First Time in Forever Page 16

  Having finished the cookie, Lizzy slid off the chair and wandered after Cocoa, leaving Emily with Agnes.

  “Thank you for letting us borrow Cocoa.”

  “I call her my therapy dog because having her around makes everyone feel better.” Agnes tilted the bear toward the light and sewed, each stitch minute and carefully aligned. “Did she make Lizzy feel better? Ryan said she hasn’t been sleeping well.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Not the detail.” She glanced over the top of her glasses, and there was a sharpness to her gaze that hadn’t been dimmed by failing vision. “He told me you were looking after your niece.” She snipped the thread and handed the mended bear back to Emily. “It’s always challenging when life sends you a responsibility you weren’t expecting.”

  “It happened to you.”

  “Yes.” Agnes stared at the garden for a moment, a faraway expression on her face. Then she smiled. “Why don’t you make us both a cup of tea, and we’ll take it through to the living room. I love early summer, and I don’t want to waste a moment of the sunshine. I can’t sail any longer, but I love to watch the boats. Ryan is the same. It’s in his blood. His father spent every moment of his time on the water.”

  Suppressing an impulse to ask a million questions, Emily followed Agnes’s directions and made tea, added cookies to a plate and carried it all through to the living room at the front of the house.

  It was a room full of warmth and charm, flooded with natural light. A large bay window overlooked the sloping garden, and she could see a narrow path winding down to the small rocky cove below.

  “This house is perfect.”

  Agnes gestured to the window seat. “That’s my favorite spot. On a clear day you can see right across the bay to the mainland. Do you like sailing?”

  Emily put the tray down on the table. “I’ve always been afraid of the sea.” And under that quiet, sympathetic gaze it all came tumbling out, all of it, right up to the point where Ryan had kissed her.

  That small detail she omitted, although she knew that at some point she was going to have to think about it, to work out what to say next time their paths crossed.

  That time arrived sooner than expected. She turned her head to take another look at the view and saw him striding toward the house, talking on the phone. He took the steps two at a time and then paused, staring across the water as he continued the conversation.

  Agnes watched and then shook her head. “There are times when I could drop that phone into the cookie jar and put the lid on it. Technology has a lot to answer for. Still, I suppose it means he can join me for lunch occasionally and isn’t tied to his desk.”

  “Lunch? Oh, my goodness, I hadn’t realized it was so late.” Flustered by the knowledge that her next encounter with Ryan was going to be so soon, Emily scrambled to her feet. “We just called to drop off Cocoa. We’ve taken up too much of your time.”

  “The one thing I have far too much of is time, so someone taking some of it is my idea of a good turn. I enjoyed talking to you. I hope you’ll come again.”

  “We will. And thank you for mending Andrew.” Emily glanced out of the window again and saw that Ryan was standing with his back to them. Eyeing those broad, powerful shoulders, she wondered if she could make her escape out of the back door so she didn’t have to face him.

  The last time she’d seen him he’d—

  And she’d—

  Holy crap.

  Scrambling for her shoes and her purse, she called for Lizzy.

  “Is there a fire?” Agnes’s tone was mild. “I get the distinct impression you’re not happy to see my grandson.”

  “He’s been very kind, but he’s already done enough.”

  More than enough. He’d made her feel things she’d never felt before, and right now she wasn’t in the mood to confront that.

  “Kind?” Agnes looked at her curiously. “I’ve heard him described as selfish, ambitious, focused and damn nosy—most frequently by his youngest sister. Kind isn’t a word I hear too often.”

  She wasn’t sure what word she’d use to describe the man who had been ruthlessly focused on nothing but her pleasure the night before.

  Thinking about it made her cheeks heat, so that by the time Ryan strolled into the house, she looked as if she’d been sunbathing without protection.

  “Ryan.” Agnes brushed the crumbs from her lap. “You missed the cookies.”

  “My loss.” He stooped to kiss his grandmother on her cheek, and Emily felt her throat close as she witnessed the genuine affection between them.

  His childhood must have been hard and his loss overwhelming, but he’d grown up surrounded by this easy warmth and love.

  “Lizzy and I were just leaving.”

  He straightened, squeezed Agnes’s shoulder and turned to look at Emily. For a moment his gaze lingered on hers, and then he smiled. “I’ve rearranged my afternoon so I can take you out for lunch.”

  “Lizzy had a large breakfast, and—”

  “Alone.”

  “Alone?”

  The air was heated by a tension that was only present when he walked into a room.

  “Good idea. Everyone needs a little adult time.” Agnes was brisk. “Lizzy and I will sit here and sort through Rachel’s old books and toys. It’s a job I should have done a decade ago, but I’ve been putting it off.”

  Lizzy appeared in the doorway, Cocoa at her heels. “Can we play?”

  “With the toys? Of course. You will decide what we keep and what we give away. Do you like books?”

  Lizzy nodded slowly. “Emily has been reading to me.”

  “Good. Because I have more books than the library.”

  It was one thing to let Lizzy play in a different room, something else entirely to leave her alone with someone. Emily shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “She’s safe here with me.” Agnes spoke quietly. “We’re not going to leave the house.”

  Lizzy was holding Andrew tightly. “I’m not allowed to go to the beach.”

  Emily bit her lip. “Lizzy—”

  “I’m too old for the beach,” Agnes said calmly. “I’m too old to be brushing sand out of my shoes and out of the house. We are going to stay indoors and have fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of young company.”

  To refuse would be insulting to Agnes, but to accept would mean being alone with Ryan.

  “She isn’t used to strangers.” She realized how ridiculous that was as an excuse, when Lizzy had virtually been raised by strangers.

  Lizzy must have thought it, too, because she climbed onto the sofa next to Agnes. “I want to stay.”

  Deprived of excuses by the excuse herself, Emily gave a helpless shrug.

  “If you’re sure—”

  Agnes smiled. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more. Don’t rush. We’ll still be here when you get back, and nothing is going to happen.”

  Lizzy inched closer to Agnes. “Sometimes there are men with cameras.”

  Agnes’s mouth tightened. “Not on my property, pumpkin.”

  As she left the house, Emily felt Ryan’s hand on her back.

  “You told my grandmother the truth?”

  “Yes. Was that a mistake?”

  “No. And you have no reason to worry about her safety. If Puffin Island were ever invaded, Agnes would lead the defense. She raised two children of her own and then took on three grandchildren. Lizzy is in good hands.”

  She tried to ignore the warmth of his hand. Tried to forget how those hands had felt as they’d moved over her body. “Four. You’re forgetting to include yourself.”

  “I was part of the management team.” His smile made her heart beat faster.

  Her level of awareness was a constant hum beneath the anxiety about being responsible for Lizzy. “It’s the first time I’ve left her.”

  “I know.” He stopped and eased her to one side so that a family loaded down with beach gear could pass them. “Raisin
g a child isn’t about locking them away until they’re eighteen and then pushing them out of the door. It’s about giving them the tools to be independent. You should be pleased she was happy to stay with Agnes. She could have been clinging to you, especially after what happened. But we both know that this isn’t all about Lizzy. You’re looking for an excuse to avoid me.”

  “That isn’t true.”

  “No? So look me in the eye.”

  “We’re in public.”

  “I know and I promise not to rip your clothes off. Now look at me.”

  “What happens when people don’t do what you want them to do?”

  “If it’s something that matters to me, I’m persistent.”

  Was he implying that she mattered to him? The thought of it made the blood rush from her head. Normally she was a calm, logical thinker, but whenever she was this close to him her thoughts scattered. “You have to back off, Ryan. I can’t think when you say things like that.”

  “Good. You need to think less, not more.” He took her arm and guided her across the street away from the bustle of the busy harbor, to the relative calm of Main Street with its attractive buildings and colorful storefronts. They walked past several sea and surf shops and a few high-end boutiques catering to the wealthy set who had fallen in love with the beauty and relative seclusion of Puffin Island. Emily had seen the lavish summer houses dotted around the island, from colonial homes to elaborate beach houses. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, the place had an eclectic, cosmopolitan feel.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m going to buy you an ice cream.”

  “A—what?”

  “You said you’d eaten breakfast and didn’t want lunch, so I’ll buy you an ice cream instead. Simple pleasures. If you’re going to teach Lizzy how to live, you need to start doing it yourself. The next thing I’m going to do is get you out of those clothes.”

  She felt as if she were trapped in an airless room. “You mean you don’t want me to wear so much black?”

  He gave her a wicked smile. “Take it any way you like.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he pushed open the door of Summer Scoop and smiled at the young woman behind the counter. “Hi, Lisa, how’s it going?”

  “Good, thanks.” The woman used that overly bright tone that people adopted when things were totally crap.

  The place was empty.

  “I’m treating Emily to ice cream.” Ryan put his hand on the small of her back and eased her forward. “Something smooth, creamy and indulgent.”

  Lisa reached for the scoop. “Kirsti thinks there’s an ice cream for every mood. How would you describe your mood today, Emily?”

  She felt the pressure of Ryan’s hand on her back. The slow deliberate stroke of his palm through the thin fabric of her shirt.

  Was “sexually frustrated” a mood or a physical condition? She turned her head, saw the amused gleam in Ryan’s eyes and glared at him. “I can’t find the words to describe my mood.”

  “Then tell me your favorite flavor.”

  Trying to escape the dizzying, distracting stroke of his fingers, Emily stepped forward to examine the various options. “It all looks delicious. What do you recommend?” She was so hot she wanted to jump into the freezer with the ice cream.

  “Children love Banana Buttermilk, but for adult first-timers I usually recommend Blueberry Booster or Smuggler’s Tipple.”

  “Smuggler’s Tipple?”

  “Chocolate and rum.” Lisa picked up a small pot. “I can do you a small taster?”

  “No need. You said the word blueberry, so I’m sold.”

  Ryan chose Caramel Sea Salt. “Lisa moved here last summer from the mainland. She has six-year-old twins, Summer and Harry.”

  “Summer?” Emily glanced at the sign over the counter, but Lisa shook her head.

  “Just a coincidence. Would you believe that was the name of the place?”

  Ryan smiled. “Kirsti would say it was fate.”

  “Kirsti is an incurable optimist.” Lisa’s tired smile suggested she didn’t suffer from the same affliction. “We arrived here last Easter for a holiday. We needed a fresh start— Well, this seemed like a good place. We used to come in here for a treat, and one day the owner told us she was moving to Florida because she didn’t like the winters here. My daughter decided it was named for her.” She handed Emily a pretty waffle cone topped with creamy blueberry ice cream.

  “Owning an ice cream business must be every child’s dream.”

  “I wanted them to grow up surrounded by fresh air and a community of people who knew one another, so it seemed like my dream, too.”

  “But it isn’t?”

  Lisa kept her head down as she dipped into the salted caramel ice cream. Emily could tell she was reluctant to discuss her problems with a customer.

  “We’re fine. But if a few more tourists chose to buy our ice cream, I wouldn’t be sorry.” She handed the cone to Ryan. “Eat it in the sunshine because we all know that by tomorrow the sun might have gone into hiding. Enjoy.”

  Emily licked around the melting edges and moaned. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She saw Ryan’s gaze drop to her mouth. The heat in that look was enough to melt all the ice cream in Maine.

  “I agree with Lisa.” His voice was husky, and there was a shimmer of something dangerous in his eyes. “Let’s eat this outside.”

  Emily left the shop, flushed from head to toe. She kept her gaze fixed on the harbor. “Lisa seems worried.”

  “Does she? The moment you started licking that ice cream, my mind went blank. I was thinking about your tongue and all the things I could do with that ice cream. All of them involved your naked body.” He spoke in a low voice and then cleared his throat. “Good morning, Hilda. I didn’t see you there.”

  “Ryan. Emily. It’s a beautiful day. Have you caught the sun?” She peered at Emily. “You’re looking red. This may not be the Caribbean, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you can’t burn here. Water intensifies the sun’s rays.”

  “She has fair skin,” Ryan said smoothly, “but I’ll make sure she buys sunscreen later.” He turned and winked at Emily who knew she was the color of a tomato.

  “Sunscreen. Great idea.” She tried desperately to change the subject. “You were right about the ice cream, Hilda. It’s delicious.”

  “Best ice cream in Maine. Breaks my heart to see the girl struggling, especially with those two young children. In my opinion it was unfair of May Newton to sell her the business in the first place.” Hilda’s mouth flattened into a thin line of disapproval. “She knew it was in trouble. No one can make the place pay. It’s had five owners in as many years.”

  Emily frowned. “Five owners?”

  “You can’t sell enough ice cream in the summer months to keep a family going over the winter.” Hilda waved at someone on the other side of the harbor. “I’ll leave you two to finish your ice cream.” She moved away, and Emily sagged against the wall of the shop.

  “Do you think she knew?”

  “That I was talking dirty to you five seconds before she arrived? Probably. She doesn’t miss much.”

  “I’m going to have to move back to the mainland.”

  “Hilda had six children of her own, so I doubt that sex is a mystery to her. You have ice cream at the corner of your mouth. Am I allowed to lick it away?”

  “Only if you don’t mind being punched in public.”

  “I never object to a physical relationship, and it would do you good to rediscover some of those emotions you’ve been blocking out.” His eyes were hooded, his voice low, and she felt her insides melt faster than the ice cream.

  Flirting was as alien to her as all the other emotions swirling inside her. She tried desperately to change the subject. “Is it true that Summer Scoop is in trouble? That the place has had five owners in as many years?”

  His smile told her he knew exactly what she was doing. “Yeah, that part is true.”

&
nbsp; “So you think Lisa made a mistake buying the business?”

  He shrugged. “One person’s mistake is another person’s adventure.”

  She wondered if that comment was aimed at her. “But with two children to support, the stakes are different.”

  “True.” He finished his ice cream and licked his fingers. “Children have a habit of killing adventure.”

  She thought of the way Lisa had talked about her kids. Even in that brief encounter, she could see they were everything to her. “I think to some people kids are the adventure.”

  “They can also be too much reality.” His tone was dry. “How is your ice cream?”

  “The ice cream is delicious. The place should be packed.”

  “It should be, but it never is. I’m probably a tiny bit to blame for that. The Ocean Club pulls in a lot of casual lunchtime and evening business.”

  “But it’s a different market.”

  “Maybe, but we’re all competing for the same tourist dollars.”

  Emily glanced at the pretty ice cream parlor. “There should be room for both of you. Do you stock her product?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Do you serve her products at the Ocean Club?”

  “I have no idea. I don’t micromanage. I leave that to the chef. I think he makes his own.”

  “This ice cream is good. And it’s homemade on the island from the Warrens’ organic dairy herd.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It says so on the poster. Makes me imagine green pastures and everything healthy, which is ironic given the fat content.” She finished her ice cream regretfully. “That was good. It wouldn’t hurt you to put in an order.”

  “That’s what I have to do to gain approval?” There was humor in his eyes. “I’ll talk to Anton.”

  “Anton? Seriously?” Emily laughed. “You have a chef called Anton?”

  “I do.”

  “Is he French?”

  “No. Born and bred in Maine. The things he can do with a lobster would make you cry. Can those shoes of yours cope with a walk?” He glanced down at her feet. “There’s a view I want to show you.”

  And suddenly she realized that she was standing in the street, laughing with a man as if this was her life. As if she were free to follow her instincts and impulses.