Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel

  The two men worked together to repair the flashing and a decayed fastener. “Good thing you’ve got copper nails,” he told Clancy. “They last forever. And with the proper maintenance, a roof like this could survive another hundred years, even in storms like the one we got yesterday.”

  Well, that did it. Clancy couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. He sat back on his heels. “So, what’s your story?”

  The guy smiled. “I’m not even sure I have one.”

  “Do you go by your full first name?”

  “My friends call me Ash.”

  “What kind of work do you do? Are you in construction?”

  Ash chuckled. “No. But I worked for my grandfather when I was in high school and college. He was in architectural preservation.”

  Well, that made sense. “And now? What kind of work do you do now?”

  “I run a nonprofit. And I’ve owned my own management consultant business for about six years, though I’m thinking of closing up shop.”

  Somehow, Clancy managed not to laugh his ass off. This guy was about his age. Must be nice to “retire” from a lucrative consulting business and move into the world of philanthropy all before you hit thirty-five. “Are you based in Boston?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting.” Clancy stood, gathering the damaged tiles, noting how bare-bones his answers had been. Ash hadn’t given anything that wasn’t asked for, which was never a good sign. “So that’s a beautiful boat you got there. Saw it yesterday down at the yard.”

  “Thank you. It was my grandfather’s. I inherited it when he died.” Ash gathered tools and a few stray nails. He stood, too. “Do you sail?”

  “Of course.”

  Clancy gestured for Ash to go ahead along the roof toward the cupola window. He wanted to make sure he got safely inside with the toolbox before he handed him the box of tiles. He climbed in behind Ash.

  “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know how to sail,” Clancy said. “My boat is a seventy-seven Catalina 27. I started restoring her when I came back to the island six years ago.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  Clancy was fishing and Ash wasn’t biting. He wasn’t sure if that was because the guy wasn’t a big talker or because he didn’t know enough about boats to have this conversation. They made their way down the back staircase that would eventually end on the main floor between the kitchen and Imelda’s apartment, Clancy walking ahead. “So how about you, Ash? Do you sail a lot?”

  He laughed. “I sail as often as I can, which isn’t as often as I’d like. I’ve still got a lot to learn, I’m afraid. My grandfather would roll around in his grave if he knew I had to call for a tow yesterday.”

  Clancy had to admit that Ash’s answers sounded solid enough, but it wouldn’t hurt to do some snooping around when he had a few extra minutes. He wasn’t completely sold on the big spender’s story. Some of it seemed a little too convenient. He shows up out of the blue and offers that kind of money to his sister? An offer too good to refuse at a time when it had never been more desperately needed? And what about the sailboat? The chain plate rusting could happen to anyone, he supposed. But not knowing enough to check the gas and oil? That took a special kind of cluelessness, the kind this Ash guy didn’t seem to have. Clancy didn’t know what this guy was up to, but he was up to something.

  Besides, it was obvious that Rowan was attracted to Ash. And that, more than anything, unnerved the hell out of him.

  Chapter Seven

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Rowan glanced over the back of her beach chair and saw her best friend Annie smiling as she walked down the beach toward the water’s edge, kicking up sand as she went. With the last of the sun setting behind her, Annie looked like a glowing, statuesque angel, an angel with long blond hair, an angel who’d kick her ass from here to Sunday if she learned about Ash from anyone but Rowan herself.

  Annie plopped down into the beach chair next to Rowan’s. “So where’s Poseidon?”

  Rowan thought it interesting that she brought up the topic immediately. Did she already know? It wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility, since both Imelda and Clancy had kindly reminded Rowan of her festival-week track record of hooking up with dickhead strangers. Clearly, they suspected she was about to repeat—or already had repeated—the mistake with Ash. And they might have already shared their concern with Annie.

  “I have no idea where he is.” She tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Huh,” Annie said. “I thought for sure you’d be keeping tabs on him.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  Annie laughed. “Well, because you claimed you nearly had an orgasm showing him around your apartment. I figured you’d be up there showing him how to use the electric can opener or something.”

  Rowan laughed, too, relaxing a little. Despite her plan to never mention the incident to another soul, she knew in her heart that she had to tell Annie. Of course she did. In all the years they’d been friends, they’d never kept secrets, no matter how embarrassing the details might be. Annie had confided in Rowan the moment she realized she was in love with Nat—even though she’d known him for only a few hours. Rowan had walked her through it, offering loving support and commonsense advice, with a little good-natured ribbing thrown in for the hell of it. It’s what they’d been doing for each other since preschool. Rowan knew she’d have to take a deep breath and say what had to be said.

  But Annie spoke before she had a chance.

  “Thanks for dragging my ass out here this evening.” She dug her toes into the wet sand and sighed with relief as the low tide rolled up to her ankles. “It’s been completely insane today. I had so many customers that my head was buzzing. I really needed to get out of the store.”

  “It’s been insane for me, too.”

  “I heard you did the Safe Haven proud out there today, rockin’ your wicked-sexy mermaid outfit. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you float by.”

  “Psshhh. Nothing you haven’t seen a hundred times.”

  Annie rested her head against the high back of the beach chair and lazily looked Rowan’s way. It took her about a half second to see that something was wrong. Annie’s eyes widened and she sat straight up. “What is it?”

  Rowan didn’t know how to begin, so she just shook her head.

  “What’s wrong? Oh my God—did something happen to Duncan?”

  “No!” She felt ashamed of herself. She hadn’t meant to look that distraught. Poor Annie assumed it was a life-or-death situation when it was just another man mishap. Rowan needed to pull herself together. “Duncan’s fine, as far as we know, though we haven’t heard from him in weeks.”

  “Is he coming home for the cookout?”

  “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “Yikes. Mona must be flipping out.” Annie settled back into her chair once more, though her eyes remained wide. “So what is it, Row?”

  “It’s about Ash.”

  She looked confused. “Ash? What ash?”

  “Poseidon.”

  “Oooh. That’s right—Thurston Howell the third.” Annie rubbed the soles of her feet into the sand. “Let me guess. You discovered he’s married, so the whole rolling around naked thing is off the table.”

  Rowan almost choked. Oh God! Could he be married? Just then it occurred to her that she didn’t know if he was married! In fact, it hadn’t even occurred to her that he might be married! She hadn’t seen a ring, but that didn’t mean anything, right? Stupid, blind, gullible—with a side of reprehensible sauce!

  “Uh-oh.” Annie’s mouth parted. She gripped the worn wooden arms of the beach chair and stared at Rowan.

  “I know. I know. I’m stupid, blind, gullible, and reprehensible.”

  Annie pursed her lips. “Well, let’s not get carried away, here. At least you haven’t . . .” Their eyes locked. Annie jumped to her feet. “You’ve slept with him already?”

  “Sssshhh!” Rowan pulled her down aga
in, frantic that anyone walking along the beach could have heard the outburst. Luckily, the party girls from the Tea Rose Room were the only guests within view, and they were too far away to eavesdrop. She thanked God for the ever-present rumble of the ocean.

  Annie collapsed into the chair again, out of breath. “When did this happen?”

  “Uh, you remember how we were on the phone yesterday when the power went out?”

  Annie nodded.

  “I realized I hadn’t given him a flashlight. So I took some candles over there, but it was pitch-black. He was standing in the hall but I couldn’t see him, so I ran into him and he was naked and—”

  “He was already naked?”

  “Ssshhh! Yes. He must have been in the shower when the lights went out. He was naked and wet.”

  Annie put her hand over her heart. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Neither can I! And now . . . well, I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. I know better than this! I must be completely crazy. What am I going to do?”

  Her friend’s hand remained on her heart. To a random passerby it might look like she was in the middle of the Pledge of Allegiance.

  “Well?”

  “Hold on a minute, please. I’m still stuck on the naked, wet, and in the dark part.”

  “Annie!”

  “Okay. Okay.” She turned in her chair and leaned in toward Rowan, patting her knee. “You have the standard two choices.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. You can forgive yourself for having a weak moment and put it behind you. Or, if it was incredible and special and he seems worth the effort, you step back and find a way to get to know him, make it more than a random hookup. You know, a do over.”

  “How the hell would I do that?”

  “Talk to the man. Just sit down somewhere and talk.”

  Rowan bit the inside of her cheek and stared out at the sea. It was impossible to decipher what the little voice in the back of her head was saying, because it was all but drowned out by the ruckus of conflicting emotions crashing around like bumper cars in her brain. Should she chalk this up as a mistake and move on? Or should she put herself out there and try to get to know Ash as a person, despite the wildly improper way they started? Rowan couldn’t help but wonder if a woman was allowed only one “heart-over-head” pass in life. If so, she’d wasted hers on Frederick.

  “What are you thinking, Row?”

  She shrugged, wiggling her toes in the cool sand. “I’m thinking it would have been better if it had never happened in the first place.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Rowan raised her eyes to her best friend. She didn’t have to say a thing.

  “Oh. That good, huh?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely uh-mazing.”

  “Nice.”

  “But here’s the kicker. The sex was great, but he seems just as great. He gave Zophie a hundred-dollar tip at breakfast this morning, but not when I was around to see him do it, so it wasn’t just for show.”

  “Damn.”

  “Plus he took the wheelbarrow to the woodpile for me without being asked and then volunteered to help Clancy patch the roof after the storm. He seems to be a genuinely decent guy.”

  Annie lowered her chin and raised her eyebrows at the same time. “But isn’t that what you said you wanted—a roll in the hay with a gorgeous, decent man who was only passing through?”

  Rowan laughed. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “So why are you upset?”

  “I’m not upset, exactly. I’m totally freaking out!”

  Annie tipped her head and frowned. “Let me see if I’ve got this. He’s a Greek god, a good-hearted guy with tons of money, and you had a fabulous no-strings time with him.”

  “I did.”

  “You said you could handle that.”

  “I guess I was wrong.” Rowan bit down on her lip to keep from blubbering.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Annie leaned closer and grabbed both of Rowan’s hands. “I know you’re thinking about when you met Frederick. It’s understandable that you’re freaking out a little. But this Ash guy isn’t Freder-dick. He isn’t setting you up to steal from you and your family. He’s not asking you to run off with him, and you’re not falling hopelessly in love with him. This is not déjà vu, Row. This is a completely different situation, and you aren’t some kind of powerless sitting duck. You can protect yourself and your heart.”

  Rowan couldn’t hold her tears another minute. She’d been fighting the desire to cry since the lights came on and she was lying on the floor of her apartment in a stranger’s arms, her heart as naked as her body. Maybe Annie had just identified the real problem here. It wasn’t only that Rowan had acted impulsively and had sex with a stranger. It was the fact that she was unable to separate the sex from emotion, and she swore that the moment she laid eyes on Ash standing in the Safe Haven’s foyer, she began to have feelings for him, and the sex made those feelings more intense. And so here she was, her heart already attached to a man who was nothing more than a one-night stand.

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

  Rowan nodded. When she tasted the saltiness of her own tears, she realized the crying had begun.

  “Row, tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours. Do the best you can.”

  “I don’t know exactly.” Rowan’s voice came out in a whisper. “It’s so strange, Annie. I knew there was something extraordinary about him the second I met him, and when I smacked into him in the dark it was like I was being pulled in, like a magnet, like I couldn’t have saved myself even if I wanted to, which I didn’t.”

  “Oh boy.” Annie squeezed Rowan’s hands tight.

  “I know that you fell in love with Nat immediately. I’m not saying that’s what’s going on with me. I don’t know what I feel, and after everything I’ve been through with Frederick, I’m not even sure I know what love is. But I can’t stop thinking about Ash. I keep hoping he’s standing there when I round the corner or come out to the yard. There’s a thousand questions I want to ask him about his family and what he likes to eat and what kind of music he listens to and what the most important things are to him. I changed my clothes three times today after the parade, thinking about how I would look to him. But that’s not even the weirdest part.”

  Annie smiled encouragingly. “I’m listening.”

  Rowan looked into her best friend’s eyes, asking for forgiveness in advance for the ridiculous, bizarre, crazy shit that was about to come out of her mouth. “He feels it, too. I see how he looks at me, and I think he’s just as blown away by this as I am. It’s like . . .” Rowan sighed, giving herself one last opportunity to stop before she said aloud what she’d been thinking silently all day.

  “Go on.” Annie squeezed her hands tighter.

  “I really hate to use these exact words, for obvious reasons, but it’s like common sense is no match for whatever I feel. It’s like I’m drowning and there’s nothing I can do to save myself.”

  ***

  Soon after the mermaid fountain was unveiled to the people of Bayberry Island, stories began to circulate about her special powers. Lovesick girls swore the mermaid could reveal to them their true loves, if only they would ask with a pure heart. Young men claimed to fall under a magical spell in the mermaid’s presence, saying they became consumed with a passion beyond reason for one particular girl they envisioned in their mind’s eye—often one they had never met and had no name for! Islanders agreed it had to be magic!

  “Or puberty.” Ash rolled his eyes, snatching the still-cold bottle of Sam Adams from the nightstand and taking a long draw. He didn’t usually drink beer, but it seemed like the right choice for this warm summer night as he lay in bed, alone by the open window, listening to the sea, reading tourist brochures, and trying to keep his mind off the woman who usually slept in these sheets, on these pillows, in this room, atop this carriage house.

  And really, that would have been plenty difficult to handle, but he a
lso had the painting to deal with. Even at that moment, he felt the original oil portrait staring at him from the wall. Ash risked a quick glance at the horizontal canvas. Still there. Still about four feet long and at least a couple feet high, Rowan’s reclining likeness morphed into mermaid form, her hair and skin alive in rich swirls of color against a blue-black night sky, moon glow dancing in her eyes and upon her bare upper body, iridescent scales, and the water lapping up around her. He looked away.

  It made sense for Rowan to have an original Adelena Silva in her apartment. Adelena was Imelda’s daughter, and she and Rowan had grown up together. And of course the famous artist would give Rowan the complete mermaid makeover in the fantastical style she was known for.

  But Ash hadn’t anticipated something this beautiful, so shockingly sensual—the painting or the woman. Maybe there were some things a man simply couldn’t prepare for. He returned the beer to the nightstand and resumed reading.

  As the years went by, the legend evolved into its expanded, modern-day form. It goes like this:

  True love is like the sea—beautiful, deep, and life-giving but unpredictable, powerful, and even dangerous. To succeed at love, you must set out on your journey with a true heart and be prepared to be tossed by waves of passion or drown in love’s undertow.

  The legend claims that anyone who comes to the mermaid, kisses her hand, and pledges to go wherever love leads, will find happiness. But beware—those who come to the mermaid with preconceived notions about the “how, who, when, and wheres” of true love will find heartache instead!

  Having reached his maximum load for mermaid drivel—and exclamation points—Ash picked up a brochure on the history of the Flynn family and their fishing empire. He’d already read everything on record about the clan and Flynn Fisheries, from far more objective source material, but he found the brochure entertaining, if only for the way it skipped over the more colorful tidbits of the family’s history. There was no mention of the legendary drunken brawls between Rutherford’s four sons or the generations of grudges, nepotism, and monopoly ownership of the island’s businesses, much less the Prohibition speakeasy that had once operated in the Safe Haven’s basement.