Island Home (3 page)

“I guess you know as well as I do what they say about people who assume things.”

“What am I supposed to think?”

He moved in closer, so his arms caged her in on either side, and his chest barely brushed against the front of her. She gasped at the touch and pressed back against the counter, but there was nowhere to go for escape.

His head lowered so his lips barely glanced against her jaw, and his words whispered like silk into her ear. “Is this what you’re here for? To scratch an itch before you move on again? To see if it’s as good as you remember? As good as you dream about?”

Her hands came up and flattened against his chest, and she would’ve pushed him away if she’d had the strength. She heard the underlying anger in every word he spoke, but she was caught in his trap. It felt so good to be in his arms, even indirectly.

“Luke, I—”

His lips touched the underside of her ear and heat speared straight to her core. Whatever she’d planned to say was lost at his touch. Her fingers clenched against his chest and a whimper escaped her lips as his tongue traced a path down her neck.

“Is that why you’re here, Jess?”

Answering became an impossibility as his lips came down on hers. No one had ever fit her as perfectly as he did, and time and distance hadn’t changed that. She expected to feel his anger in the kiss, but it was soft—gentle—as his lips caressed and tasted hers. A quickening of breaths and small sighs as memories flooded her system.

Her hands slid up his chest and around the back of his neck, and a whimper of pleasure escaped when he pressed against her—her breasts aching as his flesh seemed to scorch through the thin fabric of her dress.

Tears pricked her eyes as she opened herself to him, accepted whatever he had to give her. She melted against him and the long, slow burn of arousal took hold as his tongue slipped inside her mouth and slid sinuously against hers.

When he finally pulled away, both of their breathing was labored. He dropped his hands and took a step back as if she was poisonous, and his face twisted in a painful grimace before the anger came back.

“Go home, Jess. Scratch your itch somewhere else.”

Her head was spinning and she still wasn’t sure what had just happened, only that she wanted it again. But his words hit her like a bucket of cold water.

“I’m home,” she finally managed to say. “You’re going to have to deal with it. And you know nothing about my wants or desires.”

“All I know is fact.” Luke ran his fingers through his hair. “I know that nothing on this island mattered to you enough that you wanted to stay. And I know you’re back now for whatever reason, wanting to take the only thing I’ll ever love again. So excuse me if I don’t feel like throwing you a welcome home party.”

Jessie felt the hot spark of anger sizzle deep in her belly. “There’s love and then there’s
love
. I guess I’m glad you finally found something that mattered enough to fight for.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Luke’s arms crossed over his chest and his scowl was harsh enough to etch glass.

“It means mind your own damn business.”

She pushed away from the counter and slipped back under the pass-through, heading toward the lone suitcase she’d brought with her. Her other belongings had been delayed on the mainland because of the storm.

Maybe she was wasting her time hoping for forgiveness or that he might understand the hell she’d gone through when she’d finally made the decision to leave once and for all. She could have just told him the truth and what had happened, but a part of her was still ashamed that she’d experienced it at all. No one had known, not her teachers going through school or her friends. Not Luke when he’d become her lover. They hadn’t noticed and she’d been too afraid of her father to tell. Maybe some part of her still held that fear, even though old Jesse was buried six-feet under in the cemetery.

The tears that threatened to fall were blinked away by the time she turned back to face him. Luke wasn’t the same as he’d been when she’d know him before, and gone was any trace of the gentleness or caring that had once been as natural as breathing.

“I’ve got some things to work out this morning.” Like figuring out where the hell she was going to sleep. She’d be damned if she stepped foot back inside the house that brought her nothing but bad memories. “I’ll be back before the dinner shift and you can go over anything I need to know.”

“I’ll be here.” His smile was harsh. “Just like I always am. The question is, will you have the courage to show up and face everyone again?”

*     *     *

Luke made himself
look down at the list in front of him so he wouldn’t have to watch her walk away. He was too afraid he’d beg her to come back.

He never should have kissed her. He could still taste her on his lips, feel her pressed against him. It was a taste that he’d never be able to shake from his system. Not even if he bedded a hundred women—a thousand.

A rumble of thunder boomed loud enough to shake the floor and he cursed as he remembered he hadn’t seen another golf cart when he’d pulled up. Which meant she’d made the walk from the ferry to the bar, and was now forced to trudge the half-mile hike to old Jesse’s place in the pouring rain. Not even he was a big enough asshole to let her walk through the rain and wind carrying a suitcase.

“Dammit.”

He rubbed his hand through his hair again and hopped over the bar. She wouldn’t be very far down the road, so he’d be able to catch her in his own golf cart. Only when he left through the kitchen door and stared at the empty spot he’d parked in, he realized that wouldn’t be possible after all.

“Son of a bitch.” She’d stolen his golf cart. His eyes narrowed and his mouth tugged in a reluctant smile.

“Game on, Jess. We’ll just see who’s left standing.”

Now he only had to figure out a way to go after her and take what was his. It was a good thing he was already wet.

‡

J
essie’s laughter—as
she imagined the look on Luke’s face once he realized she’d taken his golf cart—was short lived. The closer she got to the cabin on the northeast end of the island, the more the fear she’d never hoped to feel again clawed at the pit of her belly.

She didn’t know why she’d come this direction. She should’ve driven straight to the inn to see if they had any rooms available, but something had pulled her to take the opposite path and drive the cart down the rutted road that led to her childhood home.

The rain was unforgiving, and she might as well have walked for all the protection it offered against the wet. Her dress was plastered against her skin and droplets of water trickled from her hair down to the base of her neck. And though the temperature was already hot and muggy, she shivered at the sight of the two-bedroom clapboard house as it came into view.

Paint peeled in long strips along the boards and one of the blue shutters hung crookedly from the front window. The porch sagged and the mesh screen had a jagged tear. It was a small square of a house and it sat on stilts to protect from flooding.

She stopped the golf cart under a tree so her suitcase would have some protection against the weather and she slipped off her sandals. They’d do nothing but sink into the sand. Plants had overrun the yard so some of them came waist high, and the tree that grew closest to the house looked like it might fall on the roof at any time.

The rain soaked her to the skin the moment she left the shelter of the golf cart and she made her way to the middle of the road so she faced the house like a gunslinger.

Jessie tried to tell herself it was a house like any other. That it was wood and glass and it had given her a place to sleep and a desk where she could do her homework. But it would’ve been a lie. A home was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to give shelter and comfort. And the people inside the house were supposed to love.

She didn’t remember that kind of love after the age of five when her mother died. The house that stood before her was nothing but a mockery, and she’d see it burned to the ground before she would ever step through the door again.

The rage inside her built in speed and intensity until she thought she’d explode if she didn’t find an outlet. The animalistic sounds that tore from her throat went unnoticed and the scalding tears went unchecked. She searched the ground for something—anything—that would do the kind of damage she envisioned.

Triumph roared through her as she found broken pieces of brick where old Jesse had tried to lay a sidewalk. Her arm reveled in the weight as she hurled it toward the front window, and with every brick she threw, every shattering sound of the windows, the rage ebbed to a quieter storm.

*     *     *

It was barely
a fifteen-minute walk to old Jesse’s place, a little quicker if one knew a shortcut. And even faster still if a scream loud enough to pierce through the raging storm could be heard.

Luke reached the edge of the clearing just in time to see her launch the first brick. His mouth dropped open in shock and he stood frozen as he watched the destruction. The pain on her face and the screams that sounded as if they were ripping from her soul made his heart ache for her.

“Jesus,” he whispered. And when her foot caught on something and she went to her knees he started to run.

She was huddled on her knees, her arms over her stomach and her face buried against them as sobs wracked her body. He didn’t know where to touch her, how to hold her. He was out of practice on knowing how to take care of anyone but himself.

Luke finally knelt down in the rising water and picked her up to pull her onto his lap. He wasn’t expecting the wild cat that greeted him. Fists and elbows came at him followed by cries so wounded he couldn’t even imagine that sort of pain.

“Ssh, baby. I’ve got you.” He held her tight and waited her out until he felt her strength begin to wane. “God, Jess. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it.”

She didn’t answer him but finally lay limp against his chest, her tears mixing with the rain. He felt her heart pounding and noticed the scrapes on her hands that were bleeding sluggishly.

“Let me go.” He could barely hear the words her voice was so hoarse.

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

She pushed against his chest but she was as weak as a kitten so she didn’t budge from his grasp.

“Let me help you, Jess. I’m not an idiot. I’ve obviously missed something that happened. Missed the real reason you left. Talk to me.”

Her head tilted back and she looked at him out of the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. “I’m fine. I just needed to get rid of some stress.”

Disappointment speared through him that she didn’t want to confide in him, and he couldn’t exactly say he blamed her. But she needed someone to be there when she was ready, and he decided he was going to be that person. They’d both made mistakes in how they’d handled life apart, and it was obvious from the moment she walked back into his life that he couldn’t let her go again. She was his heart, and she’d been missing for much too long.

“You can’t stay here,” he said.

She hiccupped out a small laugh. “No kidding. I’m going to get a room at the inn until I find a place of my own.”

“You’ll be lucky to find an empty closet. It’s high season and every cabin and hotel room is booked solid. Seeker’s Island is a lot more popular than it used to be. They featured the springs on one of those Travel Channel shows and we’ve been overrun with people ever since.”

“Good for business,” she said, pushing out of his arms.

Luke helped her to her feet and they stood facing each other while she pretended nothing had just happened.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Good for business. Lousy for privacy. You can stay with me until you find your own place.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, making her way back to the golf cart.

“The other option is for you to ferry over from the mainland every day. Seems like a waste of time to me. Especially now that you have a business to help run.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and he knew he’d won. At least this round. “Do you have an extra bedroom?”

“One or two. We’ll barely see each other. I pretty much work all the time.”

“I’m here to stay, Luke.” The seriousness in her voice made him look closer, to see if he could read her moods and feelings like he used to. But it was no use. This Jessie James was a stranger in some ways, while in others she was as familiar as his own hands.

“I believe you, Jess.”

‡