Page 29 of Fire Island (Fire Island #2)

Twenty-Eight

CALLUM

R eese is in the shack. Check.

Evie is finishing up her words—five minutes, she said. Check.

The sun is setting slowly. Check.

The small navy velvet box sits on the east ledge of the lantern room, ready to be lit up. My heart is in my damn throat with the plan I fully intend to execute the second Evie crosses the threshold of the room.

The last rays of the day pour through the glass top of the lighthouse, shattering as they meet the lamp in the center, casting a brilliant golden-tinged rainbow around the room, at my feet, and passing over my face like molasses in winter as the suns sinks further.

A soft knock comes at the right time.

Sucking in a fortifying breath, I stand in front of the door, blocking her view of the room as I open it.

“Close your eyes, baby girl.”

She huffs a nervous breath and her eyelids close. She holds out a hand. “Did you sweep out the glass?”

“Maybe. You’ll see.”

“What are you up to, McCreary?”

McCreary. I can’t wait for that name to be hers, too.

For us to be officially inseparable.

Nonnegotiable. On paper.

It’s a nice thought.

I lead her into the lantern room, checking her eyes are, in fact, sealed shut.

“Where’s Reese?” she asks.

“In the shack. Shhhh.”

Her brows rise in tandem, and I smile at the prettiest little face she’s ever pulled.

I move her toward the new Fresnel and stop her in front of the control panel.

The internal lever that turns the power on.

The one that is only ever turned on once, and then the auto-system takes over.

It’s on the inside, so I take her hand and send it into the apparatus until her fingertips are touching it.

“Now, do not open your eyes when you push this lever down, okay?”

She gasps.

She’s got it.

“Cal! When?”

“While you and Iris were busy lunching yesterday.”

“Oh my god. I want to open my eyes. Please?”

“You can when I say so.”

“Fine.” She smiles around the word.

“Push the lever down, mo ghràdh.”

She pushes it down, and the queen flickers to life, her dazzling beam shooting through the glass walls that keep her, piercing through the pale violet sky around us. Evie’s hands explore the glass lamp above the lever.

“Oh,” she cries.

I move her where she stands to face the eastern wall, safely with her back to the lamp. “Open your eyes, Evie baby.”

Her eyes fly open, and she stares with wonder capturing her face as the light behind us swings around, leaving her glittering glow across the lantern room. The small box on the ledge glows with every pass and it takes a little while for her to notice it.

“What is that?” she asks, taking a step toward it.

She reaches the east wall, and I flick the lever up and kill the Fresnel. She picks up the box and spins back round. I hit the floor on one knee.

Her face slackens.

I’ve never been one for long speeches. So I get to the point.

“Evie Holland. Love of my damn life. Will you marry me?”

She looks down at the box in her hand.

“Open it,” I rasp.

She simply stares at me, her face twisting with shock before she sinks to her knees, her hands wandering my face. As she huffs a strangled laugh that disintegrates into a sob, the box slips from her hand, still closed. “Where else would I be?”

“Baby, you’re gonna have to spell it out for me,” I rasp through my own swollen throat. I search her face desperately for what she means.

“Of course I will, Cal.”

Tears slip from her eyes as her hands settle on my jaw, and she pulls my mouth down to hers.

Happiness is a man with the woman he will love for the rest of his life.

That’s me. I’m that man.

“Cal,” she whispers as she pulls away. “Turn the lamp back on.”

I chuckle, knowing what she means. Remembering the last time we were up here, tangled in each other. I flick the lever up and the Fresnel bursts to life. Like my heart just did when Evie agreed to be mine, and me hers.

I rock back on my heels, and she climbs onto my lap.

I reach past her and flip the velvet box open, sliding the ring onto her elegant finger, and her face breaks.

Her other hand covers her mouth as I lace my fingers through hers.

Her bejeweled ring finger sparkles insanely every time the light swings around.

Ring forgotten, her fingers tug at my beard, her mouth parting.

She rocks on my lap, eyes darkening by the second.

Her mouth finds mine again . . .

My little woman is fucking starving.

“That’s new.” Reese shovels a mouthful of cereal into his face.

The look on my face ought to be warning enough.

Evie simply smiles and says, “It is.”

“Congrats?” Reese drawls.

“I have work to do.” Evie plucks up her half-finished bowl and takes it to the sink.

When she’s safely upstairs, I glower at him.

“What?” The most innocent look washes over his face.

I would ask him if his mother didn’t love him enough, but we both know the answer to that one. “One more syllable, bud, and you’re out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

He leans back, running his hands through his hair. In a T-shirt and sweats, his frame is so similar to mine. Stretching out on the chair, he looks around. “How much do they pay you for living like a hermit?”

“Enough.”

His gaze drops. “I didn’t mean any?—”

“I mean they pay me enough.”

“Oh, okay. How’d you land this gig?”

“It was my father’s before me.”

“Oh shit, then I guess then it’s mine in, what, twenty years?”

That pulls a chuckle from me. He’s a smart ass, but he’s witty, I’ll give him that. “Maybe, but I would recommend just about anything else if you want a life.”

“Nah, people are overrated.”

“Sometimes they are.” I take my bowl to the sink and rinse it out. “Why aren’t you at college?”

“Not my thing.”

“Not your thing, or you didn’t get in?”

He snaps his focus to me now, his face hard.

Like I said, a mirror.

“You have to do something with your life. Living here isn’t a life.”

“It’s yours.”

“Yeah. Because the life I had before this was destroyed.”

Too much?

“Another thing Ava’s pride has ruined,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I have no idea what I want to do, that’s the problem, and low-paying jobs don’t do it for me.”

“Sometimes, you take what you can. At least until something better comes along.”

“Yeah, maybe . . .”

I walk past, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, bud.”

He shrugs my hand away, and I chuckle as I climb the stairs. He’s just too easy to rile up. But I’m deadly serious about this island, it’s no place for a young man. This is an old man’s game. He deserves a life, and I will make sure he gets one.

Even if he hates me for it.

Waiting for Evie, I walk the distance between Iris’s and the library where I dropped her this morning.

We’re staying the night while Reese keeps an eye on the lighthouse.

I gave him a thorough rundown. Besides, the lamp itself is automated.

He only needs to radio the watchhouse if something goes wrong.

I pray to the heavens the old girl behaves.

We haven’t told Em or Iris about the engagement yet.

Evie called her parents this morning. That went over as well as a fart in church since they’ve never met me.

.. And I’m not a great deal younger than them.

She was disappointed to say the least, so I’m hoping Iris’s excitement can mend that hurt a little.

The doors to the library whoosh open, and Evie walks out, waving her goodbyes to a trio of young girls holding copies of her books. When she turns to focus on where she’s going, her gaze lands on me.

“Oh, hey. I could have met you at the café... But I’m glad I didn’t have to.” Her arms slide around my neck automatically, and I wrap her in my hold.

“Hungry, my famous, beautiful girl?”

“What, no Gaelic?” She smiles.

The three girls are all but plastered to the glass window at the front of the library, watching their favorite author.

“You have an audience,” I breathe.

“I do?” She turns back and gives the girls another little wave. “We should get to Iris’s before dark.”

“We should. When does the library close?”

“Around seven, I think. It stays open later Friday night for book club.”

“What a way to spend a Friday night,” I drawl.

She slaps my arm, and I chuckle.

“Come on, Irry’s waiting. I can’t wait to see her explode when she discovers the rock on your hand.”

“Such a loving big brother.”

“Hey, I’ve got decades of torment from that girl. This might wipe a few years clean.”

“Happy to be of service,” she whispers into my ear, lacing her fingers through mine.

We make it to the café in good time. It’s all but cleared out tonight, with people mostly frequenting restaurants and pubs for their Friday night fun. As we approach, the last few people leave through the front door, and Iris turns the Open sign to Closed .

We meet the door as she goes to turn the lock. “Oh, where’d you two come from?” Her face lights up.

I tilt my head, giving her a deadpan look. “Let us in, Irry.”

She narrows her eyes and rubs her chin comically like she’s thinking it over. “Fine.” She beams as she opens the door, and we slip inside.

“You’re just in time to see Em, he’ll be here in a few.”

“Got another sofa to move?” I tease.

Iris’s eyes narrow. “You’ll be on it tonight if you keep that up, Cal.”

“You kicking me outta bed, baby girl?” I ask Evie.

She tamps down her amusement as she shakes her head. “Nope.”

Iris studies the two of us for a moment before heading behind the counter and disappearing into her living space. We follow. I have to run back to the boat and grab our overnight bag, but I’m sure Evie can keep our secret a little longer. “Be back in a minute. I’ll go grab the bag.”

I peck a kiss to her cheek, and she releases my hand. “Okay. I’ll be here.”

I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes playfully.

Out on the sidewalk, I make quick time to cross the road and parking lot and skip down the stairs to the marina.

Firefly bobs in her slip, and I step over the side and into the cabin.

The overnighter is under the bench seat.

I pluck it up and turn back to leave. Something white on the console catches my eye.

I spin back and snatch it up.

A letter.

Addressed to Evie.

I look around the boat, as if whoever left it could still be here. Dropping the bag, I open it.

The messy handwriting is all aggressive strokes and impatient cursive. Like someone wrote this angry.

My eyes fly down the page.

My heart races faster with every sentence.

At the bottom, it’s signed with one letter.

T.

I flick my focus to the top of the page...

He called her Butterfly.

Butterfly.

I crumple the page in my fist.

“Hello?” Em’s voice drifts in from the dock. I pluck up the overnight bag and disembark.

Without a word, I hand the note to Em.

Em looks up after reading the note, his face tight with worry. “He’s back?”

“He steps one foot on our island and?—”

“We have to take this to the police, Cal. The longer we wait, the longer she’s in danger. And so are you.”

He holds the note out. “They have her abduction on record; this is all they would need to put them away. He’s basically threatened to kill the both of you.”

I can’t tell Evie about this now. Tonight’s supposed to be about us. About our enga?—

“Here goes.” Em nods at two figures walking toward us in the half dark, dressed like trouble with dark jeans and hoodies. I drop the bag and brace on a widened stance. Em’s built, like a Corps officer should be. We may be older, but we’re formidable.

Em folds his arms over his chest, putting on his harbormaster’s voice. “You boys lost? This gangway is for boat owners. You’re trespassing.”

Technically they’re not, but it’s my guess Em hopes they don’t know that.

They don’t respond and Emmett monitors them as they stride past, like nobody spoke to them.

I strain to see the faces under the hoodies. I can’t see anything clearly. And as much as I would love to get my hands on the low-life piece of shit who hurt Evie, now is not the time. Emmett in uniform is not the right time. He would be fired for assaulting a civilian.

No.

I’ll handle this on the island when the time comes.

The note still clutched in Emmett’s hand tells me that day isn’t too far away.