Confessions of a Girl-Next-Door (9 page)

“Enough. But it’s not as bad as I feared it would be.” He gave her a quick summary of what his morning tour had turned up. “Besides, the twins will help. They’re good kids. Strong backs and a burning desire to make a buck. They have their eye on a car. A real babe magnet.”

Holly’s brow crinkled.

“A stylish ride sure to turn all the young girls’ heads,” Nate translated.

“You drove a station wagon, as I recall,” she said.

With the resort logo plastered on the doors. He grimaced. “That was the opposite of a babe magnet.”

“And yet you managed to turn my head.” She blushed after saying so and then changed the subject. “The twins seem nice.”

Nate nodded. “Although maybe not all that bright.” He gave her arm a poke. “They thought you looked like Lady Gaga.”

“Yes.” She shook her head. “I’m still trying to figure out if I should be flattered.”

She batted the lashes on the eyes the boys claimed were like the pop star’s. The gesture was silly, as silly as the boys’ assertion. But Nate’s mouth went dry as he stared at her. He’d always thought Holly’s eyes were one of her best features.

“They’re so damned blue,” he murmured.

“Pardon me?”

Nate fiddled with the clipboard he’d snagged from the front seat of his truck. He’d brought it with him mostly to keep his hands occupied. Wouldn’t it just figure that it was his mouth making him into a fool?

“Uh, Hank took off a couple hours ago.”

“Yes. I noticed that his plane was gone when I left your house.”

Of course she had.

“He had some fares, so he needed to return to the mainland.”

It was a lie—little and white—since the pilot would have stuck around if Nate hadn’t insisted that he would find Holly a place to stay.

“I guess this means I’m at your mercy.” She blushed again.

Nate’s heart did a funny little flip. Holly. At his mercy. He was guy enough that some serious fantasies could be attached to such a statement, benign though she’d intended it. He nearly pinched his thumb under the board’s clip, and cleared his throat.

“After we eat lunch, I’ll take you around to the other resorts as well as to the real estate office in town. Nadine Masterson runs it. She’ll know if there is anything available to rent, even if it’s not listed. Some of the more exclusive places aren’t advertised.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Holly’s smile was polite. And fake. It was the kind of smile she wore for public appearances. Since Nate was privy to the real
thing, he spotted the imposter easily enough. Less than twenty-four hours in her presence and he’d already figured out that retreating behind good manners was a way for her to mask her true feelings. She’d never done that as a girl. Back then, she’d given as good as she’d gotten, arguing and opining like a champion debater. He’d been fascinated by her passion for life and adventure and, later, for him, as innocent as it had been.

Recalling that now, he asked, “Why do you do that?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re saying one thing when it’s clear you mean another.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re smiling, saying how appreciative you are, but I don’t get the feeling you’re very happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy?” she argued. “As I said, I appreciate the trouble you’re going to, helping me find a place to stay elsewhere on the island.”

Nate thought he had his answer. She hadn’t just come to Heart Island. She’d come to the Haven Resort. “If I had a cottage available, I’d rent it to you. I know I may not
have been very gracious when you first arrived last night, but …”

She smiled—the real thing this time—and clasped her hands in front of her. “I believe you would. Thank you, Nate.”

He hadn’t done anything. Yet. But he would. He would see to it that Holly found a place to stay on Heart and that she enjoyed her time away from her royal duties.

Maybe along the way, she not only would remember the girl she’d once been, she would find a little of that girl’s spirit still within her.

They ate a simple lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches. Unfortunately, one look through his refrigerator and pantry and that was about all Nate could come up with.

He’d meant to get to the grocery store. He was even running low on staples such as milk, eggs and bread. Truth be told, Nate dined out more than he ate in. He liked the company to be found at the Fishing Hole, a pub on the other side of the bay that served the best deep-fried white fish on the island. Even if he came in alone, he never sat alone. Everyone knew everyone. The island was a community in the best sense of the word.

Holly didn’t complain about the pedestrian
fare. Not that Nate expected her to. He’d already figured out that she hadn’t changed quite as much as he’d thought she had in terms of her tastes, and that, despite their earlier conversation, she would kill him with kindness rather than utter any intentionally rude comments.

He missed the young woman who had been full of opinions and dreams, which she’d shared without any prompting at all. One, he still remembered.

“I’m going to be an artist someday. So good, that you probably won’t be able to afford my work.”

The memory had him asking, “Do you still paint?”

She had a mouthful of grilled cheese. She stopped chewing, blinked a couple of times. It was a moment before she swallowed and could reply.

“I … no. Not much. There’s really no time.”

“I’m surprised.” And he was. “I remember someone once telling me that a person makes time for the things that are important.”

“I was never any good at it. It’s not as if anything I painted was going to wind up hanging in a museum or for sale in a gallery.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t important.”

“I … I …” Whatever she’d intended to say went unfinished. Instead, she stood, pushing back from the table so abruptly that her chair nearly tipped over. Her expression wasn’t sad exactly. Nor did she appear angry. But it was clear she was upset.

“Hol—”

But she was already gone, her footsteps thudding on the carpeted steps.

Holly paced the length of her room, equal parts agitated and embarrassed. She’d acted like a fool, dashing out of the kitchen like that. But she couldn’t stay, not when Nate saw her so clearly. She’d felt naked, exposed and ashamed. Ashamed of how she’d let her needs and desires be subjugated.

She’d loved painting, especially with watercolors. In each brushstroke she’d found respite from daily pressures. Yet she’d allowed herself to be steered away from being an artist and toward being a patron of the arts.

“I remember someone once telling me that a person makes time for the things that are important.”

Yes, she’d said that. She’d believed it, too.

How had she allowed herself to forget?

A
S
N
ATE
suspected, pretty much every resort on the island was at capacity. Even a couple of the questionable places on the far side of the island were posting No Vacancy signs.

Holly had been awfully quiet throughout their drive. He’d made no mention of what had happened in the kitchen. It was clear she didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that had prompted her hasty departure.

Beside him in the cab of his truck, he heard Holly sigh.

“It’s not looking good, is it?” she said.

“No, but we’ll swing by the real estate office. As I said, Nadine has resources that I don’t.”

“Maybe I should just call Hank to come get me.”

“And what? Go home?”

She stared straight ahead. From the way
her nose wrinkled, he was pretty sure she found the option distasteful, yet she said, “God knows, my mother would be relieved.”

Would Nate be? Would he be relieved to have the status quo restored? It was a question he wasn’t ready to answer. So, he reminded Holly, “You came here looking for something.”

“Yes, I did.” She plucked at the hem of her blouse. “Something that may no longer exist, and even if it does …”

“Yes?” he prodded.

“You not only have to make time for the things that are important, Nate, you have to have the courage to make that time.”

It was an interesting answer. One that begged questions. But Nate didn’t ask what she meant. She wasn’t the only one lacking for nerve. “We’ll go and talk to Nadine. There’s plenty of time to call Hank later if nothing pans out.”

“All right.”

She leaned her head back on the rest. They were on one of the island’s main roads. Every car that passed going in the opposite direction, the driver waved.

“People are so friendly here,” she remarked.

“We all know one another, the locals, that is. And, even the tourists do it once they’ve been around for a while. When people wave, the natural reaction is to wave back.”

“Like this?” She cupped her hand slightly and gave what he thought of as a royal wave. A smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

“That’s a ‘how do you do’ sort of wave. Here on the island, we keep our fingers splayed a bit and use more wrist. It says, ‘Hey. How’s it going? Have a good one.’” Nate demonstrated.

“I see what you mean,” Holly said in mock seriousness. They passed a pickup truck and she gave her best imitation.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

They both laughed.

She turned and smiled. “Thank you, Nate.”

“For teaching you how to give a proper Heart Island wave?”

“For making me laugh and, well, ferrying me about from place to place.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It is,” she disagreed. “I’ve taken you away from your work for a good portion of the day, and after a vicious storm no less.
I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“Other things to do, maybe. But not better,” he corrected on a smile.

He reached across the truck’s bench seat and gave her hand a squeeze. He wanted to hold it, weave his fingers through hers and maybe stroke the soft skin he encountered with the pad of his thumb. Instead, he released her hand and gripped the steering wheel with both of his.

“To Heart Island Realty,” he said.

The business in question was located near what the islanders referred to as the Four Corners. It was the main intersection just off the ferry landing on the island, and as such, the hub of commerce. Whether tourist or local, pretty much everyone converged on the Four Corners at one point or another during the week.

Stub’s Grocery dominated one corner, a hardware and feed store another. The remaining two were taken up with Mary Sue’s Mercantile, which sold men’s, women’s and children’s clothing as well as home goods; and Dan’s Laundromat, which both shared a parking lot with Phoebe’s Frozen Treats.
Just down from that, and in the same shared parking lot, was Heart Island Realty.

Nate pulled his truck into one of the available spots. Together, he and Holly entered the business.

Nadine Masterson glanced up when the cowbell over the door rang. She was a pretty woman, petite, with brown hair that she wore short these days. She was the same age as Nate. She and her younger sister had moved to the island when Nadine was a senior in high school. It had been quite an adjustment for both of the girls, even though they hadn’t come from a large city. Even small cities had a broader social circle than the island did. Nate had asked Nadine to their senior prom. They’d dated on and off over the years, never seriously, but they enjoyed one another’s company. Their nights out had become a little more frequent since his return to the island a few years earlier. Still, they were anything but exclusive and not in what he would consider a committed relationship.

He began to wonder if maybe she felt otherwise when her face split into a grin when she glanced up and saw him. The smile was a little more intimate than the one saved for a mere friend. The way Holly stiffened,
Nate figured she’d picked up on that, too. He could have smacked himself upside the head for his lapse in judgment. Well, there was no help for it now.

“Nate Matthews,” Nadine was saying as she came around the desk. “If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes on a what has otherwise been a really lousy day.”

“Hey, Nadine.” He reached for Holly, who stood just behind him, and guided her forward. He immediately regretted the proprietary hand he’d rested on the small of Holly’s back. Both women seemed to have a visceral reaction to the gesture.

Nadine’s smile evaporated. Holly jumped.

“And who might this be?”

“This is—”

“I’m Holly. An old friend of Nate’s family.” She stepped to the side, just outside his reach, and extended a hand to the other woman.

“Nadine Masterson.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Masterson.” Holly folded her hands in front of her. “I arrived on the island rather unexpectedly late yesterday. Unfortunately, Nate’s resort is full, but he brought me to you in the hope
that you might find something available for me elsewhere on the island.”

How nonthreatening was that? Nate nearly felt insulted.

Nadine divided a gaze between the two of them. Nate could only imagine what she was thinking, and it was a good bet he would hear all about it the next time they ran into one another at the Fishing Hole.

He wouldn’t have to wait that long, he decided, when Nadine said, “You arrived yesterday, Holly?”

“Yes, late. Hank Whitey flew me over from the mainland.”

“Really. That was bold of him, considering the storm.”

“It was before it hit.”

“I see.”

Two words that in Nate’s experience were women-speak for anything but.

Holly didn’t bat an eye. She remained the picture of calm and contrition. “Hank and I wound up overnight guests at Nate’s home.”

“How convenient.”

“Yes. They are both very kind men. But then, in Nate’s case, given how far our families go back, I’m sure he felt obligated to look after me.”

Nadine’s brows rose at that. Her gaze cut to Nate for a moment before returning to Holly. “Just how far back do you go?”

“To childhood. In fact, I haven’t seen Nate since we were mere children.”

Okay, that was an exaggeration. It’s not as if they’d been toddling about in diapers, but he decided not to correct her.