Chapter 12

Connor put finishing touches on the chocolate cake he’d made for dinner, then stood back to admire the result.

Huh. Yeah, maybe “admire” wasn’t quite the right word.

Apparently cakes weren’t something you could toss off perfectly on your first try. At least he couldn’t. The layers hadn’t baked up level, and he’d noticed a slight burning smell as he took the pans out of the oven. With chocolate, who could tell if it was browning too fast? He’d split one cake flipping it right side up on the cooling rack, and had to piece it back together on the serving plate.

The chocolate frosting had been stiffer than he expected, and he’d torn a big gouge in the side of the bottom layer when he tried to spread it on. To fix that, he’d added milk—too much, which made the frosting too runny. More sugar to firm it had made it too sweet. The layers didn’t sit together properly, there were dark crumbs marring the icing, and the top had slumped sideways and looked in danger of sliding off entirely, but when he tried gingerly to push it back, it smushed instead of moving.

He’d decided to label it a Thought-That-Counts Cake.

There was no doubt his thoughts had been on Grace. He’d been thinking of her since she stepped off the ferry two weeks earlier, when his whole body had been jolted by the shock of recognition. Since then her effect on him had only grown. Around her he felt like a different, better person. More patient, more giving, the kind of man he’d worried he was too damaged to be for any woman. Now he wondered if he’d just been hanging with the wrong ones. Nice women, smart women, fun women, but he’d never felt completely safe enough with any of them to drop the blustery macho act he realized now had been his self-protection.

Most importantly, he’d realized that his great sound bite of a philosophy—stay happy today because no one could count on tomorrow—had been one big, attractive justification for his terror of vulnerability and of commitment. Grace had been changing that about him too. Meeting her again had given him courage to take his concept of starting a farm here from a nice idea in his head for someone someday, to a solid plan he couldn’t wait to turn into reality. Not only that, he was giving up his two-room rental, which had felt safely temporary for so long, and was going to start looking to buy a house here on Polaris. In short, he was ready to grow up and live his life like a normal person, rooted in a community, even looking ahead to marriage and starting a family.

Connor blew out a quick breath. Yeah, those last two still scared him, given what a nightmare “family” had been to him, but much less than they used to.

He’d seen Grace change, too, over the last two weeks. She’d relaxed, become more open, less bristly. Some of that was easily attributed to the charm of the island, but he’d like to think he was responsible for some of her evolution as well.

After that blissful night spent in each other’s arms on the mountain, they’d hung out together for as much time as he could spare from his job. They’d been on a whale-watch, though most of the trip for him had been a Grace-watch because her excitement had so charmed him. Luke had taken them fishing, they’d hiked to see the old gold mine, camped out there one beautiful night in a tent, had gone on a kayak trip—and stayed dry! They’d taken a wood-carving class from Ches and a yoga class from Azure, which had led Connor to discover that he was not only the least flexible person in the class, he was probably the least flexible person in all of Alaska.

In the evenings, somewhat deviously, Connor had contrived for them to eat often at the lodge. He loved watching Grace interpret flavors with each bite and her look of concentration as she calculated how she could improve a dish either through technique or seasoning. Of course his ultimate goal was to help her realize what an important and positive effect she could have on the restaurant.

After those dinners, sometimes they’d hang out at the lodge watching movies or playing games, but they always came back to his or her little cottage to lie together, talking about everything that mattered and plenty that didn’t. Those were the best times, the ones he cherished most.

While he was leading hikes, Grace had been spending time with her father, reluctantly, and then with growing acceptance, and lately even some enthusiasm. Derek looked happier and healthier every time Connor saw him. Azure was convinced Grace had powerful magic. Maybe she was right.

Tonight, here at his place, Grace and Connor were supposedly celebrating her last night on the island before she went back to New York State.

Supposedly.

If Connor had anything to say about it, she was not leaving. He’d done his best over the past week and a half not to pressure her, had even avoided dropping to his knees at regular intervals and begging her to stay.

But tonight it was all or nothing—and Connor was choosing all.

He checked the dining area one more time—there wasn’t enough space to call it a room. Candles were ready for lighting on the table for two, and a vase of wild iris he’d picked from the meadow above the lodge provided a splash of color. Another glance around confirmed the room was clean and tidy.

On the stove, a pot of his mother’s smoked salmon chowder was heating, rich with fish, corn and potatoes. He’d also put together a simple salad and bought a loaf of Nellie’s excellent rye bread to accompany the soup, a soup he’d made over a dozen times so he was pretty sure he wouldn’t screw it up. Cooking for a chef was pretty intimidating, even one he was sure would forgive him any culinary stumbles. The cake, granted, was less like a stumble and more like falling off a cliff.

So. Everything was ready. Now all he needed was for Grace to show up, to serve her a nice meal and get up the nerve to admit he was in love with her, maybe had been for years, and that he wanted her to stay in Polaris and see what they could be to each other.

Yeah. No big deal.

Even though he’d been expecting it, her knock made him start.

Not surprising. He was seriously on edge. For years after the disasters and deaths in his family, he’d been telling himself that the world was going to do what it was going to do, that his life was written in the stars, and not under his control. Now suddenly something really mattered again. He was trying to change the future for both of them.

He flung open the door, already smiling, then caught his breath. She was wearing a dress, a bright, colorful print that bared her neck and shoulders, then clung in all his favorite places. “Wow.”

“Like it?” She smiled and turned in a circle to reveal a vee plunging down her back.

He grunted out his best cave-man-stricken-with-lust imitation, making her laugh.

“Thank you. That’s quite a compliment. I hope.”

“Definitely. Come in.” He pulled her toward him and kissed her, his greedy hands discovering the dress’s material was soft and enticing. That she smelled and felt really good underneath it, he already knew. “Mmm, you are extra stunning in that dress.”

“Azure said it would bring me to my true self.” She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever that meant.”

“Who knows with Azure, though a lot of the time she ends up making sense, which is almost weirder than the stuff she says.”

“I bet.” She sniffed the air. “Something smells delicious. Smoked salmon? Some thyme? What else?”

“Smoked salmon chowder. Mom’s recipe.” He reluctantly removed his hands from her waist. “Would you like a glass of wine? Water? Beer?”

“Wine would be great, thank you.” She moved past him toward the worn couch he was planning to get re-upholstered…someday—maybe now he’d actually do it soon.

As he opened the wine he peeked at Grace, standing in his tiny living room, waiting for him to join her. She lit up his place every time she came in, but with the colorful dress and simple sandals, tonight she positively glowed. Or maybe he was just noticing everything more keenly tonight.

This woman could shred his heart. He’d tried to tell himself that if the worst happened and she left, there could still be another time meant for them. His life had already contained so much loss, it was too cruel to think there could be more in store for him.

They chatted while they drank wine and during dinner, pleasantly, though not as easily as usual. By unspoken agreement they were avoiding emotional or personal topics, or any mention of The End. Maybe they were cowards, maybe they just wanted another really good time together before the inevitable upheaval.

After he had cleared the soup and salad plates, he brought out a bowl of local salmonberries, and then…his masterpiece.

Grace gasped; her eyes shone. “You made me a chocolate cake! Oh, my gosh. Look at that! Connor!”

“Isn’t it a beauty?” He put down the cake, which had slumped even farther. The top layer was nearly touching the plate. “I don’t know. Maybe we should go get a couple of Nellie’s cupcakes instead.”

“No way.” She laughed in delight and picked up her fork, ready to dive in. “I am having my cake and eating it too.”

“I hope you won’t regret it.” He poured them both more wine, then coughed clumsily into his hand. “Before I serve this monumental dessert, I’d like to say something. Actually, three things.”

Grace must have picked up his mood, because her smile dimmed. She put down her fork. “Okay. Number one…”

“Number one, I wanted to tell you that I’m planning to buy a house on the island.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “A house! That’s a big commitment. What brought that on?”

Connor wasn’t going to tell her that truth yet. She’d figure it out by the time he got to number three. “I’m coming around to the fact that I fit here really well. Which leads into the second thing I wanted to tell you, which is that I’m starting an organic farm. I found some land up in the meadow that gets good sun and has decent soil, which I can rent from Derek. I’ll start small, and expand assuming it works out. The idea is that I can supply—”

“The restaurant!” She leaned forward eagerly. “Farm to table, right here. That is brilliant. It’ll save costs in the long run, and improve the quality of produce at the lodge. Bam, everyone is happy.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Wow.” She leaned back abruptly, looking slightly wistful, exactly as he’d hoped she would. “That’s every chef’s dream.”

“Mine, too.” At least part of his dream. The rest involved her.

“It’s a great idea.” She nodded firmly, her serious expression easing. “I hope it’s wildly successful, Connor.”

“Thanks, I do too.” He still had the one more thing to share. The big one. He wasn’t ready, but he had a feeling given how vulnerable the admission required him to be, he wouldn’t ever be.

“Cake?”

“What about number three?”

He gestured down at his Dr. Hyde creation. “Cake first.”

“I’d love some.” She stood to kiss him on the cheek, then sat back down, gazing at him fondly. “Thank you for making this, Connor. I’m really touched you went to the trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He started slicing, dismayed when the texture more closely resembled dense bread than cake. Somehow he got a slice to lie almost neatly on her plate. “Not perfect. But Grace… I want you to know. I added a secret ingredient.”

Grace looked up sharply. Her lips parted; her cheeks rapidly turned pink. She was so lovely his chest squeezed. He wasn’t sure he could keep talking.

Panic rose.

No.

This was right. This was what he wanted.

He faced down the panic and took her hand.

“I love you. I’ve probably been in love with you since that night in Colorado when you came to my room, looking so beautiful and so determined and so vulnerable. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I’m there now. You have brought so much to my life, Grace. Back then you took me off the path to self-destruction. Now you’ve helped me visualize and accept the life I deeply wanted, but couldn’t have until I got out of my own way.” He’d made it that far, and was still standing. Another breath… “I want that life to be with you. Here on Polaris.”

Grace put a hand to her chest. “Please don’t do this.”

He was almost shaking, but nothing was going to stop him now. “I’ve watched you change since you’ve been here. This place is good for you. I think I’m good for you, the same way you are for me. Your dad is here. Everyone you’ve met in Aurora loves you. We can be your new family.”

“Oh, Connor.” Her beautiful eyes clouded with misery. “What I really want isn’t family, and it isn’t here. I still need to find it. I have feelings for you, too, strong ones. But feelings change. If we don’t work out I’ll resent having given up my dream, and you’ll wish you’d let me go so you could find someone who really fit here.”

The pain in his chest wasn’t from nerves that time. He opened his mouth to try again, then closed it. What could he say right now to change her mind? She’d only had two weeks to fall in love with Polaris and with him, and she clearly hadn’t. Not deeply enough. She didn’t love him, or at very least she didn’t trust the emotion. She’d be taking all the risk by moving here. Connor was asking for something too big.

He could keep arguing with her, but she was convinced she was right, and he couldn’t bear to spoil their last evening.

“I understand.”

“Believe me, I have thought about it. A lot. This has been the most wonderful trip, meeting my father, meeting you again. Some of the happiest times of my life. But I can’t change everything I’ve been working toward for so many years on the basis of two wonderful weeks of vacation.” Her eyes filled with tears. “This isn’t reality, not mine anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He had no idea how he got the strength to sound halfway normal. “Who knows what will happen? Maybe in another few years we’ll meet again and make it work.”

“That would be nice.” She gazed down at the horrible looking mess of a dessert on her plate. “You might not understand, Connor, but this cake is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever made for me. I will never forget it.”

Connor tried to smile, but only halfway succeeded. It was starting to hit him how much he’d allowed himself to believe his romantic fairy tale of their love. Written in the stars, blah-blah-blah. He was an old friend she’d had a vacation fling with. Tomorrow she’d be back on the ferry, back to the grind of trying to carve out her own niche in a brutal business. He hoped she’d succeed. Someday he hoped he’d be able to get over her. In the meantime he’d work hard to make the organic farm a reality. To root himself in this community.

And maybe someday he’d find a way to feel alive and important and peaceful again without her.