now the most selfless, dedicated do-gooder on the planet has even more selflessly sacrificed his passion or calling or whatever driving factor it was… for her.
I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Can’t read anything past the stunned shock in her expression.
She blinks, and when she opens her eyes, they find me.
I look for the relief in the contact. The quiet promise that we’re okay, that nothing has changed. That our casual, see-how-things-play-out bullshit slow roll isn’t at stake.
But all I see staring back at me is distress, and it fucking wrecks me.
“Oh God!” Ron yelps, jerking back, hands flying up in defense like I was coming at him.
You’d know if I was, asshole. “Ron, right?”
The guy looks like he’s about to piss himself, and then Rowan has her hand lightly on his shoulder. And I hate him even more.
“Ron,” she urges, leaning into his field of view.
But then it must click because his brows nearly hit the ceiling, and then he’s rearing back, clutching his chest as he gives up a choked laugh. “Wait! The stepbrother, right?”
Rowan’s eyes cut between us. “Ed’s son.”
I give a tight nod, knowing her halfway clarification is the best she could probably come up with under the circumstances.
“The infamous Jason Stanvic. Static. Wowza, for a second there—” He cuts off with one of those whoowee noises that is every kind of relief I’m not feeling.
Because yeah, for a second there, before the power came back on, I’d thought that maybe I could ask her for more… that maybe she wanted me to.
But then… this guy.
And right now, it’s taking everything in me not to toss Rowan over my shoulder and carry her into the back so I can beg her to give us a chance.
Ron casts Rowan a meaningful look. “Marsha didn’t mention he was here.”
She swallows hard. “I— I didn’t want to upset her.”
It’s the truth the same way referring to me as Ed’s son is. It’s the truth. Just not all of it.
“Right. Copy on that.” He looks around, and I wonder if he’s going to ask Rowan for the tour. If he can talk to her privately in her room. But then his attention bounces to me. “Don’t have to tell you about getting on that woman’s bad side, right?”
“Right.” I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m intentionally standing back so I don’t intimidate this asshole. But I’m dying inside. I have no idea what to do or say, because none of what’s running through my head would be fair to Rowan.
I can’t ask this guy how he could leave her for a year. I can’t demand to know what he was thinking when he decided to do it again or how a guy like him could ever have caught Rowan’s attention.
I can’t ask him to stop looking at Rowan like she’s his. Because she might be, and I just don’t know it yet.
Rowan clears her throat and gives me an apologetic look. “Would you mind if we…” She gestures between her and Ron and… Shit.
Privacy. She wants them to have privacy.
Right. “Oh, yeah. I’m, umm. I should check my phone.”
A beat passes where neither of us looks away. And then she’s turning to Ron, giving him a soft smile as she suggests they talk outside.
“Been stuck inside for two days waiting out the storm to be able to get across to you. Absolutely.”
She winces, and I know she’s thinking about what we’ve been doing for the last two days. Or maybe just I am.
I want to catch her and whisper in her ear that she didn’t do anything wrong.
They weren’t together, and he left the damn country without her.
No one was cheating or betraying another person’s trust. I know she knows it, but she’s also the kind of person who takes more responsibility for other people’s feelings than she should.
And even though they broke up, Ron being on this island means, in his mind at least, the relationship wasn’t completely over.
What I don’t know is, now that this guy Rowan planned to spend forever with is back, if their relationship is still over for her. That’s what’s eating a hole in my gut.
The screen door closes behind them, and I watch as Ron’s arm slides around her shoulders at the steps, then drops free after a brief squeeze.
“I know this is unexpected,” he says, giving her a tentative look.
I can see the rise and fall of her shoulders but not her face when she answers, “Ron, I don’t understand.”
“Look, I thought I was making the right call,” he says more urgently. “But once I got to the clinic, nothing felt right. I love my work there. You know what it means to me. But Ro, I think a lifetime with you would mean more.”
“Can we walk a little?” She waves toward the path around the back, and he nods, shooting a glance my way.
Voice lower, but still carrying in, he says, “Your brother. Right.”
My head drops, and I close my eyes, waiting for her to tell him I’m not her brother.
But all I hear is the lapping waves filling the silence.
“You see the way he looked at me?” From farther away. “Forget about your mom, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.” And then trailing off into the distance. “Must have been weird being stuck with him. How’d he end up here, anyway?”
After a slow breath, I straighten and look out at the empty space where they were standing. Tell myself in no uncertain terms that whatever happens next… It’s Rowan’s choice.
I want her like I want my next breath. But what I need is for her to be happy.
For now, all I can do is wait.
A chattering sounds from the bedroom where I left my phone on the glass-topped desk. Right, the phones are back.
I look around, the mix of my things with hers. The bed we demolished this morning.
She’s not bringing him in here. But if the guy had to pee, if he opened the wrong door… Fuck.
I make the bed and then throw my stuff into my bags. Easy enough to park them in the utility room until he’s off the island. Because he’s not staying. He’s not.
I haven’t checked my messages yet, and it’s not until I’m staring at Lenard’s name that I’m reminded that Rowan isn’t all that I have to lose.
I drop into my desk chair and read.
When I’m done, I look out the window, almost thinking I might see my dad out there. Strange, having just read through his last will and testament.
He’s not there. But in the distance, at the edge of the woods, Rowan and Ron are standing close together.
I stop breathing.
Her hand is on his cheek.
They’re looking into each other’s eyes.
He kisses her.
And I can’t fucking watch.