On the Rocks (A Turtle Island Novel) (28 page)

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
IX

C
arter stood outside the house that wasn’t his, eyeing the key in his palm and seriously contemplating breaking and entering. He really shouldn’t just open the door and go in. It was the middle of the night. It was illegal.

And she might not be alone.

Especially considering the texts he’d gotten from his sister earlier in the evening.

She’s the life of the party.

She’s dancing with a hot man.

You’re going to lose her, you idiot.

What Julie hadn’t known—what she still didn’t know—was that he’d already been in the car, heading Ginger’s way, when her texts had come in. And he prayed now that he wasn’t too late.

Julie had also texted him several times over the last few weeks just to “update him on their neighbor.” He’d told her to stop it. He and Ginger were nothing. Yet every time he’d pulled himself out of the book long enough to check his phone, he’d missed Ginger even more.

Early yesterday morning he’d finished the book. And not long after
ward, he’d gotten into his car and headed south. He’d driven over six
teen hours, had awakened a coastal fisherman and paid him a hefty sum
for a lift to the island, and now that he was here, he didn’t want to wait one minute longer. He wanted to see Ginger.
Before
the sun came up.

But could he just open her door and go in?

He turned back to face the driveway. Only his car and Ginger’s sat there. So if she’d brought home a guy from the wedding, she’d driven him there herself.

Or maybe she’d gone to his place.

Panic began, his pulse beating rapidly. He couldn’t be too late. Not after all this time. Ginger was the one.

It had taken him way too long to see it, but she was it for him. He had to win her over.

He put the key in the lock and turned. The house was dark and silent, and he hoped to hell she wasn’t equipped with her can of Mace, but he’d take it if he had to. He just had to get to her.

Slowly moving through the darkness, his hands full with the items he’d brought for her, he headed for the stairs. Hopefully she’d still be asleep. And hopefully he wouldn’t give her a heart attack by showing up like this.

But when he got to her room, her bed was empty. His heart sank.

Then he saw her through the French doors.

It was a warm night, and she’d apparently taken advantage of it. The underrailing lights were on, and she was reclined in a wooden chair, her bare legs stretched out before her. But she wasn’t sleeping. She was reading.

He crossed the room, dropping his gifts off on the bed, then moved on to the doors. The instant he pushed open the door, she was out of her seat. She whirled toward him, one arm pulled back as if ready to release, and Carter raised his hands in front of his face.

“It’s just me,” he exclaimed.

“What the crap?” she screamed. “Carter! You scared me to death.”

He slowly lowered his hands, peeking out above his fingertips, and letting his gaze eat her up. “I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “Please don’t spray me with Mace.”

She had on a tight green top that stopped at her waist, and tiny white cotton panties riding high on her thighs. And that was all. Bare legs shone in the moonlight, and if he wasn’t already in love with her before, he would have fallen right then.

“It’s not Mace, you moron.” She lowered her hand, her chest heaving with her breaths. “It’s a freaking horror story. One of
yours
! And I did not need to be scared to death while reading it! Good grief.” She was still yelling, and he noticed that her hands were shaking.

“I’m sorry.” He tried the lame apology again. Maybe this hadn’t been the right approach.

“Ring a doorbell or something,” she growled out. Then her eyes narrowed to thin slits. “How did you get into my house?”

“I . . . uh . . .” His sister was right. He was an idiot. “I still have my key. I made a copy before so I could come in when I wanted to write.”

The look on her face was not welcoming. “I should call the cops and have you arrested.”

“I really hope that you don’t.”

“Give me the blanket off my bed.” She jerked her arm out stiff, holding her hand outstretched in front of her. “And I’ll
think
about not calling them.”

He hated to cover her up, but he’d already crossed too many lines unannounced. So he returned to her bedroom and grabbed the gray throw tossed across the end of the giant king-sized mattress, and he couldn’t help but picture her in there. With him.

He swallowed and turned back. He couldn’t think about sex right now.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and crossed it at her waist. Her legs disappeared from view. “Is Julie in labor? Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “Julie’s fine. How was the wedding?” he asked.

“It was great. My mother is happy. The wedding was beautiful.”

“And you had a good time at the reception?” He hated the jealousy burning inside him, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. “I heard you danced with several men.”

She lifted a hand, palm up, as if to ask,
What the fuck?
“Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “Julie. She . . . felt I needed to know.”

Ginger crossed her arms under her breasts and scowled at him. “Well, I don’t know why she’d think that. And yes. I did dance with several men. I had a terrific time.”

“And you were in jeans, I understand.”

She let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I was in jeans. I was the freaking life of the party.”

“I wish I’d seen it.”

She didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure if he preferred her sarcasm or silence.

“So did you line up some dates?” he asked. He really was pathetic.

“Are you kidding me?” Some of the anger seemed to leave her, and her posture softened. Slightly. “No, Carter. I didn’t line up dates. What are you doing here?”

The time had come. Either his marathon drive paid off, or . . .

“I had to see you, and I couldn’t wait another minute to do it.” He opened his heart, and prayed that she could see what she meant to him. “You’ve always been a constant in my life, since practically the day I was born. I hadn’t realized how much that meant to me until I came back last month. You were still here. We still had our mornings. And that . . .” He paused, wishing he were doing a better job explaining himself. “It’s the most special thing I’ve ever known.”

“Sunrises with me are the most special thing you’ve ever known?”

“
You
are the most special thing I’ve ever known,” he said. “Your friendship. Us. Knowing you and I could just . . . be. You were my friend for all those years, but you were also more. I was just too stupid to notice.”

She blinked, and he saw that her jaw had grown tight. Her eyes gave nothing away.

“Please say something.”

“It’s the middle of the night, and you’ve snuck into my house to tell me that you value our friendship. What am I supposed to say?”

“How about if I also tell you that I love you?” Cold terror dried his mouth. “And that I sold Lisa the house. I called my lawyer before I left. Told him to make it happen. And I found this.” He pulled a paper out of his back pocket and handed it over to her.

He’d found it about two hours before he’d gotten into his car to come here. He’d pulled it from an unpacked box, and he’d just known. Everything had become clear.

Ginger unfolded the paper, and he leaned toward her, wanting to look at it with her. She smoothed a finger over the faded blue lines of their blueprint.

“I didn’t know I had it,” he said softly. “It’s our house. This house.”

“My house,” she corrected.

Her words scared him. “Your house.” He took her hand in his, and when she made eye contact, he ignored the fear inside him and plowed ahead. “I love you. I know you may not feel the same way, but I had to come tell you. I had to see if there was a chance.”

“Are you really over Lisa? You were so hurt. You went home so fast.”

“Sweetheart, being over Lisa was never the question. The hurt came from what I’d thought I’d lost—my plans. The life I envisioned. It was never about losing
her
.” He dropped Ginger’s hand to hold his arms out to his side. “I wanted this. I wanted what you want. And in the blink of an eye, she took that from me.”

“And now you think you love me?” Her look grew more skeptical. “Maybe you just see me as another way to get what you once wanted.”

“No.” His desperation grew. “I can see where it might look like that, but you’re wrong. It’s not about the house. It’s about you. You have your daddy’s soul and your mama’s beauty. You make
me
a better person. I love who we are together. That’s why I left so fast when I got Lisa’s e-mail. You and I were getting too close, and I think subconsciously, I knew how badly you could hurt me. I wasn’t ready to risk that.”

“But you think you are now?”

“I know I am now.”

She lowered her gaze, and he could see tears on her eyelashes. The day was just beginning to lighten, making her more visible to him, and she looked sadder in that moment than he’d ever seen her.

“Please tell me there’s a chance,” he whispered brokenly. “I know we were just having a good time before. But I thought you might have wanted more. That last morning, I felt something. I thought you did, too. I’m sorry I disappeared. That I haven’t called. But I had to deal with my own crap. To find myself again, like I’ve watched you find yourself. But I do love you, Ginger. More than I ever knew was possible.”

She was staring at him again. Wearing a look that said he’d played his last card. And lost.

“Okay.” He stepped away from her. “I’ll go. For now. Give you time to think about all this. I brought you something, though. I need to get it.”

He returned to her bedroom for only a few seconds, and when he came back, he passed over the first item. A three-ring binder. “I finished the book,” he told her.

Her eyes rounded.

“You get the first copy.”

She took the book, and after glancing at it, carefully set the binder on her chair. Her interest lay more on the other item in his hand. It was a bundle of balloons of all colors, tied together by their strings. He’d driven with them for the last half of the trip, and two of them were drooping already.

She licked her lips. “What’s with the balloons?” She sounded as scared as he felt.

“I want to be your dream, Gin.” He held them out to her. “I want to be your hope that happiness can always be found in the world. This is my promise that I’ll be that for you. Always. If you’ll allow me to.”

She took them, and when she said nothing, he nodded and turned to go. He had no words left.

“Don’t go.” Her voice reached him before he stepped through the open door.

He closed his eyes. Nerves threatened to cut off his air.

And he slowly turned back.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

I
love you, too.”

A rush of air came from Carter at Ginger’s words, and she moved to stand in front of him. Silently, she watched him, enjoying the shocked look on his face. She might love him, but this wasn’t over yet. She still had questions. And she needed promises more concrete than balloons.

Though she
would
give him credit for the balloons. He understood her.

“You have to be sure.” She said the words softly. “These are big gestures.” She looked at the book lying on the chair. “I get that. And I appreciate them. But this is a big deal. I don’t want to get my hopes up for you, Carter. Not if you’re not positive that I’m the one for you. I’m in a good place now. I don’t need a man. And I certainly don’t need to be crushed by one.”

“I would never hurt you.” He touched his fingers to her arm. “Not in that way. Though Lord knows I can be stupid. I might accidentally cause pain, but when I do, baby, just tell me. I’ll fix it. And yes, I’m sure. I’m positive. You’re perfect for me. And if you’ll have me, I plan to marry you.”

Could it really be this simple?

“Just like that?” she asked. Fear and hope warred together and had her hands shaking once again. “We’re childhood friends, I grow up and you see me naked, we have a little
casual
sex, you go back home the instant your ex-wife waves, and suddenly . . . you want to marry me?”

He smiled, and the heat from it torched her a little.

But she had to ignore that heat until this was sorted out.

“I absolutely want to marry you,” he confirmed. “But good call on the nakedness. I think it was the angel potholders that did it for me. I plan to buy you a replica pair as a wedding gift.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and at this point she had to fight off her smile. She was caving; she could feel it. But that might be okay.

“I haven’t said I’ll marry you,” she pointed out.

“I am aware of that fact. You haven’t said anything, really. Other than that you love me.”

His eyes burned steady on hers, and she saw the fear still in them. He’d laid his heart on the line for her. And that’s what she’d needed. She still wasn’t positive, but if he’d just shown up and said that he wanted to pick up where they’d left off, maybe take it a layer or two deeper, that wouldn’t have been enough. She’d changed too much over the last few weeks. She wanted all or nothing.

And the truth was, she wanted it all. With Carter.

“You scare me,” she told him. “You could hurt me a lot.”

“I understand that. I’m scared, too. But I also think I could make you happy a lot. And I swear I’ll do my best to make that happen.”

Ginger didn’t take her eyes off him. She wanted to believe in this. All of it. But it was so sudden. But then, hadn’t she waited thirty years for this? She’d known him her whole life. Loved him as a friend forever.

Why couldn’t it so easily be more now?

“Sit with me until sunrise?” she asked. She needed to calm down and think. And the two of them at sunrise was always the best time for her to think.

“That’s why I drove all night,” he answered solemnly.

And that almost won her over. Together they turned, the balloons still in her hand, and they settled into one chair, her on his lap.

She loved him. And she’d told him. And that had felt unbelievable.

There was no way she would let him get away from her now. But he’d made her wait three weeks for this. She would make him wait at least three minutes.

The sun was closer than she’d realized. She’d sat up all night, rereading his latest book. She looked at the binder he’d brought her, and she felt his love encircle her. He’d given her his book.

She reached for it, and opened it across her lap.

To Ginger Root

My friend. My soul mate. My love.

Let me be your balloons forever.

“That is the corniest dedication ever.” Her voice wobbled, and tears once again spilled from her eyes.

“You wound me, babe.”

She looked up at him. “I mean, really. What are people going to think? Let you be my balloons forever? Ginger Root? They’ll think I’m insane.”

“Well, you
don’t
wear pants.”

“Carter.”
She elbowed him in the chest. Then he smiled at her and pressed a slow, hot kiss to her mouth. He left her breathless.

“They’ll think I’m the luckiest man alive,” he told her after they parted.

“And I get to be the first one to read it,” she whispered. She sighed in great satisfaction, but then made a face at him. “You do know that it’ll only take me a couple of days to finish it.”

“Readers.”
Carter rolled his eyes as she liked to do. “They can be so demanding.”

“Good thing I got your office finished. So you can get busy on the next one.”

The smile froze on his face. Then he looked up.

“I had Gene add in a special writing corner for you. I noticed that if the sun is up, you sometimes turn your back to the ocean when you write, yet you still seem to want to hear the waves. Now you have a spot in the room where you can do that.”

“Baby.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. But can we really do this, Carter? Can we love each other? After all this time?”

“We already do. That’s a given. It’s the ‘more’ I’m after now. I want forever. With
you
.”

She tucked herself in tight against his chest, her balloons waving in the morning breeze, and the sun silently slipping from behind the ocean. It rose up, shining bright on their faces, and she tilted her eyes to meet his. “And I want forever with you.”