Page 24 of Fire Island (Fire Island #2)

Twenty-Three

EVIE

I ris hands me a blue top she spent ten painstaking minutes to hunt down. “I knew it was here. I saw it last time and thought it looked like you.”

I take it from her outstretched hand as she turns back to the secondhand shop rack, searching for who knows what. The small shop has so much stuff, I have no idea how they find anything. Not one thing here is the same as the other, and it’s almost like a treasure hunt.

I love it.

I trawl through the jeans and shorts, trying to find something else to add to my collection. I love wearing shorts in summer, tank tops and pretty blouses I find online. Now, nothing will beat this new thrill I have discovered of rummaging through racks to find a gem.

I’ve never really been a shoes-and-bag girl. More money for books that way. Even without the big bookstores and one-day shipping from the big one-click merchants, I have managed to start a small collection of fantasy and romance books in the shack.

My mail has been redirected to Iris’s café for the foreseeable future. Something I felt bad asking to do, but she was overjoyed I’m staying. And so am I. I’ve written a good chunk of my new project and spent more time outside touching grass and getting sunlight than I have in the last six years.

I feel . . . Alive.

Before Fire Island, life was a mirage of various tones of grey.

Now, I see in Technicolor.

Urgh, that is so corny, Evie.

I chuckle at myself, flipping items along the rack.

“Something funny?” Iris stops beside me, one sweet brow raised.

“Just my corny mind.”

“I doubt it. I think your beautiful mind is what makes you a great writer.”

I scoff at that. No, it doesn’t. It makes me eccentric at best, antisocial at worst.

“And your big heart,” she adds, handing me another top. “This one, it’ll bring out your eyes.”

Such deep conversation for a shopping trip. I realize every piece Iris piles into my arms is for me, apparently. She doesn’t have anything for herself besides an emerald scarf she found on the way in.

“You’re not getting something?” I ask.

“Oh, I raided this place last month for myself. I thought I would take you to all the best spots, you know. Make a girls’ day of it. Show you what this little town has to offer. This is the last stop, I’m afraid.”

We’ve covered the little bookstore, the pharmacy that doubles as a gift shop and has amazing stuff, and had morning tea at a teahouse at the other end of town. Is Iris trying to convince me to stay?

Like I have any choice at this point. In fact, I doubt I’ll renew my apartment lease in the city when it comes due in a few months. At least, I hope I won’t have to.

I know we’ve talked about it, but I guess that’s another conversation I should have with Cal. Because giving up my apartment would mean I have no other place to go, if...

Apart from going home to my parents, I guess.

Good lord, no way.

“I think we’ve covered every rack,” Iris says as she walks toward me. Her arms carry a few more clothing items.

“Find something good?”

“Of course! I can’t wait to get home and see you try all these on.”

She beams that stunning smile of hers at me, and I can’t help but be consumed by her infectious happiness. It’s like Iris inherited all the happy genes and Cal got all the grump. It makes me wonder what their parents were like.

We make for the checkout counter, and the girl rings up my huge spend of twenty-three dollars for five items. Some, after a quick sort, I decided to leave behind.

Iris simply winks at me and heads toward the door.

The girl hands me my bag of treasures, and I follow after Iris.

Outside, she waits a little way down the sidewalk.

I push through the glass door, checking my phone is still in my back pocket.

My glasses slide down my nose. I really should wear contacts instead.

A rough shoulder bumps into mine.

Snapping my head up, I mumble an apology as a tall, dark blur hovers too close. Something flutters to the ground.

“Forget it,” he utters. Dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt, black motorcycle boots with a ratty old cap pulled down over...

I shake my head.

Messy brown hair.

No, it can’t be.

I press a hand over my heart, trying to stifle the fear that’s clawing its way up from the pit of despair that materialized with the black masculine form.

Images of Timothy flood my mind, turning my stomach on its head.

I slide my glasses up my nose and focus on the guy whose gaze has dropped but travels back up with a frown. His eyes level with my own, and I don’t recognize him.

At least, I don’t think I do. I frown, studying the planes of his face.

“You okay?” Iris says, coming to my side as her glare swings upward. “Watch it, buddy.”

Her stance softens as she hooks her arm through mine, and she pins him with a curious look. “You passing through?”

“Maybe.” He walks away, not bothering to look back.

Rude.

Grumpy ass.

He’d be around twentysomething. Now I sound like Cal. I drop my focus to the small slip of paper on the sidewalk. Something is handwritten on it, but it’s folded in half.

“Hey!” I call out after him, now seeing him much clearer.

He spins back, a frown creasing his face, blue eyes narrowing. “What?”

I bend and swipe the paper up. “You dropped this.”

He looks away, as if contemplating whether retrieving said paper is worth the four steps back. A beat passes before he strides to where I stand, slipping the paper from my fingers. Without a word, he walks back the way he was heading.

“You could say thank you!” Iris calls out after him.

He throws a hand over his shoulder and, without looking back, says, “You could look where you’re walking.”

“Urgh! Ass!” Iris seethes.

I chuckle. There’s something so familiar about this short exchange.

The café is buzzing when we return. Paige is swamped. Errol sits at the counter, his usual lunch order in front of him.

“How’s things?” Iris asks Paige as she shucks her bags behind the counter and dons her apron.

“Okay.” She gives her a little awkward smile.

“Oh, I know that face. What happened?” Iris says.

“Ah, some guy came in asking odd questions.” Paige glances at me.

“Told him to take a hike,” Errol says.

That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Errol defend a McCreary.

Wow, news sure travels fast in small towns. I’m guessing the fact that Ava is alive has shocked a lot of folks.

Maybe even Errol’s softened.

“Don’t need any more riffraff from your lot coming around here. He can go back to where he came from.” Errol bites his sandwich like it killed his firstborn.

Well, there goes that theory.

“How do you figure he’s ‘one of our lot’?” Iris asks, using air quotes.

“Why would anyone else bother with a McCreary? Has to be family. Maybe that brother of yours owes the guy money...” Errol’s contemplating his theories when it hits me.

“What did he say his name was?” I ask.

Errol’s gaze is still sour when it swings round to me. “Didn’t. And I wasn’t bothered to ask.”

Helpful. Really helpful.

“Well,” Iris says to Paige, “if he comes back, ring me if I’m not here, okay?”

“Will do,” she says with a smile, then wanders out to the tables to pick up and check on patrons.

I slide onto the stool by Errol, and he glances sideways at me, chewing.

I see some things never change.

I text Cal, letting him know Iris and I are done. We can go home anytime now. The sooner I’m back on Fire Island with Cal, the better. Coming to town is nice, but I miss our solitude. The one place where we are just us. No peopling to be done. No rude pedestrians. No hateful old men.

Just us.

Firefly slips in by the jetty, and I haul my bags from the deck and drop them over the side onto the wood. Cal kills the engine as I step over, grabbing my bags. He follows, his overnighter in one hand as he catches up with me, taking my bag.

“In a hurry, baby girl?”

“Done with other people, is all. And so glad to be home.”

He chuckles, but it catches in his throat. When I feel him hang behind, I stop and turn back. “What are you doing?”

He simply stares at me.

I drop the bags to the grassy ground. His falls from his hand as he closes the distance between us.

His hands cup my face before he’s even in my space.

Sliding my arms around his neck, I arch up as his mouth crashes down to my lips.

He pulls away breathlessly, and I search his face. “What’s this about?”

He swallows, hard. “I didn’t think I would ever get this.”

The chance of having love?

I shift on my feet, running a hand down his chest. “So, about that...”

His expression blanks, hands falling from my face. He sets his jaw, like this is the moment he’s been waiting for. That deadly blow he’s certain is coming.

“Evie . . .” His throat works.

I’m scaring him. Shit, I’m no good at this. So I blurt out, “I’m not going back to the city.”

He frowns, confusion working his face over.

“I mean, my lease comes up soon, in a couple of months... and I don’t know if I renew it or...” Now, I search his expression for any hint of how he feels about me staying.

“You’re letting your apartment go?”

“Am I?”

His face shifts like the wind changing in a wild storm, cheekiness lining it now. “Are you?”

I growl at him, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. “If you’re waiting on me to decide what I want and demand it, then... I’m letting my apartment go.”

The most gorgeous smile splits his face. A beat later, I’m hauled onto his waist and his warm hands run up my back. “You and me, tell me what we are.”

I huff a soft, emotional laugh and whisper, “Nonnegotiable.”

“You got it.”

I slide my hands over his jaw and into his hair, claiming his mouth.

Claiming this stoic, steady, and incredible man as mine.

Meeting my hunger with his own, Cal devours me. I can’t breathe. I can’t get enough.

I never want to be anywhere else but right here in his arms. Right here on our little island. In our huge old wrought iron bed. In our little world, growing food, writing books, watching the weather, and being in each other’s orbit.

And it hits me... Cal isn’t the only one who never thought he’d never have something like this.

I didn’t either.

Not after Joshua.

Not after Timothy . . .

I’d resigned myself to hiding away, staying as antisocial as possible to avoid involving anyone else in my disaster of a life.

Even now, with those two men still out there somewhere, I will never relax.

Every time Cal’s late or I’m by myself, I will worry Timothy kept his word and be looking over my shoulder.

Cal knows everything, and he’s not fazed—in the slightest.

This doesn’t remove my fear that something will happen to him again. But at least with him knowing, the odds are stacked in our favor now.

We haul our bags into the house, and Cal totes them upstairs while I rummage through the refrigerator for a snack. Finding cheese, some sweet cherry tomatoes, and crackers, I put together a plate. I toss some ice cubes from the freezer into two glasses and fill the glasses with tap water.

Cal winds his way down the stairs slowly as I carry the glasses to the coffee table. Sinking onto the sofa without a word, he’s caught in his head. I sit beside him and pluck up some food. Handing him a glass, I tilt my head. “Spill it, McCreary.”

He chuckles but clears his throat. “Evie?”

I close my lips around a tomato and suck it into my mouth. “Mhmmm?”

I bite down, the red sphere exploding with delicious juices.

“Mo ghràdh, will you go on a date with me?”

I swallow the tomato and smile, shifting to his lap. “Absolutely.”

He presses his forehead to mine, closing his eyes. “This kind of feels backward. We’ve already... But I want you to have every good experience I can give you.”

“I would go anywhere with you, sweet man.”

“You may regret those words,” he says with a chuckle.

“Why?”

“That old Indian is going to need a good long road trip to iron out the kinks, get her running smoothly again.”

“I stand by my earlier statement.”

His gorgeous smile is contagious. “How the hell did I get so damn lucky...”

I lean back to grab a tomato. One of my favorite things to pop between his lips. “Oh, I almost forgot. Iris and I ran into this guy today in town...”