Bastian stopped in the hallway as he passed Remy’s room, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. He could smell Ismay in the air—her perfume or shampoo or whatever. God, she smelled good. How she couldn’t see through Remy, he had no idea. But then, Remy could certainly put on a front. He was a chameleon, could blend in wherever or whenever he wanted to.
Eager to get something to eat, he started toward the stairs again, but the temptation of that scent drew him into Remy’s room first. For a moment, he just stood in the doorway, surprised to see that she’d made her bed. He didn’t know many people who bothered with that these days; he certainly didn’t. But her tidiness somehow fit her and made her even more appealing to him. He could see why Remy had decided to marry her. What man wouldn’t be happy with such a fresh-faced, sensitive, kind, and intelligent woman?
And that was before he got to her beauty...
Glancing down the stairs to make sure the coast was still clear and she wasn’t about to return for something she’d forgotten, he walked farther inside and lifted the suitcase she’d placed in the closet. Empty, of course. Any woman who was going to make her bed each day wouldn’t live out of a suitcase.
He fingered the blouses she’d hung up—the light silk of an off-white button-up, the coarse linen of a black oversized shirt, and the soft red cotton of a tank top—then counted the chinos, jeans, and shorts on the lower rack before checking the labels. She didn’t spend a lot on clothes. Remy probably didn’t like that. He’d expect his woman to match him. But that was the thing—Ismay made even cheap clothes look expensive. She had the tall, lean body of a model.
He crossed to the drawers and sorted through her panties. Most were thongs. He’d wondered what she’d choose. He lifted a pair to his nose, just in case any trace of her lingered, but he was disappointed. All he could smell was laundry soap.
He started to put them away. But at the last second, he shoved one in his pocket, smiled at himself in the mirror, and whistled as he walked out.
Jack was packing when he got a call from Donny. He’d been tempted to reach out to Jessica’s soon-to-be ex, if only to compare notes and commiserate. Nothing drew people together like suffering. But he hadn’t been sure he could withstand the other man’s grief. He was having enough trouble dealing with his own.
He almost let the call transfer to voice mail. But just in case Donny had something important to say, something he needed to hear before he left, he picked up at the last second.
“’Lo?”
“Jack?”
They knew each other. They’d watched their wives play in pickleball tournaments, played board games together on an occasional game night, gone out to the movies when the Schultzs could get a babysitter. He and Donny even texted each other occasionally about sports or borrowing a tool here and there—stuff like that.
“It’s Donny.”
“I know.”
“How are you doing?”
Jack’s head prickled, making him want to scratch it harder and harder. “I could be better.”
Donny’s voice dropped. “Can you believe what those bitches did to us?”
Jack winced. As angry and hurt as he was, he had trouble calling Ashleigh names. They’d been together for so long—since they were kids, really. But the way Donny was slurring his words suggested he’d been drinking, so he probably wasn’t thinking clearly. “It’s not an easy situation,” he hedged.
“It’s not an easy situation?” he repeated with a bitter laugh. “I hope they get some kind of venereal disease.”
Jack pressed a thumb and finger against his closed eyelids. “Donny, I don’t want to hear this.”
“What, you’re just going to let her ruin your life?”
“What can I do? Drinking certainly won’t help.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, buddy,” he said. “It’s sure as hell making me feel better.”
“Really? Because you sound pretty angry to me.”
“And you’re not?” he snapped.
He was. He’d never felt such rage. He’d loved Ashleigh so much. He didn’t feel he deserved what’d happened to him, so the injustice cut almost as deeply as the rejection. “I am, of course. But it’s her life and her choice. It’s not as if she’s leaving because of something I can change.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“What?”
“Maybe you can just throw up your hands and say, oh, well, but I can’t. I’ve lost my kids, man. Half my net worth. And in the most public and humiliating way imaginable. Ashleigh and Jessica are stupid if they think I’m going to take all that lying down.”
“You need to be careful with that kind of thinking,” Jack said, but Donny didn’t respond. He just called him a fucking loser and hung up. Jack threw his phone on the bed as if it were a poisonous snake.
He’d texted Ashleigh to tell her he was leaving town and that he’d given their landlord notice. His brother Hank said he’d pack up his stuff and move it all to the farm before the end of the month—what was left of it, anyway. And his mother had said she’d clean the place to make sure he received his deposit, which made him eternally grateful to both of them. He’d also told Ashleigh that since she had the car, it was now her responsibility to make the payments. But she hadn’t responded to either text.
If she didn’t pay, he figured he’d have to, and he might have to pay their credit card bills, too, until they could divvy up their obligations in the divorce proceedings. He couldn’t allow her to ruin his credit. That was the only thing he had left. But right now, there were certainly bigger things to worry about than money—like his sanity.
Don’t think about Ashleigh. Don’t think about Donny. Don’t think about any of it. Just keep packing.
If he didn’t, he’d miss his plane to Boston, and if he had to catch a later one, he’d miss his connection to the island.
Ismay couldn’t help feeling a little anxious as she stood at the neighbor’s door with Bo at her side. She figured she could possibly find her brother a room to rent, but the people who lived on Mariners weren’t really the type to need the income, so she wasn’t very hopeful she’d come across that kind of situation. This opportunity was an anomaly. So it felt like there was a lot riding on this visit.
The elderly woman who opened the door was tall and thin, if a little stooped, and she had her nails manicured into a point with bright red polish. She was wearing a colorful housedress with an even more colorful apron over it, and orthopedic shoes, and she had her silver hair swept up and pinned back. The smile lines around her mouth and eyes creased as soon as she spotted Bo. “Bo, what are you doing back here already? You don’t need to worry about me—I’m doing fine,” she said as soon as she’d opened the door. Then, while he caught and held it for her, she bent to pick up a yellow tabby cat. “And so is Clementine.”
“I haven’t been as worried since the power came back on,” Bo said.
“It’s definitely nice to have some heat.” She smiled at Ismay. “And who do we have here?”
Bo gestured in Ismay’s direction. “Honey, this is Ismay Chalmers, Remy’s fiancée. Ismay, this is Honey Wellington, who makes the best dill pickles, canned beets, and jellies this side of the country.”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Ismay said.
Honey’s eyes were kind but shrewd at the same time. “Aren’t you beautiful?”
Ismay felt her face heat. “Thank you.”
“How do you like Mariners?” Honey asked.
“It’s a lovely day today, but...it wasn’t so accommodating right after I got here,” she said jokingly.
“This island is certainly unpredictable,” Honey said. “But I’ve always loved wild things. Bo told me your brother might be joining you.”
“Yes. He’s going through a terrible divorce and needs to get away, so I suggested he come visit. He’s a farm boy from northern Utah—he’s never experienced anything like this.”
“How old is he?”
Ismay stroked the cat Honey was holding, which started to purr. “Only twenty-five.”
“And he’s already going through a divorce?” she asked in surprise.
“I’m afraid so. The poor guy is heartbroken, never saw it coming. He and his wife have been together since the ninth grade.”
“Did she find someone else, or...”
“She did,” Ismay said.
“I see.” She nuzzled her cat. “When does your brother arrive?”
“He’s coming in tonight, actually.”
Her eyes widened. “So soon?”
“I figured if he was going to get away, he might as well do it immediately. Then he won’t have to face the gossip.”
“Does he need a place to stay?” she asked.
“He can stay with me,” Bo said, causing Ismay to glance at him.
“No,” she said. “I’m not asking for anything like that. I’ve reserved a room at the Hotel Mariners for now. But Bo mentioned you might like him to house-sit at some point—there’s certainly no pressure.”
“I just thought I’d bring Ismay by so you could meet her and see if you might also like to meet Jack,” Bo volunteered.
“Yes, I would. I spoke to Frankie today—that’s my daughter,” she explained for Ismay’s benefit, “and she said I should definitely come for a few weeks, at least.”
Bo lifted his hands. “Well, we’re not trying to hurry you on your way. Merely wanted you to know that Jack would be an option, if you’re interested.”
“That’s good to know.” She turned to Ismay. “Why don’t you bring him by tomorrow so we can talk?”
“I’ll do that,” Ismay said. “Is there any particular time you’d like to see us?”
“Why don’t all three of you come for lunch?” she asked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Ismay replied.
Honey scowled at this response. “You won’t be putting me out. It’ll be my pleasure.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Ismay turned to Bo. “Can you make it for lunch?”
“I don’t know. I’ve a lot to get done, so I—” he started to say, but Honey broke in almost immediately.
“We all have to eat, Bo,” she said. “And you know I can cook.”
“I do know that,” he agreed. “I guess I’ll be able to take an hour or so.”
She put her cat down and nudged it to go back into the house. “You’re always doing things for me. It’s nice that I can do a little something for you.”
“I appreciate it,” he said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m already looking forward to it.” She winked at Bo. “And you were right, you know. She is special.”
Bo looked as if she’d just punched him in the face, which made Honey chuckle as she went back inside and closed the door.
“You told her I’m special?” Ismay teased as they walked back.
“I was exaggerating,” he muttered, and she started to laugh.
It was difficult to finish patching the roof knowing Ismay was inside the house. Bo had told her she should go to town or head to the beach—enjoy herself while she was on vacation—but she’d insisted on staying to help clean up, even though she’d already done so much. He was grateful to her, but he was also concerned that Bastian might come looking for her again. Where was Remy’s twin today?
Once he finished and could go inside, he was intent on telling her he’d take it from there. But it’d been four hours, and he couldn’t see much more to do. She’d used the wet/dry vac he’d provided to suck up what remained of the water and mopped all the floors. It looked as if she’d also scrubbed down the baseboards.
When he found her, she was making food in the kitchen.
“The floors look great,” he said.
She peered around the corner at the hardwood in the living room. “I did my best. The rest will be up to the restoration company.”
“They’ve been slammed but promised me they’d at least drop off some bigger fans.” He checked the time. “They claimed it’d be today, but it’s nearly five, so...maybe it’s not going to happen.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
He grinned. “What do you think?”
She indicated the table. “Sit down. I’ve almost finished a salad made of quinoa, spinach, and avocado with a fried egg on top. It’s delicious, especially if you add some sriracha.”
“Sounds good.”
She piled two plates high and brought them over before getting silverware and napkins.
He got up and selected a bottle of wine from a small rack he’d built himself. “This okay?”
“Looks good to me.”
He poured them each a glass and sat down with her. Eating together was becoming a habit. On the one hand, it made him uncomfortable. He knew Remy wouldn’t like it. On the other...it was difficult to stay away from Ismay. They’d fallen into this situation that made it all too easy to hang out together.
“What do you think Honey will decide?” she asked while they ate.
“I think she’ll go to Pennsylvania. The question is when. But Jack can stay here until then. I’ve got an extra room. I just need to move my weights out of it.”
“I don’t expect you to take him in,” she said. “I feel bad that I’ve leaned on you as much as I have.”
“You’ve helped me, too,” he pointed out.
“That’s what friends are for,” she said, echoing what he’d told her earlier.
“Exactly.” He just had to be careful. He couldn’t get close to Jack, either. Letting her brother stay was risky. But the dude was probably so caught up in his own misery that he wouldn’t pay much attention to Bo. And if he started getting too inquisitive... Bo would just have to figure out something else. Hopefully, Honey would be gone by then and Jack could move to her place. He couldn’t make the poor guy pay nearly four hundred dollars a night when he had an empty room.
“What do you think Remy will say when he learns Jack is staying here?” Ismay asked.
“The Windsors may own this place, but it’s up to me what I do with it—within reason, of course. Taking on a roommate should be within my prerogative.”
“But my brother of all people?”
He swallowed his food. “Maybe it’ll shame Remy into doing the right thing and inviting Jack to stay at the cottage.”
“That would be nice, except even if he did, he’d just resent it, and I’d certainly be aware of the big favor he was doing for me.”
Bo stopped eating and leaned back. “Why are you even with Remy?”
“He has his good traits,” she said, immediately defensive.
“And they are...”
She pushed her food around her plate with her fork. “He’s clever, driven, smart, talented, handsome, funny—”
“Rich?” he added, watching her closely.
She scowled at him. “That has nothing to do with it. Honestly.”
He studied her for several seconds. Then he said, “But can you live with all the things he’s not?”
She’d just opened her mouth to answer when a knock sounded at the door.
Bo got up and peered through the window. He was expecting the restoration company, but he couldn’t see their truck in the drive.
“Who is it?” Ismay asked, holding her wineglass loosely.
When Bo reached the door, he caught sight of a slim dark-haired man through the peephole and cursed softly. “It’s Bastian.”