Heartbreak Cove (Sanctuary Island) (RE8) (11 page)

“There were times when I thought about it, believe me.”

Taylor could relate. There were times after her mother’s death when all she could think about was the bone-deep desire to be somewhere else. Anywhere but where she was, in the middle of all that pain. But eventually, she’d realized that even if she managed to get away from the big, silent house on Shoreline Drive and the empty look in her dad’s sad eyes, she could never actually outrun her own sense of loss. So she’d stayed put, and distracted herself from her grief in other ways. Stupid, unhealthy ways, she saw now when she looked back. But at the time, underage smoking and drinking and getting into trouble with her previous best friend, Caleb Rigby, had seemed like a great idea. Right up until Caleb’s dad tossed him into military school while Taylor’s dad started dating Jo Ellen Hollister.

It was Jo who changed everything for Taylor. Not by replacing her mother—no one could ever do that—but by being someone Taylor could talk to about all the stuff that made her poor dad go all red-faced and bewildered. Jo got her, right from the very beginning, and Taylor needed that desperately. Almost as desperately as Matt seemed to need some kind of reconciliation with his dad.

Maybe reconciliation was impossible. Taylor had gotten to know Penny Harrington a little bit, and she saw in Matt’s mom a fiercely independent, strong, loving woman who’d fought through tough times without ever losing the ability to laugh. Taylor had an inkling that if Penny up and left Matt’s dad in the middle of the night, there must have been a pretty good reason for it. But Penny never badmouthed the guy and was so vague about the end of her marriage that Matt had a ton of unanswered questions.

If he couldn’t reconcile with his dad, Taylor thought, at least he could get some closure. “So why don’t you call him up? Or just send him the invitation and see what happens.”

Matt brightened, shoving his sunglasses up onto his head so he could squint at Taylor. “You think I should?”

Suppressing the satisfaction she always got when Matt demonstrated how much he valued her opinion, Taylor reached over to grab his outstretched foot and shake it encouragingly. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Ticking off his fingers, Matt said, “Dad could show up and upset my mom, get in a fistfight with Dylan, be mad at me for not trying to spend more time with him…”

Which was a two-way street, Taylor wanted to point out, but she didn’t want to hurt Matt. Instead she said, “Or you could warn your mom ahead of time so everyone is on their best behavior, and when he arrives, maybe they’ll work out some of their issues and make it easier for all of you from now on. I mean, amicable divorces happen. That’s a thing, right? Blended families and all that.”

“It’s a nice idea,” Matt said, obviously unaware of how clearly he was telegraphing his longing. “I don’t know, I’ll think about it.”

“When you really want to make it work, almost nothing can stop a family from coming together,” Taylor said with unshakeable conviction. “I should know. My dad and Jo and I have been through a metric ton of crap, including me being a total brat. If that wasn’t enough to detonate my family, yours should be able to get through one little high school graduation.”

Matt smiled, the slow, fond smile he seemed to reserve only for Taylor. “You’re not such a brat. In fact, I’d say you’re kind of amazing. And thanks for the advice. I’ll add my dad to the list of ticket requests for graduation.”

Beaming proudly, Taylor squirmed into a more comfortable position and relished the soft breeze and distant lapping of waves against the shore. “It’s time your parents figured out how to deal with each other. They’re adults! I’m sure they’ll work it out.”

And if Matt’s dad did show up and turned out to be as big a jerk as Taylor suspected … well, maybe it was time Matt realized the truth about that, so he could move on with no regrets. The way Taylor planned to do at the end of this summer.

Chapter Ten

The Firefly Café was jumping when Andie pulled into the parking lot. She cruised around slowly, looking for an empty spot and listening as Caitlin recounted—for the hundredth time—every moment she’d spent on Peony’s back. Even two weeks later, it was as fresh in Caitlin’s memory as if it had just happened, and the kid seemed to spend every waking moment either reliving her experience riding Peony or asking when she could do it again.

Andie grinned when Caitlin got to the part about stepping over the rails. Even though Andie had been there to personally witness the triumphant moment, she still liked to hear Caitlin’s bright, happy chatter.

Of course, she’d like it even better if Caitlin would chatter that way to her, but they were working on it. And in the meantime …

Andie’s gaze flicked up to the rearview mirror automatically to catch the gleam of Sam’s mysterious eyes. He noticed her looking and his lips curled up in a grin, sensual and dark with shared secrets.

She shivered, enjoying the tingling anticipation and the jump of her nerves. They’d spent a bit of time together over the last few weeks, training as volunteers and working with their first few clients at Windy Corner, but she hadn’t yet accustomed herself to the way he made her feel. Maybe she never would—maybe Sam Brennan would always be the one man who made those butterflies in her stomach start zooming around.

The thought was strangely appealing.

Tearing her attention away from the huge, muscular man in her backseat, Andie spied a car leaving one row over and hurried to slide the SUV into the vacant space.

“Tight fit,” Sam commented, eyeing the tan convertible mere inches from the right passenger-side window. “Am I gonna have to climb out through the trunk?”

“Yeah!” Caitlin popped up in the front seat to peer over the headrest as if contemplating making a break for it.

Andie narrowed her eyes at Sam’s reflection only to see his grin morph into a smirk. “No need. We’ll fit just fine.”

“You could’ve parked on the grass over there.” The helpful tone was at odds with the teasing glint in Sam’s eye.

Andie frowned repressively. “That’s not a real spot.”

“Who’s going to ticket the sheriff’s car?” Sam laid one brawny arm along the back of the bench seat, for all the world like a king surveying his domain. “It’s not a crime if you don’t get caught.”

“Actually, that’s not true.” Andie threw the SUV into park and turned to make sure Caitlin was listening. “That’s the exact opposite of true. Whether or not you get caught, it’s important to follow the rules.”

“Why?” Caitlin asked, looking skeptical.

Maybe instead of silently cursing Sam and his mocking smile for getting her into this conversation, she should be thanking him. This was a perfect opportunity to explain to Caitlin—and, incidentally, to Sam—why Andie cared so much about being sheriff.

It didn’t escape her that so far she and Sam were doing quite a bit of communicating through other people. If they ever found themselves alone in a room together, they might have a hard time making conversation.

Although, Andie admitted to herself, if she had Sam Brennan alone somewhere private, polite chitchat would be the last thing on her mind.

Wrenching herself out of that tempting fantasy, she focused on Caitlin’s expectant face. “We follow the rules because they help us live with other people. The rules are there to remind us that we—our own thoughts and desires and needs—are not the only thoughts and desires and needs in the whole world. Other people matter, and what we do can either hurt them or help them. Do you see what I mean?”

There was a long pause while Caitlin thought this through. She frowned like she didn’t like it much, but her voice was small and serious when she said, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

A little taken aback by Caitlin’s intensity, Andie exchanged a lightning-fast glance with Sam … who looked sad, but not shocked. Interesting. “That’s good,” Andie finally told her. “That’s a good way to be. So then, what if I parked over there, where it’s not really a spot and I’d be blocking that gray minivan from getting out easily? What would happen if the person who owned that van needed to leave the restaurant suddenly—”

“Why?” Caitlin demanded.

“Er, why what?”

“Why are they leaving the restaurant? Are they in trouble? Did they steal something?”

Andie blinked. “I was thinking more like, what if the man who owns the van found out his wife is sick and needs his help at home.”

“Oh, okay.” Caitlin relaxed back into her seat as if her strings had been cut. The vibrating tension of a few seconds before dissipated in the air like smoke.

“So if we blocked that spot,” Andie finished lamely, wondering where this conversation took a wrong turn, “that man and his wife would be hurt by it. But if we follow the rules and do the right thing, no one gets hurt.”

“Stealing is wrong,” Caitlin announced, her gaze directed out the passenger window. “It gets you in trouble and people get mad.”

Was this what it was always like with kids? You thought you were having one conversation, but they were on their own plane, doing their own thing. Andie decided to trust that she’d laid the groundwork for the whole right versus wrong lesson. “That’s exactly right. People shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to them. It’s wrong, and it hurts both people—the victim and the thief.”

The back door of the SUV closed with a clap, and Andie glanced over the console to see Sam standing at the rear of the vehicle. His wide, muscular back was turned but it looked as though he was staring up at the sky. Probably starving and wondering how long he was going to have to wait for the fried chicken Andie had promised him weeks ago as thanks for his help with Caitlin.

Andie hurried to get Caitlin zipped into her hoodie and out of the truck. Beckoned by the warm glowing lights strung around the seaside patio, Caitlin ran down to the low fieldstone wall at the far edge to get a look at the beach. Sam and Andie followed more slowly, and he didn’t seem impatient, after all. In the dusky twilight, his strong face looked thoughtful, as if he were processing what she’d said.

“Nice sermon back there, Sheriff.”

The words stung all the more because Andie had hoped for a few seconds that she might have gotten through to him. “I don’t mean to sermonize, but it’s important to me that Caitlin understand how the world works.”

He tilted his head back again, his fathomless gaze searching for answers among the stars. “And you truly believe that’s how the world works.”

“Absolutely.”

“Even the part about how if you never break the rules, you’ll never get hurt? If that’s truly been your experience of the world—well, you and I must live on different planets.”

The rueful twist to his handsome mouth tangled Andie’s tongue. “I guess … no, you’re right, I can’t claim that my rule-following lifestyle means I’ve never been hurt. But the worst things that have happened to me have all been a direct result of breaking some rule or other. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Sam’s eyebrows slashed down. “I don’t like the idea of bad things happening to you.”

“Bad things happen to everyone,” Andie said, her lungs so tight she barely gasped it out. “The trick is learning something from it and moving forward.”

A darkness deeper than the gathering night pooled in his eyes, and for a moment, the light laughter and clinking silverware of the few couples at the patio tables faded away. All Andie could hear was the rhythmic wash of the surf—or maybe that was the tidal rush of her own blood in her ears. Either way, the moment narrowed in until Andie forgot they weren’t alone.

“Damn it, Andie.” He lowered his forehead until it brushed hers. “You deserve better.”

Seduced by the intimacy and intensity of Sam’s bent head, his steady gaze, his granite jaw, Andie drifted closer to the muscular heat of his big body. “Better than what?” she demanded, her fingers taking over for her brain and stretching to clasp the body-warm flannel of his shirt.

“Better than me.” Sam punctuated the raw confession by seizing her mouth with his in a hungry kiss that jolted through Andie’s body with pure, perfect pleasure.

*   *   *

She filled Sam’s arms, and when she moaned, open-mouthed, into the kiss, Sam squeezed his eyes shut tightly enough to see bursts of colored light explode behind his closed lids.

Desire rode him unmercifully, galloping through his system, impossible to halt. Any thoughts about how wrong this was, how stupid and reckless and unfair it was of him to kiss Sheriff Andie Shepard—all of that was trampled beneath the rampaging lust coursing through his blood. Sam’s body went heavy and tight, harder than iron and hotter than sin.

He’d never known anyone like Andie. No woman had ever impressed him so much, so fast, with her strength and purpose. There was a bright, unwavering light at Andie’s core, and Sam wanted to warm himself at that fire more than he wanted his next breath.

This kiss was inevitable. Maybe it had been unavoidable since the first time he met her—but it was the way Andie was with her niece, the vulnerability she couldn’t hide combined with the guts it took to keep trying, that sealed the deal. He had to have her.

Even if it meant losing her.

Because Sam knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he went down this road with Andie blind and deaf to the truth about him. His poor, overworked conscience couldn’t carry another burden.

He’d have to tell Andie the truth about why he was on Sanctuary Island, and hope that she understood.

A shaft of despair slid between his ribs like the tip of a knife, piercing the heat of their embrace. Sam lifted his head, his chest clenching at the way Andie followed his lips with hers, chasing his kiss. It took everything he had to grip her shoulders and put cool night air between their overheated bodies.

“Andie,” he forced out, before he could second-guess it and come to his senses. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

She blinked away the haze of passion. Sam saw the exact moment she realized where they were and who she’d just kissed. Awareness flushed over her cheeks, but if she felt embarrassed or regretful, she didn’t let it show. Andie tilted her chin up and met his gaze without flinching. “Yes?”

The words wilted in Sam’s suddenly parched throat. He swallowed with a dry click, searching for the words to admit to an officer of the law that he was everything she stood against. But before he could come up with anything that seemed liable to keep him out of handcuffs, Caitlin’s voice broke them apart.

“Are you her boyfriend?”

Sam jerked and stared down at the kid. The outraged betrayal on her pale, thin face was like a head-butt to the diaphragm. “Hey, Caitlin—look, your aunt and I…”

He ran out of steam but Andie saved him, with a sideways look that said she wasn’t going to forget the conversation that had been interrupted. “We’re friends, sweetie. Friends who are interested in finding out if they can be something more. But whatever we decide about that, it won’t change anything for you.”

There it was again, that weary, knowing expression that seemed way too adult for such a young girl. “That’s dumb. Boyfriends change everything. They move in and…” Caitlin buttoned her lips tight, refusing to finish.

“Did your mom have a lot of boyfriends?” Sam asked gently.

Caitlin shrugged as Andie caught his gaze, a big question mark swimming in the blue depths of her eyes.

Sam wanted to tell her his suspicions. The way Caitlin avoided being around adult women but had trusted him immediately, the way she’d wolfed down half the granola bar he’d given her at lunch then hidden the other half in her sleeve when she thought he wasn’t looking, that slip about stealing, back in the car.

But these weren’t Sam’s secrets to tell. He put one hand on Caitlin’s head, smoothing down her wind-tossed red hair. When she didn’t shrug him off, Sam prompted her. “Caitlin? What happened when your mom would get a boyfriend?”

Caitlin shrugged again, her skinny shoulders coiled tighter than springs. “Nothing. They’d go off together and do stuff. Grown-up stuff.”

And where had Caitlin been while her mom and whatever loser she shacked up with had been off doing “grown-up stuff?” Sam’s heart ached for the lonely, forgotten kid he saw inside Caitlin.

He wondered if Andie saw it as clearly as he did. She might have the training to read between the lines of a confession—but maybe she didn’t have a lonely, forgotten kid inside herself to be able to recognize the signs.

At least she was trying. Andie was studying Caitlin’s averted face like if she stared hard enough, she’d be able to read her niece’s history written on her freckled cheek. “It’s okay,” Andie said at last. “You don’t have to talk about your mom if you don’t want to. But … whatever happened with your mom’s boyfriends, I promise you that Sam is not moving in with me anytime soon. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

Visibly struggling, Caitlin glared out over the reflection of the moon on the waves. “I don’t care. You’re not my mom. I only have to stay here until my dad comes to get me.”

A muscle flexed in Andie’s jaw, but her expression and voice were nothing but soft and caring. “I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know how long it will be until your dad can come home. So you and me, we’re going to have to figure out a way to get along until then.”

“That’s easy.” Caitlin sniffed dismissively. “Not like we have to see each other, even if we live in the same house.”

Come on, Andie,
Sam prayed silently as his heart squeezed tight.
Listen to what she’s saying.

A stillness had come over Andie, watchful and alert, but the straightforward caring in her stance and voice never changed. Sam had the fleeting thought that she’d make a good horse trainer.

“But that would make me sad,” Andie told Caitlin. “You’re my niece. You’re family, and from the minute I found out about you, I loved you. So that means I
want
to spend time with you.”

Caitlin vibrated with tension like a plucked rubber band. Sam couldn’t tell if she wanted to run into Andie’s arms, or run away.