Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel

  Clearly, the usually reserved Darinda was caught up in the excitement. Her voice had risen to a squeak. “When I asked him if he felt differently after he kissed the Great Mermaid’s hand, he said ‘no.’ But I think he wasn’t telling the truth. And when I asked if he’d gotten to know Rowan, he said ‘some,’ but that wasn’t true either.”

  Mona scooted to the edge of the sofa. “I made some calls. I ran this up the flagpole with Annie, Clancy, Imelda, Zophie the maid, and even the nudists.”

  “‘Zophie and the Nudists.’ Sounds like the name of a punk-rock band.”

  Mona pointed in Polly’s direction.

  “Oh, for God’s sake. I’m just adding some levity.”

  “Levity?” Mona laughed. “Let me assure you, this is quite serious. Ashton Wallace and my daughter are falling in love.”

  The sentence fell with a thud upon the room. No one moved or breathed or even whispered.

  “Here’s what I found out.” Mona whipped out a single sheet of paper from her three-ring binder. It would help her keep her facts straight. She was too wound up to rely on her memory.

  “Fact number one: He basically bribed Rowan into letting him stay there. Fact two: Soon after they lost power on the cove, Imelda saw Rowan run out to the carriage house but didn’t see her return until the power came back on and that was more than an hour later, and the next morning Rowan seemed preoccupied and was dropping things.”

  Mona scanned the room and nodded at the shocked expressions. “But wait. There’s more. Fact three: The nudists said they met Ashton immediately after the Man Grab and that he couldn’t take his eyes off Rowan. They said the poor boy reminded them of a stunned bird after it ran headfirst into a plate-glass window. Fact four: Clancy and . . .” Mona couldn’t bring herself to say Frasier’s name aloud. She started over. “Ashton spoke to Clancy and his father during Island Day, saying he planned on taking Rowan out for ice cream. Fact five: One of the summer workers at the marine yard told Zophie that he saw Rowan and Ashton kissing by his boat and—”

  “Hold up.” Polly raised her hand. “If this goes on much longer, I’m definitely going to need a glass of merlot.”

  Mona ignored her. “Fact six: Imelda caught them canoodling on the love magnet this morning after breakfast. And fact seven is the best one of all. I spoke to Annie just a few minutes ago. I asked her if she knew anything about Rowan and the man staying in her apartment and she hung up on me!”

  “Imagine that,” Abby said.

  “So what does this mean?” Izzy looked puzzled. “Did the mermaid send him to the Safe Haven? To Rowan?”

  “He said it was a brochure.” Darinda looked embarrassed to share that detail.

  “But the Great Mermaid sent him to Rowan, right?” Layla O’Brien was breathless.

  Mona shook her head very slowly. “That is what we must decide. We need to investigate further. Observe the two of them. Eventually we’ll need to speak to Rowan.”

  “Oh boy.” Polly ran a hand over her whole face.

  “But that’s not our most pressing concern. Our first job is to stop Ashton from leaving the island. He told Darinda that he planned to leave as soon as his boat was repaired.”

  “Wait a second.” Izzy waved her arms around. “If he’s in love, why is he planning to leave?”

  Mona expected this would come up. “That’s something else we’ll have to investigate further. Our first job is to make sure that isn’t even an option for him.”

  “I’m going to talk to Deacon Sully.” Darinda smiled devilishly. “I’m going to tell him to work real slow.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Polly said.

  “Listen up, ladies.” Mona clapped her hands together. “Zophie says that Ashton is Rowan’s date for the clambake. No matter what your duties are tonight, keep an eye on them. Listen in if you can. We need to get a handle on this situation.”

  “Uh, Mona?” Abby looked worried.

  “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “But, Mona. We messed up so badly last time. Are you sure it’s a good idea to interfere with Rowan’s love life again?”

  Mona was prepared for this. “We’re going to go about things differently this time. If the Great Mermaid has made this love possible—and if it’s a real, right, and true love—Rowan will reach that conclusion on her own.” She smiled. “We will be close by to help her along, but on an as-needed basis, of course.”

  “Great.” Polly stood up. “My ass is needing that merlot right about now.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “She did what?”

  “About a half hour ago.” Annie clearly hated to be the bearer of bad news. “She knows about Poseidon. She was asking about the man in your apartment and whether you’d been spending time with him. I knew I had to call you right away.”

  Rowan tipped her head back and stared at the pressed-tin ceiling of the kitchen. This wasn’t completely unexpected news, but she’d deluded herself into thinking she had another day or two of undisturbed bliss before her mother stomped all over her life.

  “I hung up on her.”

  She managed to laugh. “Thanks. I guess.” Rowan knew that a dial tone would be nothing more than the ding, ding, ding, ding! of victory for her mother. “Tonight’s gonna be real interesting.”

  “Maybe you should talk to her in advance of the clambake.”

  Rowan shook her head. “No. I’m just going to steer clear. Maybe, if I’m really lucky, she’ll be cool.”

  “Hmm,” Annie hummed.

  “Okay. Forget that.”

  “So what are you wearing?”

  Rowan appreciated Annie trying to cheer her up with a change of subject. “I don’t think I’ve worn it since I left New York, but I have this retro halter sundress, you know, kind of a fifties va-va-voom vibe. It’s got a low-cut sweetheart neckline.”

  “Perfect. What color is it?”

  “White.”

  “Sounds gorge.”

  “How about you?”

  “Probably some pale blue crop pants and a matching tank.”

  “That will look beautiful with your eyes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m so freaking pissed off right now.”

  Annie sighed. “I know you are. You have every right to be. Listen, want me to run interference with her?”

  Rowan shook her head and shut her eyes. “No. Obviously, if Mona knows about me and Ash, everyone knows, and you can’t very well go around slapping duct tape over everyone’s mouth, especially since they paid a hundred dollars for an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

  “Sounds kind of cathartic, actually.”

  Rowan chuckled. “I do need to give Ash some kind of heads-up, but I’m not sure how much to say. You know how whacked my mother and her crazies are. I don’t want Ash to think the whole island expects us to love each other until the day we both drop dead.”

  “Yeah.” Annie paused. “Not a lot of men respond positively to shit like that. Tends to make them run screaming.”

  Rowan laughed. “No kidding, especially since we’ve known each other only a few days. So what do I tell him?”

  “I’m drawing a blank here.”

  Rowan checked the kitchen clock. It was four p.m. She had about an hour before she had to start getting ready, and she still needed to get her dress out of her apartment closet. “I’ll come up with something.”

  “I have complete faith in you.”

  * * *

  Ash lolled his head around as the hot water cascaded down his neck, shoulders, back, and arms. He hummed along to the tunes playing on his smartphone, which he’d propped up on the sink. This particular music dredged up a lot of memories—all good. During day sails on the Provenance, these songs by folk rocker Ray LaMontagne would pour from the cabin. He and Brian would drink beer, laugh, and work together to harness the power found in the wind and water as the music played.

  But those days are long gone. Now he leaned a palm against the tile wall of the shower
and let his head fall forward, water spilling over his face. The weight of the guilt was unbearable. A few feet away, on Rowan’s bed, was his duffel. It was packed with the few items he’d brought from the boat to the carriage house, ready once more to toss over his shoulder. He’d head to the boat as soon as he was dressed. He’d sleep in the cabin tonight, or on the deck under the stars if the weather held. He’d get out of Sully’s way if there was more work to be done, but he knew he couldn’t stay here another night.

  He felt surrounded by Rowan. It felt like every minute he spent in her bed, in her apartment, in her world, further infused him with her essence. That wasn’t good. It wasn’t right. Because he was just an imposter, and he’d let too much time go by without telling her the truth. Even if he ran to her right this minute, sat her down, and spilled everything, it wouldn’t fix the fact that he’d already deceived her. Nothing could undo what he’d already done.

  Rowan would forever see him as a fraud. She’d see another Frederick Theissen.

  He turned off the water, wiped his body down with a towel, and quickly wrapped it around his hips. He stepped out into the hallway just in time to see Rowan coming up the stairs.

  Ash froze. The instant she cleared the stairwell, she stopped moving. Her mouth fell open and her gaze widened, then slid down his body.

  This wasn’t your basic dose of déjà vu, the kind that tickled your curiosity and teased your memory. This felt like he’d just been shot down by the déjà vu death star.

  “I . . . Oh God, I’m so sorry. I called for you but—”

  “It’s okay.” Ash laughed uncomfortably. “But you do seem to have reliable timing.”

  Rowan shook her head and covered her face in her hands. “I didn’t think you were here. I just needed to get something out of my closet. I know this isn’t ideal. . . . You don’t have a lot of privacy—”

  “Rowan, it’s okay. Really.”

  She slowly let her hands fall away from her face. She smiled back at him tentatively, her sea-green eyes asking him a thousand questions of the heart.

  He wished he was the man who could answer them, but he knew he wasn’t.

  Rowan came to him, wrapped her small hand around his forearm, and popped up on her toes so that she could kiss him. She tasted like honey and sunshine, and Ash felt the ballast of guilt move to the pit of his stomach. He needed the kiss to go on and on but was relieved she ended it, returned her heels to the floor, and grinned at him.

  “Mind if I get something out of my closet real quick?”

  “Of course not.”

  He knew the duffel bag was on the bed, his clothes set out to wear on the boat. Of course she would notice. Rowan walked right past the incriminating evidence to the walk-in closet, and Ash tried to block her view of the bed by standing in the closet doorway.

  Rowan began riffling through hangers, looking for something specific.

  “That’s beautiful music. I think I recognize his voice—who is it?”

  “Ray LaMontagne.”

  “Oh, that’s right! I saw him at a club in New York a couple years ago. What a wonderful show.”

  Ash couldn’t hide the fact that he was surprised she knew his music. Ray LaMontagne wasn’t exactly a superstar.

  “You might want to wear something a little less casual,” Rowan said, still focused on the contents of her closet. “It’s not dressy by any means, but just something a little nicer than that.”

  “You mean I can’t wear my towel?”

  Rowan found what she was looking for. She tugged a white dress from a hanger and draped it over her arm, her smile teasing. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the towel. You could wear a towel around me any day. But I was referring to the swim trunks and T-shirt I saw laid out on the bed.”

  “Ah.”

  “So I’ll see you on the beach at six?” Her gaze moved from his face to his chest. She placed her warm palm on his breastbone.

  It was such an innocent question. This beautiful and sweet woman had no idea what a bastard he was and how the heart hidden below that breastbone was cracking from sorrow.

  He kissed her forehead, then tapped her on her perfect bottom. “I look forward to seeing you in that dress.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows at him and left a tender kiss on his chest. “See ya around, Ashton Louis Wallace the third.”

  Ash watched Rowan bound down the stairs, knowing that would be the last time he’d ever see her. The kiss she’d pressed to his damp skin would be the last time he felt the touch of her lips.

  The bottom fell out of his heart.

  * * *

  Ash was late. Which was not a huge deal, since there was no drop-dead start time to the clambake and people straggled in throughout the night. What bothered her was that he’d promised to meet her at six. It was now six twenty. And that meant he hadn’t kept his promise.

  Rowan fiddled with the full skirt of her dress, trying to ignore the tide of dread now rising up from her belly, into her throat, threatening to choke her.

  “Hey, hey, pretty lady.” Rowan felt a man’s kiss on her cheek and turned to see Nat Ravelle, Annie’s fiancé. He was debonair in a pair of ivory linen trousers and a white linen shirt. Annie was at his side, and she looked so beautiful that Rowan gasped. Of course, Annie had never been anything but lovely, with all that long blond hair, expressive blue eyes, and a killer body, but lately she’d looked like she was lit up from the inside. Love had made her nothing less than magnificent.

  “So? Where’s Poseidon?”

  Rowan shrugged, doing her best imitation of laid-back. “Running a little late.”

  It was lightning fast, but Rowan saw the worry flash in Annie’s eyes.

  “Would you ladies like me to get you something to drink?” Nat was either psychic or a hopeless gentleman. Rowan suspected it was both.

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  He wandered off toward the beer tent, and Annie took Rowan by the hand.

  “Okay. First off, you look incredible. I love your hair pulled up like that.”

  Rowan managed a smile. “Thanks.”

  “And second off, where the hell is he? Did you go to the carriage house to look for him?”

  She shook her head.

  “Oh hell.”

  Rowan would not cry. She would not cry.

  “That’s it. Be right back. Gotta go kick some Greek god ass.”

  She grabbed Annie’s arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure there’s a good reason he’s running late. Maybe he got a call or something.”

  Her friend didn’t seem convinced.

  “I just saw him an hour ago and everything was fine. He’ll be here, Annie. I know it. I trust him.”

  * * *

  Exactly why he stood in front of a fifteen-foot-high half-naked bronze mermaid was a mystery to him. It was like he’d arrived here on autopilot. Ash remembered leaving the carriage house and walking up the lawn and out the Safe Haven gates. He remembered walking the half mile down Shoreline Road. Though he’d had no intention of stopping in town square on his way to the Provenance, his subconscious apparently had other ideas.

  He watched, mesmerized, as plumes of water danced along the fountain’s circular base. They created a playful, see-through curtain that seemed to lift the mermaid toward the sky. Ash looked up and up . . .

  This really was one very saucy female.

  He remembered reading an article a few years back that analyzed the body measurements of a Barbie doll. Scientists determined that if good old Barb were human, the size of her breasts would make her freakishly top-heavy, her skinny waist would be unable to accommodate ribs or internal organs, and her toothpick legs would be incapable of holding her upright. At the time, Ash thought the judgment was pretty harsh. But looking at this bronze spectacle of the female form towering over him, he understood the point those researchers were trying to make. The Bayberry Island mermaid was all woman—well, except for the fish tail, of course. She was round and soft in all the right plac
es, with a set of real hips and some spectacular cleavage. She held herself with purpose. Her lips were full and sensual, with just a hint of attitude, like maybe she knew something her observer didn’t. The flowing hair, the graceful turn of her neck, and the regal set of her shoulders led Ash to imagine that this mermaid was fully aware of how hot she was. Surprisingly, it was immaterial to her. Her strength didn’t come from her outer beauty. In fact, it was the opposite—her beauty came from her inner strength.

  Ash adjusted the duffel on his shoulder and laughed at himself. If he were having a mind meld with a bronze mermaid, it was time to head out. He would remember this little detour onto Mermaid Island forever, but it wasn’t his home. He didn’t belong here.

  He didn’t belong anywhere.

  Ash reached up, held the mermaid’s graceful hand in his own, and kissed it. “It’s been real.”

  He turned away. He took three steps. On the fourth, his foot crossed over the circle of inlaid stone around the fountain. And that’s when Ash heard it.

  You belong with her.

  He didn’t dare breathe. Where had that voice come from? Ever so carefully, he pulled his foot back inside the circle, returned it to the ground, and swiveled his head around, searching for the person who’d just spoken to him.

  He saw a group of teenagers with skateboards by the hedges, smoking and trying to look cool. There were a few families with ice-cream cones. He saw some Chinese tourists taking photos at the fountain. But nowhere did Ash see the source of that voice.

  Turn back.

  His spine stiffened. This was nuts. He was hearing things. He was suddenly dizzy. Trying his best not to attract any attention to himself, Ash staggered toward an unoccupied concrete bench at the edge of town square. By the time he sat down, his legs felt as useless as Barbie’s.

  Ash let his head fall into his hands as a series of scenes began to unfold in his mind’s eye, out of order and heading in no particular direction. Rowan naked and wet underneath him, tears streaming down her face; the laser of sunlight that tracked him in the storm; his mother’s loving face; a slate roof; the sight of Haven Cove framed by the sea; the sound of Brian’s laughter; “an imitation human being.”