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He’d tossed the unopened invitation onto his desktop as soon as it arrived, knowing from the off-white envelope with streamers embossed on the front what it was. “I’m not sure I’ll be here that long.” Didn’t want to be here that long was more to the point.
“I figured,” she said and sounded almost happy about it. That rankled even more. “With your big life in Cincinnati. Must be hard to get away at all.”
“It is. And I don’t have a ‘big life’ down south. It’s just a life.” Emmett picked at a bit of loose wood around one of the windowpanes and it flaked off easily. Rotten. Great. He made another notation on his clipboard and moved to the next window. “I’m here to renovate my dad’s house. He’s selling and moving to a place in Cincinnati.”
“Gib’s moving? Why? He loves the island.”
Emmett wasn’t sure how to answer that. His father hadn’t said he couldn’t tell anyone about his illness. But then, he’d also avoided leaving the house today when, in the past, he’d have been all over a trip to the mainland. Last night, he’d been upset that he lost himself for a while, and Emmett had to believe that was part of the reason. He didn’t want to lose himself in front of his friends. “He wants easier winters. Besides, the old place is too big for one person.”
“Oh. It looked, uh—”
“Like we’re thinking about torching it for the insurance money?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“He’s getting older. It’s harder to keep everything up.”
Jaime followed him as he tested the walls and floor. They started up the back stairs and he pointed to a loose board before Jaime tripped over it. She wobbled and he took her hand, the contact heating his skin.
“Emmett—”
“Don’t.” There was a look in her eyes that he remembered. A look that said she was going to say something he didn’t want to hear. Something he couldn’t hear. And it had to be about one of two things: prom night or Pittsburgh.
In either case, Emmett didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want her to tell him she was okay or that those events didn’t matter. They did. For better or worse leaving Jaime in Pittsburgh and then again on the island, changed his life.
They reached the summit and he released her hand. Emmett looked around. Not bad. The old wood floors were scarred but solid, and though the ceiling had a lot of water damage, neither the ceiling nor the floors below the water spots were warped. He’d need a ladder and an inspection of the outside roof to be positive.
“I just wanted to say—”
Emmett cut her off. “This isn’t as bad as I thought.” He pretended to push against the wall nearest him. Then continued down the hall, away from Jaime and the memories he wished he could forget.
She followed. “Can it be fixed?”
“Anything can be fixed with the right budget.” He knelt to pick at a corner floorboard that showed a slight upturn. He pulled it away from the wall. No surface mold—that was a good sign. Jaime stepped to the wall. Her legs were as slender as ever. Not such a good thing, he decided as his heart pounded in his chest.
“We don’t have a huge budget.”
“There are other ways. Historical markers. Grants.”
“We’re talking about six weeks.”
“Obviously the entire building won’t be restored within six weeks, but you could get the main floor ready, repair the roof. The rest could be completed over time.” He stood and checked a few more things off the list on his clipboard.
“Emmett, why are you here?” She put her hands on his shoulders and the contact seemed to burn along his nerves. That was silly. He and Jaime had paired off all those years ago but he’d never burned when she’d touched him. She turned him to face her. “Why now?”
“I told you, to fix up Dad’s house and move him to Cincinnati.” His voice sounded rough even to his ears. Emmett swallowed.
“I’m sure you could hire a crew to paint the old house.”
True, but he’d lost enough time with his father. Only, he couldn’t tell Jaime that until he knew his father was okay with news of his condition being public knowledge.
“It’s time.” That was the best answer he could come up with, and he could tell from the look on her face that it wasn’t enough for Jaime.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_e7ae9738-ed12-552c-b53a-ab403dccb985)
JAIME WANTED TO press him. There had to be more to his showing up out of the blue than a simple move to Cincinnati.
But this Emmett was different from the boy she remembered, and not just in the way he looked. There was a quietness about him that had changed from the exuberant, prankster guy she’d loved all those years ago. And, obviously since her hand still burned from his light touch on the stairway, she was even more attracted to New Emmett than she had been to Old Emmett. She’d kissed him a million times. Held his hand. Made out in the back of Gibson’s old Pontiac hundreds of times and each time it had been simple to stop. Take a moment and keep things under control.
She pulled her hands to her sides and then shoved them into the pockets of her khakis. Not once in all the time they’d dated before had she felt such a strong jolt of attraction for him.
“I saw your television show once.” Or maybe a thousand times, she’d stopped counting after having a particularly vivid dream involving Emmett wearing nothing except his construction belt, a giant bed and her without the scars on her torso.
“I heard you’re working at the vineyard. What happened to becoming a female Indiana Jones?”
“I didn’t go.”
“Because of Pittsburgh.” His voice was flat. Emmett and Gibson had been the most vocal of the people encouraging her to pursue archaeology. Well, at least he could name the city. Most people trailed off before saying the name, looking away from—or worse, looking through her.
She offered him a lopsided smile. “Actually no, although a lot of people think that. Having an interest in old things doesn’t mean I’d make a good dirt digger.”
“Most people would jump at the chance to be a famous archaeologist.”
“I’m not most people.” And she didn’t want to talk about herself. She’d decided a long time ago what she wanted, and what she wanted was to live on the island.
She started down the stairs and Emmett followed.
“No, you’re not.”
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”
He studied her for a long moment and Jaime thought he would say “insult.” Instead he said, “Compliment. And here’s another. You’re just as pretty as you were in high school.”
Heat rose in her cheeks, but Jaime was determined to keep this meeting at a professional level. She didn’t need empty compliments from Emmett; she needed his help to save the school. “So, your final verdict is that this place can be saved?”
Emmett stopped at the landing and looked around, as if he saw more than the roof and floorboards.
Sometimes when Jaime looked into a glass of wine she thought she could taste hints of the individual grapes. What did he see when he looked at old buildings like this?
“I’d say it can be saved.”
“In time for the reunion? Because the picnic shelters are all reserved and we’re not stringing up lights along the beach and I refuse to decorate the high school gym one more time.”
“There’s always the winery,” he said, and there was a twinkle in his blue eyes, as if he already knew Tom had nixed that idea.
“You and Jason and Homecoming Week.”
“He’s still pissy about rerouting a few casks?”
“‘Pissy’ almost covers it.” Jaime smiled as she put her hand on the railing but it wobbled. She pulled back.
“This big issue I see is the roof.” Emmett twisted his mouth to the side. “Yeah, I’d say you could have the main floor cleaned up and party-ready in time for the reunion, assuming I don’t find more issues in the basement than I’ve seen up here.”
“More issues?”
“Cracked foundation. Water. That kind of thing.”
Back to the project, Jaime.
“If you’ll give me your evaluation, I’ll take it to the trustees this afternoon.” She started back down the stairs but tripped over one of the bad steps and fell against the rickety railing. It held, but just barely.
Emmett’s hands were firm as he steadied her. The ten feet between her position on the step and the ground floor seemed to yo-yo in front of her, making her stomach feel weak. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing.
“You’re okay.” His voice was soft against her hair, his strong hands reassuring against her upper arms.
“Forgot about that step,” she said, her voice a hair higher than normal. Jaime cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I’m okay.” She looked into his blue eyes, mere inches from hers, and felt lost. Pulled back to a time when it was normal to leave her hand in his. Breathing ragged, she tried to get a grip because although this was Emmett, he wasn’t the boy she’d known. Maybe the boy she remembered had never existed.
“Do you remember when we broke in here New Year’s Eve? Maureen and Clancy, Jason and Rebecca. Clancy brought leftovers from the diner. Maureen snatched a bottle of schnapps from her dad’s liquor cabinet.”
His voice tickled over her nerve endings and Jaime couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face.
They’d laughed and told stories and danced to the tinny music from Emmett’s iPod speaker. Fallen asleep sometime after midnight, huddled together in sleeping bags until the slamming of a car door had woken them. One of her father’s patrol officers nearly had caught them, but Emmett had distracted him while the rest of them had fled out the back door.
“You were assigned twenty hours of public service picking up litter at the beach.”
“God, it was cold that winter. I nearly got frostbite keeping the beach clear.” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “We had some good times.” Was that a hint of sadness or just nostalgia?
And if it was sadness, why? Sad because of the way he’d left? Sad because of what had happened that night? Sad that he’d left and the talk had started with the not-so covert looks?
She straightened her shoulders and pretended nothing had happened at all.
“What made you choose Cincinnati?” She would not ask why he left. She didn’t need to know. Wanted to know, yes, but that was different. So focus on the present, not the past.
Emmett’s mouth twisted to the side and he fixed his gaze somewhere over her shoulder. “I needed to get away. Cincinnati was away, but it was familiar.”
“Away from what?” From her?
“Just...away.” His expression closed off and, just like that, the glimpse of the Emmett she’d known was gone.
He stepped around her, but kept his grip strong against her hand, helping her down the stairwell. Jaime tried hard to stay focused on the renovations and not the feel of his callused hand against her smooth palm. It wasn’t so bad this time. The burn was just a mild heating. See, she was already getting used to Emmett being back on the island.
This wouldn’t be hard. Not at all.
That moment was just a moment. A split second in time that didn’t mean anything. Not really. Her life was here, on Gulliver. His wasn’t. The words he hadn’t said, “away from you,” echoed in her mind.
It didn’t hurt that she was the reason he’d left, she told herself, but still she rubbed the heel of her hand against her chest. Felt the scar through the thin fabric of her high-necked dress. She put a smile into her voice. “And now you’re back because...?”
“Sell Dad’s place. Get him moved to Cincinnati.” They reached the bottom step and he released her hand as if it burned him. He also wouldn’t look directly at her and that annoyed Jaime. She was the one who’d had to face the worried looks, to pretend she hadn’t heard the abruptly stopped conversations.
“Gibson will be happier here. If he wanted to move, he’d have done it after he retired from the school. Or after your mother died. He has friends here. You know how islanders take care of their own.”
His full lips formed a hard line for a moment before he said, “It’s for the best that he comes to Cincinnati.”
“So, you wanted off the island and you left. Now you’re dragging your father off the island, too? What good will that do?”
Emmett shook his head, but he didn’t answer. A moment later he handed her the paper with his notes and estimated costs for the main floor renovation.
“It was good to see you, Jaime.” Finally, he looked at her, but it was as if he were a stranger. His blue eyes were flat, remote. Businesslike.
“It was good to see you, too.” She lied. It hadn’t been good to see him. All sorts of questions tumbled around in her mind, demanding answers he couldn’t or wouldn’t share. Why he left...why he was back...and what those answers meant for her. She liked her life, damn it, she didn’t need to be on the arm of Emmett Deal to be complete. Emmett coming back shouldn’t impact her at all. So why let it?
“Maybe we’ll have lunch before you leave.” She didn’t want to, but it was the polite thing to say. After all, he’d taken time away from his house project to give her an estimate on the school, and it was impossible to avoid anyone on Gulliver for long. Besides, avoiding Emmett would encourage the gossips more than being seen with him.
He nodded and stuck his pencil under the clip on his board. “Maybe.”
He put his hand at the small of her back as they started for the front door and a little jolt of electricity sped along her spine.
She wished she could blame the singe on faulty wiring.
* * *
EMMETT CLOSED THE front door of his childhood home and leaned against it for a second, trying to pretend none of that had just happened. He hadn’t taken Jaime’s hand. Hadn’t nearly told her he’d left her alone all those years ago because he’d blamed himself for Pittsburgh. Hadn’t thought, at least three different times, that he’d like to know if she tasted different now than she had back then.
The feel of her smooth palm against his and the softness of her arms refused to let him pretend.
He couldn’t get involved with Jaime. Not now and not ever. His actions all those years ago had imploded her life. She could say all she wanted that she’d never wanted to be an archaeologist, and maybe she hadn’t. What she had wanted was to leave Gulliver. To travel and see the world. She’d known the ferry schedule by heart; collected hotel pamphlets on vacations. He’d given her a world atlas for Valentine’s Day, for goodness’ sake, and she’d glowed as if he’d given her diamonds. Jaime had wanted to experience world cultures and Emmett had taken that from her with one careless action.
He blew out a breath and pushed off the door. He couldn’t change what he’d done or how that had affected her. How all the looks and hastily stopped conversations had changed her. He’d seen it happening and hadn’t been able to stop it. Then he’d actually overheard one of those hushed conversations and realized everyone had been talking about him. What a bad influence he was on her...how it was his fault. He’d already blamed himself but knowing that his presence on the island had kept people talking and was beating her down had been more than he could take. He’d left, hoping that with him gone the talk would die down and Jaime could get her life back on track.
And obviously failed her all over again.
She didn’t seem to need him now, at least not today. Yesterday...? Maybe he had wanted her to be vulnerable. In need.
Wasn’t that what Kasey had insisted when she’d walked out just before Christmas? That he only wanted to fix things for her; that he didn’t want to really know her. Wasn’t knowing a person about helping them? He didn’t like the word fix. He fixed houses. He had no illusions about his ability to fix people. But helping? He could help.
He’d met Kasey on a job; a rehab in a bad neighborhood just outside downtown Cincinnati. They’d had dinner and then drinks and, before he knew it, he was rewiring her house. When she’d told him about her awful boss, Emmett had offered her a job doing some accounting for his construction company. They’d been comfortable.
He’d chalked up her complaints as excuses to quit the job and their relationship, but now...
Did he have some kind of latent hero complex about women?
Emmett shook off the question. He loved women; he didn’t feel superior to them. Helping people out was part of his DNA. Bottom line: he was hardwired to solve problems. Jaime had a problem, he offered his advice. Actually getting the old school renovated was completely in her court. Nothing he could or would do about it.
The image she’d painted when they’d toured the school shimmered back into his mind. It would be pretty, though. A draw to tourists; a place to instill pride in the locals. Maybe there was one more thing he could do.
* * *
JAIME TAPPED HER foot against the carpeted floor outside Tom’s office at the winery and watched the clock tick toward three. The registrar’s office had emailed after lunch with instructions to finish the paperwork; they seemed excited for the project. After Google-searching construction firms and calling everyone listed on the search results, though, she was no closer to finding a crew that could start work next week. Much less one that would finish the job in time for the reunion.
