Oh shit. Ash couldn’t lie—the idea of letting another falsehood escape his lips in Rowan’s company made him nauseated. It would be inexcusable. He knew that once tomorrow had come and gone and his plan had unfolded, she would know everything. Rowan would know of his original intentions and how she had changed his mind. She would hear of his alternate plan for property along the cove. He could tell her the depth of his feelings and even admit that he’d read every one of Annie’s mermaid erotica novels—for research purposes, of course.
“I confess.” Ash shrugged. “I told you I went to her shop, right?”
“Oh.” Rowan started walking again, her smile back in place. “For a minute there I thought you were holding out on me.”
“Ha.”
“So a costume night would not be out of the question, then?”
Ash looked at the playful expression in her eyes and knew that she truly enjoyed messing with him almost as much as he enjoyed messing with her. “Let’s work up to it, all right? Maybe we can start small, like with you wearing your parade getup. That was hot.”
“And you? What would you be wearing?”
“Not a fucking thing.”
Rowan laughed, tugging him closer for a moment before she released him with a sigh. “Well, this is Mona’s house. She’s been living here by herself since she and Dad separated.”
Rowan pointed toward a cute one-story cedar-shingle home surrounded by neatly trimmed boxwoods and an outrageous variety of roses. The front door was painted cherry red and featured an antique wrought-iron knocker. The effect was charming, and Ash bet that with a little elbow grease, Hubie Krank’s place could look just as pretty.
“In all seriousness, there is one thing you need to know about tonight, okay?” Rowan looked up at him from under her lashes, sadness suddenly in her expression. “Duncan not being here is probably going to make everyone a little bummed out. He’s missed only one cookout, and that was while he was in basic training. So I know we will all feel that something is missing. Ma’s probably going to be extremely upset that he’s not here, though she’ll try to cover it up.”
Ash had never heard Rowan use the word Ma. It had always been my mother or Mona. It revealed a tenderness he hadn’t seen before, and it touched him. He knew the two of them had long-standing issues that had nothing to do with his arrival on the island, but he worried that he’d contributed to their distance. Maybe tomorrow’s revelations would help mend the relationship.
Ash opened the wobbly front gate for Rowan and placed his free hand at the small of her back. It gave him a thrill he knew he’d never tire of.
Rowan looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Also, Dad won’t show up until Clancy’s here—they have an arrangement. My father can’t handle a family thing without male backup.”
“Gotcha.”
“This way, around the side.”
He followed Rowan, and up close like this he saw that the paint along the trim of the cottage was peeling, and storm shutter hinges were rusted through. Like most everything else on Bayberry Island, what appeared charming from a distance showed signs of neglect upon closer inspection. He hoped that within a couple years all that would be different.
They crossed beneath a weather-beaten wooden arbor heavy with roses and entered Mona’s backyard. They were the first to arrive. Ash noticed that the grass was neatly trimmed, which was probably Clancy’s doing, and under a large sycamore, Mona had set out a table fit for a Martha Stewart Living photo shoot. It was a long wooden table draped in a crisp white linen tablecloth and set with china and crystal. Ash counted seven places, and he made a quick calculation in his head—Mona, Frasier, Clancy, Annie, Nat, Rowan, and himself. In the middle of the table was a large centerpiece of wildflowers, cattails, and seashells. There wasn’t a mermaid tail in sight.
On one side of the yard was a large charcoal grill already heating up. Off to the other side, an assortment of mismatched wooden and plastic lawn chairs and small tables were arranged around a fire pit already set for a bonfire.
“Oh! Hello!” Mona looked up, her eyes immediately filled with happiness. “So glad you’re here!” She walked toward them, arms outstretched.
“Hi, Ma. It looks really pretty.” Rowan met her mother and gave her a hug. It wasn’t particularly warm, but at least she’d been willing to go there.
“You look lovely, honey.” Mona’s eyes scanned Rowan’s blue polka-dot sundress and smiled. “You always look lovely.”
She was right about that.
“Well, thanks.” Rowan turned toward Ash, and he knew it was his turn to greet Mona.
“Thank you so much for the invitation,” he said, giving her a hug as well. He embraced her an extra couple of seconds, so that she knew it was more than just for show. “Is there a cooler I can put this in? Or the refrigerator?”
“Oh, how thoughtful of you, Ashton!” She accepted the wine and smiled as she read the label. “This will go perfectly with the menu.”
“I’m glad.”
“I bet Boston Brahmins such as yourself know a thing or two about fine wine. Am I right?”
He realized Mona only wanted to make pleasant conversation, but he couldn’t help but feel the sting of that barb. Mona’s battle over the development had left her bitter about money, and Ash reminded himself that it had nothing to do with him. He prayed his news tomorrow would be a balm for all that bitterness.
Mona shook her head and closed her eyes for an instant. “I’m sorry. That was an awful thing to say. Please forgive me.”
“It’s okay.” Ash gave her a genuine smile and wagged his eyebrows. “I do know a lot about fine wine, actually.”
Mona laughed, then gave him another hug. “Well, you two make yourselves comfortable. Be right back.” They watched Mona go into the back door.
“Sorry.” Rowan crossed her arms under her breasts. “Sometimes it seems that it’s always one step forward and three back with her.”
“Sweetheart. It’s not a big deal.” He gathered her in his arms and counted in his head. One, two, three, four . . . until Rowan let her stiff arms relax and she leaned into him.
She lifted her eyes to his. “You have some kind of magical power over me, Ash.”
“Then we’re even.” He kissed her. It was true. Even in that gentle kiss, there was magic.
“Break it up!”
Ash pulled away to see Nat and Annie stroll arm in arm into the backyard. Nat looked pleased with his sense of humor. Annie looked beautiful and happy. Mona came out of the back door, and there were more hugs all around, while Nat handed over a dish that Mona immediately set on the table. Soon, everyone was seated with a glass of wine or beer.
“Is Clancy going to be late?”
Mona shrugged at Rowan’s question. “He hasn’t called. I really don’t know.”
Ash was facing away from the backyard entrance, so when he noticed Rowan bristle, he had no idea what the problem was. He turned to see Frasier strolling their way, without Clancy serving as buffer. There was something more devilish than usual in his expression.
“Jeesh,” Rowan whispered. “He’s getting brazen.”
Mona saw her husband and her spine went rigid.
Everyone stood up. Rowan decided to step in between her parents. “Is Clancy on his way, Dad?”
“Yep. Coming now.”
Mona turned away from Frasier and began fiddling with the table. Just then Ash heard the sound of what was probably Clancy’s police Jeep pull up to the front of the house. Within seconds, he’d popped around to the side yard.
“Hey, everybody.” Clancy stopped under the arbor and shoved his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers. “Ma, I decided to bring someone. Is that okay?”
Mona didn’t bother turning around. “Of course, honey. Anyone is welcome.”
“Well, if you say so.” Clancy looked over his shoulder. “Come on! Hurry your ugly ass up!”
“Clancy!” Mona spun around. It was obvious she planned to chastise h
er son for his spectacularly bad manners. Instead, she let out a shriek of joy and slapped her hands over her face.
It was Duncan.
Rowan and Annie screamed, too. Mona began sobbing. Duncan made his way over to his mother and picked her up, hugging her tight. Then he draped his free arm around Rowan and kissed her cheek. Annie got the treatment next. Just then, Ash’s eyes met Nat’s, and Ravelle made his way over to stand next to Ash, giving everyone a chance to revel in their reunion.
“Damn,” Nat mumbled to Ash. “I could’ve been a Navy SEAL, but getting into film school seemed like more of a challenge.”
Ash laughed, noticing how Frasier hung back from everyone else, too, arms crossed over his chest as he smiled proudly. So that’s how it happened—Frasier and Clancy had probably picked up Duncan at the ferry and come straight to the house. The only question was how long they’d known he was coming.
Duncan stared at Ash over the top of Rowan’s head, his pale blue eyes flashing a warning. Obviously, Clancy and Frasier had filled him in about his budding relationship with Rowan on the ride over. Great, Ash thought. Another Flynn male to bash horns with. Duncan brought his overwhelmed mother with him, still tucked under his arm, as he moved toward Nat. He held out his hand.
“You must be Nathaniel Ravelle. I’ve heard all about you. Duncan Flynn.”
“Call me Nat. Pleasure to finally meet you.”
Duncan turned his attention to Ash. The eldest Flynn child was Ash’s height, but had to outweigh him by a good thirty pounds of concrete, every pound of which had come courtesy of the US Navy SEAL program, no doubt. Ash braced himself for the intentional name-butchering.
“Ash.” Duncan said this with a nod of his head and a faint smile. “How are you, man?”
“Hey, Duncan. I’m great, thanks. Very glad you could make it home.” They shook hands amicably. And that was it. Not a single “Ashley” was hurled his way.
Annie and Rowan raced to set another place at the table, and the party began.
The food was outstanding. Mona had prepared a fish soup better than anything Ash had tasted outside of Barcelona—clams, mussels, prawns, and flaky hunks of cod, all floating in a perfectly seasoned fish stock. There was homemade bread, roasted potatoes, lamb, salmon, spinach salad, and a hot rice pudding with salted caramel sauce for dessert. The wine and beer flowed. Frasier and Mona got along fine, and Ash watched them exchange more than one glance of relief during the meal. Duncan coming home had changed everything.
After dinner the group moved to the fire pit, and Ash was given the honors to light the bonfire. For at least two more hours, they sat around talking and laughing under a canopy of stars. Duncan regaled everyone with stories of his latest adventures, taking care to gloss over most of the violence and details of geography and operations. And never once did the topic of the Mermaid Island Resort interfere with the family’s time together. For that, Ash was grateful.
Many times that night, Rowan had offered her hand to him and he’d taken it, pleased that she was so comfortable. Once, she even gave him a kiss that pushed the limits of what might be considered an innocent peck. No one seemed to care.
At the end of the evening, they said their good nights and walked back to the Safe Haven, once again hand in hand. Without even discussing it, they ended up in the carriage house together, and after they made sweet and passionate love, Rowan began to fall asleep in his arms.
“Did you set your alarm?”
She grunted. “Ugh. Yes, unfortunately.”
“I promise I’ll make sure you get there on time.”
“Thank you, Ash.” She was asleep almost before the words left her lips.
He wished he could follow her, but his mind was too preoccupied for sleep.
Ash had felt his world expand tonight. He had been welcomed into a family circle, where hurt, love, and laughter coexisted. The Flynns were not a fairy-tale family. They were real. That meant that the warmth he’d felt from them could be trusted as real, too. He couldn’t remember a night when he’d felt so filled up, so complete. And yet . . .
The hurdles he had to clear were huge, and there were no guarantees that everything would be settled by this time tomorrow night.
He’d arranged to take James and the Oceanaire team on a tour of the island immediately after tomorrow’s sail. In his best-outcome fantasy, Rowan would come along, helping him convince the foundation that Bayberry was their new home. And after the tour, everyone would walk into the landowner’s coalition meeting and begin negotiations.
More important, he hoped that by this time tomorrow he and Rowan would have started building something good and solid together, with no secrets between them.
But that was up to her. Rowan had to be willing to forgive him for how he’d misled her in the beginning. She had to be willing to trust him after he’d shown that he wasn’t always trustworthy. And that was an awful lot to ask of anyone, especially a woman whose last encounter with a dishonest man had ended in disaster.
As Ash kissed her hair, inhaling her sweet and spicy scent, he felt his chest tighten with a sense of dread. Now that he’d found Rowan and had come to love her, he couldn’t imagine how painful it would be if she were unable to give him another chance. Though he was old pals with loss, grief, and heartache, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive losing Rowan. Because unlike every other loss in his life, he would have brought this one upon himself.
Ash put his lips against her temple. He whispered, “I love you, Miss Flynn,” and prepared to settle in for a long, restless night.
Chapter Eighteen
Kathryn Hilsom hadn’t planned on the ferry. She hadn’t done a ferry since her family took one from the Cape to Martha’s Vineyard when she was a child, and she’d spent the entire ride sharing her fast food lunch with the fish.
She wasn’t faring much better now.
The J-R private jet had arrived on the Vineyard without incident, but the helicopter they’d reserved had inexplicably been rented out to another group, already en route to Bayberry. So here she was, on a smelly, loud, rumbling, nauseating old ferry, her head feeling as if it were a basketball being pummeled into a hard gymnasium floor.
Once again, she grabbed the safety rail and retched.
“Can I get you anything? A snack?”
She held her hand up and back as she dry-heaved, a warning to stay away. She planned to fire whichever idiotic team member had decided this would be the perfect time to review food and beverage options with her. She opened one eye. It was Brenda Paulson. Of course it was. Unbelievable.
“I’m sorry to disturb you.” Brenda shrugged as she backed away, and through the narrow slit of one eye, Kathryn watched her join the rest of the J-R team seated inside the passenger cabin.
She managed to raise her head enough to search for the horizon line. Kathryn had read somewhere that if you could keep your focus there, your chances of getting ill were greatly reduced.
Or not.
She retched over the railing again, wondering how she was supposed to stand in front of thirty-seven property owners all rainbows and sunshine when she felt like a shit sandwich.
* * *
Rowan was a little late, but she knew Ash wouldn’t leave without her. She approached the marine yard in time to see Deacon Sully leaving Ash’s boat.
“Hey, Sully!”
His head snapped up, and he looked terrified to encounter her. Of course, Sully had never been all that comfortable with people, and women in particular, so his reaction wasn’t surprising. How he’d ever been named a deacon in the First Presbyterian Church was something she’d never understood.
“Hello, Rowan.” He looked down at his dirty boat shoes.
She stopped. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine.”
“How’s Ash’s boat coming along?”
He glanced up again, a wary expression in his eyes. “Why do you ask? Do you think I took too long on purpose to fix it?”
Rowan tipped her hea
d and studied him. On an island full of odd birds, Sully was one of the oddest bird-brains there was. “I don’t think I understand. Why would I think you would do that?”
“No reason. Have a nice sail. I guess I’ll be seeing you later this afternoon along with everyone else, right?”
“Uh. Sure.” She watched him scamper away to the safety of his office shack, giving herself an extra moment to shake off the crazy before she continued on to the boat slip. She had a feeling Sully didn’t mean he’d see her when she returned from the sail, but Rowan didn’t have time to try to decipher his ramblings.
When she didn’t see Ash on deck, Rowan poked her head across the gangway. “Permission to come aboard?”
She heard Ash clamber up the companionway steps. He poked his head out and smiled. “Of course!”
Rowan stepped onto the deck of the Provenance. The last time she’d been here was Sunday, when she and Ash sat on the dock to eat ice cream. Though he’d told her all about his vintage sailboat, he hadn’t invited her on board. He hadn’t been comfortable enough with her at that point, she supposed. Sometimes it amazed her that less than a week had gone by since he’d shown up in her life.
He joined her on deck, grasping her upper arms as he smiled down at her. “Permission to kiss the first mate?”
Rowan giggled. “Of course. Always.”
Oh, how she craved his kisses. It had been a whole three hours since she’d had one, and Rowan had to admit to herself that she’d gotten used to them. One of the things she planned on being brave enough to ask today was whether he still planned to leave now that his boat was repaired. She had a right to know, of course, but she still hadn’t convinced herself she was strong enough to hear his answer.
“Come on. Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be ready to go in just a few minutes.” He scanned her clothes, and she looked down at herself. She’d worn pretty standard sailing attire—a pair of white cotton shorts, a navy blue polo shirt, and a pair of water sandals.
“What?”
He got a sly grin on his face. “Nothing. You’re just so adorable.”