Rosemary had stayed at Walker’s overnight. After Walker had finally reached her on the side of the road last night, they learned the car didn’t have a spare and the hole in her tire was on the sidewall, where he couldn’t patch it. By the time they started home in his SUV, it was so late she was afraid she’d wake Eileen if she went in, and she didn’t want to explain where she’d been, especially since she could just sleep at Walker’s. He had to be at work early and could drop her off before Eileen ever got out of bed.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Walker said as he rinsed out his coffee cup and put it in the dishwasher. “I’d better get going or roadside assistance will beat me to the car.”
He’d seemed quiet, distracted, while they were eating, but neither of them had gotten much sleep. “I appreciate you rescuing me last night—and taking care of the car this morning.” With luck, Eileen wouldn’t even realize the Tesla was gone. Rarely did she go out front where the cars were parked.
“No problem.”
He’d asked her who she was seeing last night and clearly hadn’t been pleased when she wouldn’t say. He had argued that she should tell him where she was going and who she was with whenever she went out with a man, especially one she’d met on the internet. It wasn’t safe to do otherwise. He’d assumed the internet part—how else would she meet a man in Miami?—but she wasn’t going to correct him. She’d insisted that what she did was her own business and she could take care of herself. The fact that she’d called him to come change the tire was evidence to the contrary, and he was quick to point that out, but she wasn’t ready for the backlash she’d receive if she told him it was his father.
You know you can’t trust him. That was what Walker would say. And it would be true, based on what they’d experienced in the past.
But she’d had such a good time with Rudy last night. He’d avoided alcohol, including the wine the waiter had offered them. He’d been funny and attentive, and he hadn’t pressed her for sex, which made her feel as though that wasn’t all he was after. She needed more time to decide what to do about him, didn’t want to ruin the excitement she was feeling by having to fend off warnings from Walker and Reese, or Eileen, no matter how well-intentioned.
Her son took a blueberry muffin for the road. “What time does Reese have to be at the club this morning?”
“He typically doesn’t work until noon on Sundays.”
She knew why he was asking. Her youngest son hadn’t come home last night. His truck hadn’t been in the drive when they pulled in this morning; she assumed he’d stayed over at a date’s place.
“I’m sure he’ll be there when he’s supposed to be,” she added.
“I hope so.”
Walker had to be thinking about last month, when Reese had pulled a no-show and nearly lost his job. He’d claimed he’d thought it was his day off.
“I’ll start nudging him around ten thirty, see if I can reach him,” she said.
Walker rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to nag him.”
“I prefer to think of it as doing him a favor.” She couldn’t let him lose his job.
Walker chuckled and kissed her cheek. “The Tesla will be back soon.”
“Thank you.”
He walked out, but she chased him down before he could get in his SUV and pull out of the drive. “Walker?”
When he turned, she glanced around before lowering her voice. “Any woman would be lucky to have you.”
“I’m not even going to ask why you felt the need to say that,” he said and got behind the wheel.
She caught the door before he could close it. “You know why I said it. Let’s not pretend.”
“I don’t want to talk about Marlow.”
He’d never been willing to discuss her. He internalized everything, pretended he didn’t feel it—not if it was painful. She’d assumed he’d gotten over Marlow, that the Madsens’ daughter would be irrelevant to him by now, but after what Rudy had said in the car last night, and how Walker attempted to ignore Marlow whenever she was around, she was beginning to wonder. “Just let me say that Marlow’s a nice person. I’ve always loved her, even though she acted pretty spoiled there for a few years. I think she was struggling with being too smart and not fitting in anywhere—and any child who’d been given everything they could ever want would probably behave like that.”
“Mom, you don’t have anything to worry about,” he insisted. “Really.”
“Let me finish,” she said. “She seems to have grown out of it, but even if you’re still attracted to her, it wouldn’t be smart to act on those feelings.” What she said probably made it sound as though she was trying to protect her job. She knew that was how he’d take it. But she was actually far more worried about protecting other things—bigger things. He didn’t know they were already sitting on a powder keg, and the smallest spark could cause it to blow.
“Are you done?” he said. “Because it’s getting late, and I have a lot to do.”
“I’m done,” she said, but her stomach knotted as she watched him drive off.
Rudy was right. Walker still cared about Marlow. And what he didn’t know could definitely hurt him.
Aida felt better toward Claire after yoga—and guilty for trying to break into her phone in the middle of the night. For the most part when she was with Claire, she remembered all the reasons she liked her. Claire was quirky and sweet and demonstrative. They always had a great time together.
Claire wouldn’t let her down. Trying to fully believe that, Aida slipped her arm through Claire’s as they walked along the street, going from boutique to boutique in the shopping area Marlow had mentioned when they first arrived on the island. Obviously surprised by that move—probably because things had been so tense between them lately—Claire gave her an affectionate smile. There was relief in her face, but Aida thought she detected a hint of concern, too.
“We’re okay, aren’t we?” Aida asked. “The two of us?”
Claire nodded. “Of course.”
Aida worried that she read even more concern in Claire’s eyes at that point, but Marlow, who was up ahead, stopped and turned around to tell them that the next shop had amazing swimsuits, and the moment passed as they walked into the store and began to meander around.
“You don’t think she’ll go back to Dutton, do you?” Aida whispered to Marlow once Claire went into the tiny dressing room to try on a suit.
“No way,” Marlow said. But no matter how hard Aida tried to accept that, the friendship she had with Claire just wasn’t the same.
Marlow had dinner with Aida and Claire in town at a tiny seaside bistro where they ate crab salads outside before returning to Seaclusion. Then she left Aida and Claire to hang out on their own for the rest of the evening and went to the big house. She and her mother were planning to go through her father’s things and begin that difficult sorting process.
“Are you really feeling up to this?” she asked Eileen. There was no huge rush. But since Tiller had belongings at all their various properties, it would be a big job. If they started right away, they could take it in bite-size pieces, so it wouldn’t be too overwhelming.
“Physically, I’m feeling stronger today than I have in a week,” her mother said. Her voice was flat as she added, “But I don’t know that I’ll ever be up to this.”
Marlow took her hand as they stood facing Tiller’s side of the large walk-in closet.
“Getting rid of his things feels like I’m betraying him in some way,” Eileen confessed.
“You’ll only be getting rid of the stuff that doesn’t have sentimental value,” Marlow said. “You can keep anything you love, but combining three households isn’t going to be easy, so try to be selective.”
“I can’t do it.” Her mother released her hand and walked out of the closet.
“Mom?” Marlow said, following.
Eileen frowned at the large dresser that took up one wall. “Or—what if we start here?”
Relieved that she hadn’t given up entirely, Marlow let her breath seep out. “Okay.”
Probably as a means of delaying the inevitable, Eileen picked up the photograph of their family she kept on the dresser. “I wish we’d taken a more recent picture.”
“There are all kinds of photos of Dad, Mom,” Marlow said as gently as possible. “Being in the public eye meant his life was well-documented.”
Clearly not placated, Eileen hugged the picture to her chest. “That’s not the same as having a recent family photo.”
“I’m sorry.” The photograph Eileen held was taken only three years ago at Christmas. As far as Marlow was concerned, that was recent. She’d finally said she was too old to be part of her parents’ annual Christmas card; now she felt guilty for not continuing the tradition. “Maybe we should make a scrapbook together to commemorate his life. That’s something you’ve always talked about doing.” And it might be easier for Eileen to let go of his clothes, shoes, tools and other practical possessions if she had the most meaningful stuff in one place, carefully preserved.
“I started that already,” she said, “but I’d love to have you help me while you’re here.”
“You bet.”
Taking a deep, bolstering breath, Marlow pulled out one of her father’s drawers—the one that contained his socks. She figured socks would be about the safest place to begin, but as soon as she tried to scoop them into a box, her mother broke down and asked her to stop.
A noise at the door caused Marlow to look up. Rosemary was standing there with a tray that held two slices of homemade apple pie. “I thought you two might like a piece of pie while you work.”
Eileen was already crying, but when she saw what Rosemary held, the tears came faster. “Apple was his favorite,” she said and threw her arms around Marlow.
“Oh, I’m...I’m sorry.” Rosemary seemed rattled. Marlow could tell she’d only been trying to show support.
“It’s fine,” Marlow said. “We’ll come out to the kitchen and have some pie later.”
“Okay.” Rosemary beat a quick retreat as Marlow attempted to console her mother.
“Maybe it’s too soon to sort through his stuff,” Marlow said. “We can do it next week or the week after.”
“Yeah. I’m not ready,” Eileen admitted.
They ended up moving to the dining room table, where they worked on the scrapbook that Eileen had started. It was a bittersweet few hours, immersed in memories of the man they’d both loved and admired.
When Eileen said she was ready for bed, Marlow helped her into the room and returned to clear the table, but Rosemary insisted she’d do it so Marlow could be with her friends.
“Thanks,” Marlow said, but she didn’t go to the guesthouse. She wandered around on the beach alone for probably another hour, even though it was starting to rain. She was soaked within minutes, but she still didn’t go inside.
She’d managed to talk herself out of going to Walker’s last night. But he was always on her mind, there in the background, no matter what else was going on, and the longer she went without seeing him, the harder it got to stay away, especially when she was feeling so vulnerable.
Unable to hold back any longer, she grabbed the bicycle from the garage and rode it over to the cove.
After going all day on almost no sleep, Walker had nodded off on the couch as soon as he finished dinner. When he heard the knock on his door, he glanced at the clock—it was nearly eleven—and his thoughts immediately turned to Marlow. Could this be her?
She hadn’t shown up last night, so he wasn’t expecting her. He actually hoped it wasn’t her, because now he’d just have to send her away. He knew that wouldn’t be easy—but it became virtually impossible once he opened the door. She was standing on the stoop wearing nothing but a pair of cutoffs, some flip-flops and a tank top, shivering and soaked to the skin.
She was also crying.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately concerned.
She opened her mouth to answer but couldn’t get any words out.
He pulled her inside and went to grab a towel, which he wrapped around her shoulders. “Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”
“No,” she managed to say.
She must’ve ridden her bike over again. She wouldn’t be so wet otherwise. But he didn’t say anything about that. “Is it Eileen?”
She shook her head, and he remembered that when he finally called his mother to tell her the Tesla was back in the garage and Reese had shown up for work on time—something she’d already known because he’d gotten busy and waited so long—she mentioned that Eileen and Marlow had been sorting through Tiller’s belongings tonight.
“Is this about your father?” he guessed, softening his voice.
She pressed her lips together as though she was struggling to hold back her emotions, but fresh tears streamed down her face as she nodded.
She’d been an only child, and Tiller had worshipped her. Walker could only imagine what it would feel like to have a father like that—and then lose him. “He was a good man,” he said. “I’m sorry he’s gone.”
Squeezing her eyes closed, she leaned into him, and when he didn’t step back, she slid her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. “I miss him,” she managed to say in a strangled voice, and he wrapped his arms around her. This woman wrecked every defense he put up, but he couldn’t send her home like this.
“You’re going to be okay,” he murmured.
She snuggled even closer, seeking comfort and warmth, and he held her until she stopped shivering. Then he stepped back to suggest she go take a shower and get warmed up while he dug through his drawers to find her some dry clothes. Before he could speak, however, she pressed her lips to his.
Now was the time to set her away from him, before everything got out of control again. But this kiss was different from before. It was the personification of an apology.
“Marlow—” he started, but she spoke at the same time.
“Make love to me.”
The jolt of testosterone that shot through him at her request nearly stole his breath. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” she murmured against his lips. “You already have.”
They’d had sex. Making love was different. He was surprised she’d even frame her request that way. “It’s not a risk we should take.” He was trying to remember what Rosemary had said to him earlier. His mother had been through enough in her life. After all she’d sacrificed for him, he should try to respect her wishes. “What about my mom?”
She seemed slightly hurt that he’d even suggest it might cause a problem for Rosemary. “I would never let this affect your mother’s job. I think you know that.”
He did. He and Marlow had had their issues, but they’d always handled those issues themselves. “Still, our families are close, and this might—”
“It won’t do anything,” she broke in. “It’s just for the summer. What could one summer hurt?”
Why was he still fighting when he wanted so badly to give in—and when it might even be smarter to do so? Maybe if he went this route, Marlow would become no different than the other women he dated. When he first started seeing someone, there was a lot of excitement. But after a while, he slowly began to realize he wasn’t all that interested anymore.
The beginning of the end.
With any luck, this relationship would follow the same course. “Okay,” he said and started stripping off her wet clothes.