Sanctuary Island (20 page)

“Would that be such an impossible concept?”

“It’s pretty hard to love myself when I’ve turned into a man my old teammates wouldn’t even recognize.”

Ella shuffled around in the dirt to get her knees under her so she could lean into Grady’s space. She wanted to make sure he heard what she was telling him. “If you don’t like who you are, change.”

Anger sparked in his green eyes, and his mouth turned hard and a little mean. “I know you don’t believe that people can change.”

She sat back, surprised. “Of course I do!”

“Oh yeah? Let’s talk about your mom, then. I assume that applies to her, too.”

Direct hit.

Ella swallowed back an answering surge of temper. It shocked her a little, how easily he pushed her buttons.

She lifted her chin, determined to prove her point even if it might actually choke her to get the words out. “In fact, yes. Jo Ellen has changed; I can certainly see and acknowledge that.”

Grady shut up, surprised out of his defensive attack. “Really. You’re ready to admit you were wrong about her.”

“Not exactly. Let me say it once again: nuance.” Ella stood up and dusted off her dirty knees and backside. “Learn it, live it, love it, baby.”

“More dancing around.” Grady sounded disgruntled, as if Ella’s refusal to admit that life was a study in black-and-white offended him personally. “Just say what you mean.”

“It’s not that easy,” Ella protested, staring down at the thick, windblown waves of his dark blond hair. “In the last few days, I’ve had a chance to watch how Jo Ellen interacts with people on the island. With Merry, with you, with your cousin Taylor.”

Grady tipped his head back to rest against the rock. Even with the wide expanse of the ocean at her back, Ella felt consumed by Grady’s presence, as if he sucked all the air out of the world just by sprawling at her feet and breathing.

“She and Taylor have always been close,” he observed, watching her intently.

Ella felt his scrutiny like a caress along her cheekbones. Schooling her face to show nothing, she said, “I can tell. And from everything I’ve seen, Jo has been a mostly positive presence in Taylor’s life. Jo appears to truly love and care for her, and Taylor trusts her to continue in that vein indefinitely.”

She paused. “But I can’t extend Jo a similar trust, because no matter how wonderful a mother figure she’s been for Taylor, she was nothing like that for me. Maybe it’s my own failing—I’ll cop to that. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust Jo not to turn back into that frightening, selfish…”

Grady appeared to pause and really take in what Ella was saying. His golden brows drew down, wrinkling his forehead into a frown. “Ella. When you were little—did she hurt you?”

“Now who’s dancing around? The question you want to ask is, Did she hit me? And the answer to that is no. Not really. But that was mostly because I learned early on to stay out of her way when she was in one of her moods.” Ella smiled faintly. “That’s what we called it when she drank. A mood. It made sense at the time, because you never knew from one day to the next what you were going to get—happy, bubbly, frenetically energetic Mom who’d insist on taking you to the park but would get distracted and leave you there for hours?”

“God. Ella.” Grady stood up and reached for her, tugging her against his chest.

Ella pushed her face into the sun-warmed cotton of his shirt and sniffled. She wasn’t crying. She hated crying—it always felt like emotional manipulation to her.

“Or there was sad, sobbing Mom,” Ella said, her voice muffled. “She didn’t leave her room for days, not even to kiss you good-night. And sometimes—when Dad was home instead of traveling, and he tried to talk to her about her drinking—we got angry Mom. When they fought, the whole rest of the world fell away. I used to think the house could burn down around their ears, and they’d just keep screaming at each other. It felt like nothing mattered but the fight. Not Merry, not me—and the fact was, Jo cared more about drinking, about herself, than she cared about any of us. She didn’t say it in so many words, but she proved it over and over again. Every time she made a humiliating public spectacle of our family or forgot a birthday, she proved we didn’t matter to her.”

One of Grady’s broad palms cupped the back of her head gently. It was indescribably comforting, but Ella pulled back to get a better look at his face. She had to know if he understood.

His eyes were dark green, filled with shadows. “How old were you when they split up?”

“I was eleven when Dad finally got us out of there. Merry was eight.”

Understanding lit his face. “So young. I bet Merry barely remembers what it was like to live with Jo back then.”

“Little kids absorb more than you think.” Ella sighed. “But I believe she’s blocked a lot of it. What memories she does have, she’s choosing to ignore. Merry’s never been great at learning from the past—she tends to make the same mistakes over and over.”

A wintry smile stretched Grady’s lips, but never reached his eyes. He dropped his arms and stepped back. “See? People don’t change.”

The distance between them could be measured in inches, but it felt like miles. Shivering in the breeze that had felt warm and friendly with Grady’s arms around her, Ella stared up at the harsh lines of his face, and suddenly, she couldn’t stand it.

“People can change,” she said. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

Before she could overthink it, Ella toed off her sneakers and ran for the rocky ledge over the open water.

Air pumped into her lungs, salty and bracing. The sun was hot on her skin. A gull flew from the clump of bushes clinging to the ledge, buffeted by the breeze and spreading its wings.

A deep thrill of fear sang through her blood, but she was running, her body taking over for her brain, for once, and with Grady’s shout of “Ella!” ringing in her ears and the rocks at the edge of the cliff scraping her bare feet, Ella bent her knees and soared into the air.

*   *   *

Heart in his throat, Grady had his boots off before the dark banner of Ella’s wind-whipped hair had disappeared below the edge. The splash got him moving. He skidded to a stop and peered over, terrified of what he’d see, even though he knew there was nothing down there for Ella to hit.

That had always seemed like enough before, when it was him doing the jumping—but when it was Ella?

He scanned the water frantically, terror punching straight to his gut when she didn’t appear.

The surface of the ocean was smooth, the only movement the white-capped waves breaking on the cliff face.

“Ella!” he shouted, the wind snatching the word right out of his mouth.

He didn’t waste another second. His brain clicked over into rescue mode as he backed up a few steps to get a running start.

Feet pounding the hard-packed earth, Grady raced for the edge and hurtled off, the familiar surge of adrenaline spiking his bloodstream. He plunged into the icy water, but he didn’t have time to give in to the shock of it. Kicking hard for the surface, Grady shook his head like a dog and gasped for air.

Blinking the salt water from his stinging eyes, the first thing he saw was Ella’s radiant smile.

“That was amazing,” she panted, paddling gamely toward him. She wasn’t the strongest swimmer he’d ever seen, a fact that sent another spurt of belated adrenaline coursing through his system.

“Ella! You’re okay.”

“Better than okay!” Her eyes were wide and full of joy.

His heart squeezed hard enough to burst. Getting his hands on the chilled flesh of her upper arms and feeling her flailing legs tangle with his helped a lot.

She clung enthusiastically, forcing Grady to tread water powerfully enough to keep them both afloat.

“I’ve never done anything like that.” She was bubbling over, her lips so close to his ear that he felt every word as much as heard it. “It’s like the foal all over again. Oh my gosh.”

“Are you warm enough?” He folded her in to his chest, reveling in the slip of her skin against his where his T-shirt had ridden up with the jump.

“I’m too excited to feel anything.” Ella laughed, her arms winding around his neck as she wriggled distractingly.

Even half submerged in cold water, Grady couldn’t say the same. He felt it all—every movement of her body, the friction of her movements, and, even through her jeans, the heat where she was splayed open against his belly.

Unable and unwilling to resist, Grady rasped, “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

And he dipped his head to take Ella’s laughing mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

CHAPTER 20

Ella shuffled her stack of projections, location reports, and graphs charting the potential for Sanctuary Island, and tried to convince herself there was no reason to be nervous.

A truck engine rumbled loudly out front as Jo drove up the driveway. Ella fumbled her papers and dropped them in a fluttering cascade.

So much for not being nervous.

When Jo walked in, Ella was scrambling under the table for the last elusive page of her prospectus.

“What on earth?” Jo sounded mystified.

Cheeks flaming hot, Ella snatched the final page and backed up on her knees. She got to her feet as gracefully as she could under the circumstances, meeting Jo’s amused gaze with a self-conscious smile.

“It never fails.” Ella shook her head. “Ever since I set foot on Sanctuary Island, I can’t seem to stop finding new ways to make a fool of myself.”

The amusement in Jo’s eyes faded to unhappiness.. “I’m sorry you haven’t found anything on the island to enjoy.”

An echo of the exhilaration she’d felt while free-falling fifty feet into open water shivered down her arms and legs. All she could think about was the warm passion of Grady’s mouth against hers, and the way they’d smiled at each other afterward, even as Ella realized she’d broken every promise she’d made to herself about keeping her distance from Grady Wilkes.

Not helpful to think about that now. Focus!

“Oh, not at all!” Ella pasted on a broad smile, fingers carefully riffling the pages of her proposal back into order. “I think Sanctuary has a lot of potential. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Jo pulled out a chair with a slow scrape of wooden legs against the hardwood floor. “Really? What kind of potential?”

Ella let out a surreptitious breath and felt herself settle into the familiar rhythm of pitching an idea to a prospective client.

“With its natural beauty, hiking trails, and the unique attraction of the free-range wild horse herds, I think Sanctuary Island could draw a fair bit of tourist trade.” She spread a chart she’d printed out from her laptop on the table in front of Jo, who leaned over it as if fascinated. “But the problem is that once they’re here, there’s no place on the island to stay. Not even a campground. Winter Harbor has some nice inns, but the ferry schedule is erratic, making day trips to the island inconvenient.”

Jo glanced up at her, blue eyes unreadable. “True enough. We don’t get a lot of day-trippers.”

“That’s not where the money is, anyway,” Ella told her. “What Sanctuary needs is to be able to attract tourists to stay overnight and spend their dollars over the course of a weekend, or longer. Sanctuary needs an inn.”

The chair creaked as Jo sat back to study Ella’s face. “And where are you envisioning this inn?”

Ella produced another page, the jewel of her proposal, and the one she’d spent the most time on.

It was a large photograph she’d printed out of Jo’s house. She’d gone into a photo manipulation program and touched up the paint in the image, carefully erased the signs of wear and tear, and added some flowering bushes out front—along with a sign that read
WINDY CORNER BED & BREAKFAST
.

She placed the photo in front of Jo. “Right here.”

Silence stretched between them, long enough for Ella to get uncomfortable. She was used to getting a big reaction from clients—most of them weren’t able to visualize the possibilities for themselves, but once she showed them images of how the place could look, she usually got gasps and interest. Something. Anything!

“It’s not the most professional mock-up in the world, but you get the idea,” Ella said, hating the nerves she could hear in her own voice. “Normally, I would’ve used glossy paper for the photo, but I couldn’t find any. I wasn’t expecting to need to come up with a prospectus on the fly while I was here.”

“Why did you?” Still fingering the edges of the B and B photo, Jo lifted her head to pin Ella with a sharp gaze.

“What do you mean?” Ella tried to sidestep the question, but Jo wasn’t having any of it.

“You’ve been more than clear about your feelings for the island—and for me. I think you know I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be a part of your life. But I know that doesn’t go both ways. What possessed you to spend so much time and energy coming up with this?”

Ella’s defensive shields slammed into place. “This is what I do for a living,” she reminded Jo. “I look at properties and see their potential, then I work to develop it. I’m very good at what I do—I’ve made a lot of money for my clients and my firm. And from what I can see, you need an infusion of cash just to keep this place from falling down around your ears.”

Jo stiffened. “The upkeep of a house this old is expensive. But I’m doing all right.”

Sensing weakness, Ella leaned in. “Are you? Because I’ve done my homework. I know about the lien. I also know you won’t be able to pay it off without a major loan from a bank. And no bank is going to fork over any cash unless you can show a way that you’ll be able to use part of that loan to turn a profit and pay them back.”

“I have the stables!” Jo protested, before narrowing her eyes. “And how do you know about the debt? Does Merry know?”

Time for another sidestep. “The stables aren’t making money,” Ella said bluntly. “And according to my projections, giving riding lessons and boarding other people’s horses aren’t likely to provide a huge income. Unless you have connections in the horse racing or champion breeding worlds that I don’t know about?”

Jo looked away, and Ella read her answer in the tight, slumped line of the older woman’s shoulders.