Her Forbidden Love (Indigo Island Book 2) (11 page)

Steve began to pace back and forth in front of her bed. “It’s a problem, this woman. The boat that’s missing was filled with men. We don’t know who this woman is or how she ended up here. The sheriff has called in assistance from Hilton Head,” Steve said, sweat glistening on his top lip. “It’s not good for any of us, this development. Bad for tourism, bad for Top Club. Believe it or not, I’m looking out for all of us. This is bad.”

“It’s especially not good for her, whoever she was. Oh, my God,” Dorsey said, shaking her head as she struggled to again erase the image of the woman from her mind. She wished Jack were still sitting beside her.

Steve walked over next to her bed, placing a hand on her head. She could feel the warmth and moisture of his palm and wanted to squirm away. She was trapped. “Well, I’ve told the police what I know. They’ll want to speak with you. I don’t think there’s any connection here, to our island. I’m thinking whatever happened probably happened over in Hilton Head and she washed up over here. Nothing bad happens on Indigo Island. Poor woman. Let’s hope we can put all of this behind us. Quickly, before the tourists are scared away. Feel better,” Steve said, using his entire hand to squeeze her head, too tightly.

“Ouch,” Dorsey said, pulling her head away from his grasp.

Steve smiled and looked down at her. “So pretty, so loved by all the kids, aren’t you?” he said before turning to leave. He stopped in the doorway, pointing a finger towards her. “But, Dorsey? I don’t think you are remembering the policy?” His jaw tensed and his long neck jutted towards her.

“I know all the policies, Steve,” she said, staring straight into his eyes, unblinking, until he made the thumbs-up sign, turned and walked out the door.

“Oh no,” Dorsey said, waking up and noticing how bright the room was. Had she slept all night? “What has happened? What have I missed?”

Jack was shaking his head as he hurried to her bedside. “Nothing, you’ve missed nothing. The woman is still dead. The place is swarming with cops and investigators. Crime scene tape is everywhere. More ferries are arriving right now with a team of forensic specialists from Savannah. They’ll figure out who that woman was and how she got here.”

“Good, I hope they do and find her murderer. It’s really important to find the person in the first few hours,” Dorsey said, staring at the wall, not looking at Jack.

“This isn’t just about that poor woman on the beach, is it?” Jack said, his brown eyes hooded with sadness. “Do you need to tell me something, anything else, maybe about the past?”

“Nope,” Dorsey said, and yanked the blue cotton blanket up under her chin. “I need to take a shower.”

“OK. That’s a good idea,” Jack said as he stood, stretched, and plopped the newspaper onto the chair. “You know, whatever you need, whenever you want to talk, I’m here for you. I want to help.” He leaned over and helped her climb out of bed. “Don’t close me out.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, numb and confused, but comforted by the caring man who had entered her life just when she had least expected it. Dorsey stumbled out of bed toward the bathroom, trying to wake up. “If you’re lucky, you might have the distinct pleasure of seeing me showered and in makeup. Just don’t expect anything grand. Come back in an hour. OK?”

“You and makeup? Now won’t that be something to see,” Jack said with a smile before walking out the front door and pulling it closed behind him.

“I’m in love,” Dorsey said aloud to her empty bathroom. She’d let too much slip about her past, but he’d been a gentleman and hadn’t pushed her for more. But what about Rebecca? Was he secretly seeing her, too? Maybe there was more to their relationship than Dorsey realized. They’d slept together last summer after all. Fortunately, the image of the dead woman didn’t haunt her in the shower unless she closed her eyes. So she didn’t. Instead she focused on what it would feel like to have Jack rubbing the soap all over her body. That, she discovered, was a very pleasant thought.

By the time he returned, she had attempted makeup and had almost dried her hair.

“You’re really beautiful,” he said, handing her a bunch of hot pink bougainvillea he had yanked from one of the bushes outside the cottage.

“Thanks, but those have ants and major thorns,” Dorsey said, holding her hands up and not accepting the flowers. “I found out the hard way when I made a bouquet of them for my table, and they had started an indoor colony by the time I came back from work.”

“Bummer.” Jack retraced his steps out the door—and bumped into Steve, who was about to knock.

“Sorry,” Jack said.

“Nice flowers, kid,” he said.

“Check for ants. I had a couple on my hand,” Jack said, releasing his grip.

“So what are you all doing tonight? Going on a date? Flowers, and Dorsey, don’t you look nice,” Steve said. Dorsey saw Steve’s eyes narrow, his jaw tense as he glared at Jack.

“Of course not, Steve,” Dorsey said. “We know that’s not allowed. We’re just a couple of friends hanging out.”

“Just be sure that is all it is,” Steve said, and then chuckled in his high-pitched way. “Remember all Top Club policies apply to everyone. Including young rising stars like you two.”

“Is that a threat? Tell me, are you going to write us up for this or do we have your permission to hang out?” Jack said to Steve, his hands on his hips. The tension between the two men pumped through the air.

Steve blinked, and smiled. “Just don’t want any drama like we have now with Rebecca, you little Casanova, you. You kids have fun, just keep to the rules.”

“Let’s go,” Jack said to Dorsey and they walked past Steve and out into the night.

Chapter 12

Jack

H
ow dare he bring up Rebecca, in front of Dorsey? Jack was trying hard to keep his temper in check but he felt his fists tightening. He had planned a special evening for Dorsey and he needed to focus on that. One day, he’d get his revenge on Steve, he just had to bide his time.

Jack had decided to create a picnic in the grass near the swimming pool complex, his own domain, and he had a perfect spot hidden from view but still a great view of the sunset. Sure, he’d made out here with a couple girls each summer, most annoyingly Rebecca at the end of last season. But he’d never wanted to make a picnic for anyone. He hoped he’d thought of everything: wine, cheese, bread, and apples he’d actually paid for. He had his favorite red blanket, a pillow and a lantern for after the sunset. He knew Dorsey didn’t want to be near the beach, not after today. He hadn’t been able to be near a swimming pool for a long time after Bobby drowned. But he also knew it was time for her to make some new, good memories on Indigo Island.

“So what do you think?” Jack asked Dorsey as he unfurled the blanket. “Perfect spot, right?”

Dorsey was wearing a simple white sundress and flip flops. Her hair was in a loose braid down her back tied with a white ribbon. Jack thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

“This is perfect, so private. How did you find it? Have you been here before with somebody?” she asked hands on hips, eyes flashing an accusation.

“Nope. Planning a picnic is a first for me,” he said, kissing her on the cheek, enjoying the flush in her face. “Have a seat.”

Dorsey plunked down and he sat down next to her, pouring a glass of Merlot and then filled his own glass. He lit the lantern and pulled out the cheese and apples. He could smell the floral scent of her shampoo. Her heart-shaped lips glistened with clear gloss. She was a natural beauty, her green eyes glowing in the setting sun, freckles dotting her small nose.

“How did you get the courage to become a lifeguard, after watching what happened to your brother?” she asked, swirling the red liquid in her glass. “I just don’t know if I would ever be able to do that.”

“I did it for my mom,” he said, swallowing hard, remembering his reluctance when she first told him. “Mom signed me up for lifeguard training at the Y the summer after Bobby died. She made me do it.”

She put her hand on his shoulder and he relaxed.

“It was the right thing to do. For both of us. The swimming pool is a second home to me now, like the ocean. And my mom didn’t have to worry about me in the water, even though she refuses to ever go swimming.” He sighed and shook his head. He could only live his life and help her as much as he could.

“How about you? Are you doing okay?” Jack asked her, wrapping his arm around her, pulling her in close to him as they sat side by side, facing the now calm sound. He marveled about how just earlier this afternoon, the waters were furious, the waves huge for such a protected stretch of water. Huge enough to push a body onto shore, one that had been, he’d heard from one of the investigators he’d been chatting with, anchored to the sea floor with a weight. That little bit of information had given Jack the chills and he had yet to share it with Dorsey, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“This really is perfect, Jack,” Dorsey said, leaning into his side, trusting him to hold her up. She was holding a clump of the blanket in her right hand, holding on tight. “I feel like I need to tell you everything, tell you my story. It was a night sort of like this one.”

“Honestly, Dorsey, you don’t have to tell me,” Jack said, staring up at the stars beginning to dot the sky. Jack could lose himself in the sky, mesmerized by the number and clarity of the stars and planets. Especially the sky here on Indigo Island – it was so different from the city, from anywhere else he’d known. So freeing. The opposite of Orlando and everything fake that city stood for in his mind. Dorsey was the opposite of every woman he’d known. He didn’t want to push her into anything.

“I want to tell you,” Dorsey said. As Jack looked at her he saw her eyes were glistening, wet with silent tears. “Dad and Mom were so in love, they were actually high school sweethearts. I’m an only child. I got to see it all, even if they were embarrassing sometimes. They were the kind of couple you hoped to be. They had that kind of love. And according to the tradition my father taught me as a little girl, I always wish silently upon a star. I miss him so much,” Dorsey said, quickly wiping the back of her hand across each eye, stemming the flow. “He was really handsome. Big brown eyes, like yours.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jack said. He didn’t know what else to say or what else to do. He didn’t know exactly what had happened to her dad, just that something terrible had. He realized listening could be the biggest gift he could give her, even though, like most guys, he wanted to fix things, fix it all for her.

High in the sky, a full moon illuminated a path of light across the ocean, seeming to reach out and touch the blanket they shared on the grass. The air was warm and dry for the island, the perfect temperature.

“It was ten years ago now, but it’s still so vivid. Especially after today, on the beach. We were gardening, Dad and I. I was kneeling, planting a row of sunflower seeds when it happened. I saw the gunman and he saw me before he turned and ran, surprised there had been a witness. Surprised his act had been seen. My dad, though, lay still on the grass, his blood soaking into our perfect green lawn, splattered on my face and arms. His eyes a blank stare, his mouth frozen in the shape of no.”

Jack was at a loss for words, for what to do or say. He wanted to absorb her pain, make it go away but he knew just like with his brother’s death, some things are a weight on your heart forever.

“So they caught the killer, right? You saw him?”

Dorsey’s sobs grew harder and all Jack could do was hold her close until she’d cried them all out.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. Where is your mom now?” Jack asked, gently rocking her in his arms as she leaned against him.

“She’s back home in Kentucky,” Dorsey said. “It’s where she grew up, although I don’t know anybody there. But she likes it. She’ll never remarry. She’ll garden. Raise horses. Dream about Daddy.”

“So who takes care of you?” Jack asked. He pushed the hair back out of her face and bent forward to look into her eyes.

“Me? Well, myself, I guess. My old boyfriend, Chad, stuck around for a bit, until I became too embarrassing. My dad’s face was on a website hosted by anti-abortion crusaders, a big red X through his face. The local news covered it, and the national news.” Dorsey shuddered, dropping her head in her hands. “Since the killer was never found, the story sort of lingers still. Urban, rather, suburban legend.”

“You didn’t see who did it?” Jack asked.

“I don’t want to talk about that, about the day, okay?” Dorsey said quietly, blinking away the memories. “After he died, I had trouble doing things, trouble concentrating. I made it through high school somehow. I waited tables in different restaurants. Made good money. Worked my way through Ohio State. I was a nanny for a great family and their love helped me pull my life together. But I needed to find myself. I wanted to get whole, start over. Get past my family’s tragedy.”

Jack cradled Dorsey as they looked out over the water. The sun had set and stars filled the sky. He was aroused and wanted to touch her, to comfort her, to make her feel like she was home and safe now, but didn’t know how she’d react. He liked taking care of her, but he wanted more. Much more. Patience wasn’t his strong suit. Finally, he said. “Let’s go back to my cottage. Have a nightcap. You can spend the night if you’d like—but you don’t have to.”