Chapter 3
All day, Luke had vowed to stay away. After their conversation the night before, he had the closure he’d longed for.
He had the satisfaction of her apology, of knowing she’d suffered over what she had done to him, that she hadn’t left him behind and never thought of him again while she moved forward with another man. What more was there to say?
Apparently, a lot, he thought, laughing softly to himself as he pulled the boat onto the beach, announcing his arrival to her.
Would she be waiting? When she asked him to come back, had she meant the very next night?
Those were the questions that had tormented him all day as he went about his work at the marina, guiding boats, collecting payment, and shooting the shit with Mac, Mac’s father, “Big Mac” McCarthy, and the other old men who hung out on the docks.
Just another busy summer Sunday at McCarthy’s.
At midday, Mac had asked him if everything was okay.
Taken aback by the question, Luke had nodded, surprised to realize Mac had picked up on the disquiet that had overtaken him. Not that Luke was ever one to run on at the mouth, but Mac said he seemed distracted.
That was one way of putting it. Yes, he’d been distracted by thoughts of freckles dancing across a sunburned nose, the light timbre of her voice, the laughter he’d missed so much and the feel of her hand in his, her fragile bones and pale skin such a sharp contrast to his much larger hand.
Now, despite all his plans to the contrary, he was back for more.
The thought that he could be setting himself up for an even bigger disappointment than he’d suffered before nagged at him.
At the end of the month, she would leave the way she always did.
She would return to her life on the mainland while he stayed behind to weather another isolated winter on the island.
Since Mac had moved back to the island and started a small construction business, Luke stayed busy working with him in the off-season.
But still... the idea of spending time with her this summer and then watching her leave again...
Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, he gathered up the gift he’d brought for her, and calling himself fifty different kinds of fool, he headed up the overgrown path that led to her yard.
No matter what he might want to believe, he never had been able to stay away from her.
From the moment he first saw her scooping ice cream in town, he’d been drawn to her like a moth to flame. Why should now be any different?
Emerging from the reeds that lined the shoreline, he looked for her on the porch and was filled with relief when he saw her in the rocker, almost as if she’d been waiting for him. “Don’t go there,” he muttered. “She’s sitting where she sits every night. It’s got nothing at all to do with you.”
“Talking to yourself?”
Startled, he looked up to find her standing now and gazing down on him from the porch with mischievous laughter dancing in her eyes that soon slipped from her lips.
The melodic sound stopped him dead in his tracks as hundreds of memories of long-ago moments besieged him.
No one had ever gotten him to laugh at himself the way she had.
She’d poked and prodded and cajoled him right out of his shell.
Luke had always been quiet and reserved, content to sit back and watch life go by rather than actively participate.
Until he met Sydney. Until she forced him to participate.
With her, he’d been more open, more spontaneous, more talkative than he’d been with anyone else.
After she left him, he’d retreated right back into that shell, where he’d remained ever since.
“Luke?” He snapped out of his thoughts to find her laughter had faded to concern. “Are you coming up?”
“If you’re sure you want the company.”
She gestured to the stairs. “I’m sure.”
As he took the stairs to the porch, his hands felt clammy and his heart raced, the way it had all those years ago when he’d been a teenager in the throes of first love.
Nothing at all had changed since then. The realization left him staggered.
He still loved her as much as he ever had.
Despite everything that’d happened, despite the pain she’d caused him, he still loved her.
“Are you all right, Luke?”
For the second time that day, someone looked at him with concern. Apparently, he was doing a piss-poor job of hiding the fact that seeing her again had rocked his world.
Rather than try to explain his odd behavior, he withdrew the gift from behind his back. “For you.”
Her eyes lit up with surprise and delight. “You brought me something?”
“Don’t get too excited,” he said, suddenly wishing he’d brought her a real gift rather than the dead starfish she unwrapped with reverence.
“Oh, Luke. You remembered.” She ran a finger over the starfish. “I always loved them.”
“Yes, I remembered.” What an understatement! He remembered every damned thing they’d ever talked about, every damned moment that had ever transpired between them. Yes, he remembered.
“It’s beautiful. Where did you find it?”
“I saw it on one of the rocks by the marina at low tide and climbed down to get it.”
“It makes me so sad that such a glorious creature is dead.”
Her sadness gutted him. God, what had he been thinking bringing her, of all people, something dead? “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He started to reach for the starfish, but she hung on to it.
“Why are you sorry? It’s a very thoughtful gift.”
He wanted to shoot himself for putting that pensive look on her gorgeous face. “I didn’t mean for it to make you sad.”
“The damndest things make me sad these days, but then, I also find joy in things that might not have touched me before, such as a gift from an old friend who remembered how much I love starfish.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Luke stood frozen in place. The quick and spontaneous gesture, so typical of the Sydney he’d once known, left him riveted and thankful for the dark shadows on the porch that hid his instant reaction to her touch.
It had been a mistake to come here when he wanted her more than his next breath.
It was a mistake to restart something that couldn’t go anywhere, something that had the power to crush him all over again.
“I’m sorry,” she said, tuning in to his dismay. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come.”
She stared up at him with those clear blue eyes that had never contained an ounce of guile. “Why?”
He glanced at the floor, summoning the strength he’d need to walk away—this time for good. “I can’t do this. I really thought I could, but I can’t.”
“What can’t you do, Luke?”
“I can’t come here and pretend to be your friend when that’s not what I want.”
She winced, and her eyes shone with tears.
Luke hated that he’d caused her more pain. Like she hadn’t already had more than enough.
“I understand,” she said stoically. “I hurt you so badly. Why would you want to be my friend anymore?”
Luke uttered a softly spoken swear that was so far out of character for him, he could see he’d shocked her. “That’s not it. You apologized, and I meant it when I said I forgive you.”
“Then why can’t we be friends?”
As if attached to a string controlled by someone other than him, Luke’s hand reached out to caress her soft cheek. “Because what I want from you goes far beyond friendship, and you’re not ready for that.”
“Luke,” she whispered, gripping his wrist. She turned her face into his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm.
A tremble zipped all the way through him. Nothing had ever electrified him the way her touch did. With great reluctance, he withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. I wish I had it in me to be around you and not want more, but I can’t do it.”
“When it first happened,” she said tentatively, “the accident... I never imagined I’d get to a point where I’d be ready... to try again. With someone else. But now, it’s been more than a year, and it doesn’t seem quite so impossible to imagine anymore.”
“Syd,” he said, shaking his head. “I look good to you because I’m familiar, because you once had feelings for me, but I couldn’t bear to be your rebound guy or your transition guy, or whatever I’d be.”
She finally dared to glance up at him, and what he saw in her eyes and on her face made his heart stagger.
“Just because things ended the way they did between us doesn’t mean I didn’t still have feelings for you, and I would never use you to prove a point to myself or anyone else.
You mean too much to me, and after what I did to you once before... ” Her voice faded.
“What’re you saying?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
Luke told himself to get the hell out of there while he still could, but somehow his legs didn’t seem to get the message.
She rested her hands on his chest. “I don’t know for sure that I’m ready for what this might be. All I know is I don’t want you to go.”
Against his better judgment, his hands landed on her hips and drew her closer.
He really hoped she couldn’t feel what her nearness did to him.
The last thing he wanted was to scare her off by giving away how desperately he wanted her.
As his arms went around her, she relaxed into his embrace, and he was reminded of how they’d once fit together so perfectly.
The sweetness of the memory, the familiar scent of her hair and the hopelessness of the situation made him ache.
He held her tight against him, all the while telling himself it was unwise. This was a recipe for disaster for him—and maybe for her, too.
“Syd,” he said, drawing back from her. “I’m going to go. I want you to really think about this. You need to be sure you’re ready.” He framed her face and urged her to meet his gaze. “If we start this up again...”
“What?” she asked, breathless.
“The last time you walked away from me, I was a kid without any options. I’m a grown man now, and I wouldn’t let you get away so easily.”
Her lips parted as if she had something to say, but then her eyes fluttered closed.
Luke couldn’t resist the urge to brush a soft kiss over those perfect lips that had dominated his fantasies for such a long, lonely time.
The moment their lips connected, her eyes flew open.
“Think long and hard, Syd. Be sure it’s what you really want. Be sure you’re ready.”
“Luke—”
He rested a finger over her lips to quiet her. “If it’s tomorrow or next week or next summer or two summers from now, doesn’t matter. I’ll be here, and you’ll always be welcome. If you never feel ready, that’s okay, too.”
“That’s crazy,” she said. “You can’t wait forever for me.”
“I already have. I’ve never met anyone I like better than you. After a while, I stopped looking.” He kissed her forehead because he didn’t dare kiss her lips again. If he did, he might not be able to stop kissing her. “You know where to find me.”
Before he could let the possibility of never seeing her again set in, he got out of there. Without looking back, he went down the stairs, across the yard and into the reeds. Only when he was rowing his boat across the pond did he breathe again. What the hell had he just done?