Sea Glass Island (3 page)

“Second chances are hard to come by,” Ethan said.

“Voice of experience?” she asked him.

“You could say that.”

She looked as if she wanted to probe a little more deeply, but Ethan forestalled her questions by asking, “You’ll have a way to get back home from here?”

Though she was clearly disconcerted by the change of topic, she merely nodded. “Sure. Emily, if I’m still speaking to her after this morning’s turn of events. If not, I’m sure Grandmother will take pity on me and let me use her car.”

“If that doesn’t work out, give me a call. I have a light morning at the clinic, unless some big emergency crops up. I can always run you back home.” Even as the offer came out of his mouth, he was mentally kicking himself for making it. Spending any more time with this woman than absolutely necessary was probably emotional suicide.

She grinned at him. “You almost made that sound like a sincere offer,” she said.

“It was,” he insisted.

She shook her head. “Something tells me we shouldn’t be giving them any encouragement. I’ve seen how my family works, Ethan. One tiny little hint that their meddling is working and they won’t let up. Do you really want the aggravation?”

“No, I suppose not,” he said, surprised to find that a part of him was actually disappointed at the prospect of running across her only when their wedding duties required it.

“Okay, then,” she said breezily. “Thanks for the lift. See you around, I’m sure.”

“See you,” he mumbled, and watched her go. He told himself his inability to tear his gaze away was purely masculine appreciation of a gorgeous woman, but the truth was, there was also just the tiniest twinge of regret.

* * *

Unfortunately the clinic was even quieter than Ethan had predicted, which made his determination to keep his mind off Samantha Castle much harder to achieve. If he closed his eyes for so much as a second, he could see that old football jersey of his riding up her bare backside as she stretched on tiptoe to reach into a kitchen cupboard. The fact that the image had stuck with him was troubling. Then, again, it had been a while since he’d seen a sight that provocative.

He grabbed the running clothes he kept at the clinic, changed into them in the bathroom, then stopped to let his partner, Greg Knotts, know that he was taking a break. The other Afghanistan vet gave him a knowing look.

“Something on your mind?”

“More like someone,” Ethan told him.

“A woman?”

Ethan nodded.

Greg’s expression lit up. “Well, hallelujah! It’s about time you moved on. It was a crying shame you let an idiot like Lisa keep you from having an active social life.”

Ethan grinned. Greg, along with Boone and his other friends, had been fiercely united in their dislike of his former fiancée. Unlike some of them, Greg had never been shy about expressing his opinion. That straightforward talk, while annoying at times, was one of the reasons they got along so well. Ethan knew he could trust Greg to have his back. Boone was the only other friend about whom he felt the same way.

“Lisa is old news,” he told Greg. “I try not to think about her.”

“But the woman’s still in your head,” Greg said. “I’ve seen you show a spark of interest in someone new a time or two, and then in a flash I can almost see the wheels in your head turning and that tape of her dumping you playing again. I think that’s what I hate her for the most, not that she left, but that she ripped your soul to shreds in the process.”

It was true, Ethan thought, but refused to admit. The fact that he let a woman like Lisa control his life, even a little, was crazy. Rationally, he knew that. That didn’t make it any easier to burn that stupid mental tape Greg was talking about.

“No more,” he insisted, more wistful than convinced that it was true.

“I hope so,” Greg said. “So, who is she? The woman who’s got you in a dither this morning?”

Ethan knew he wasn’t going to get out of the clinic without filling Greg in. Unlike Ethan, Greg was a happily married father of three, who yearned to live vicariously through someone else’s exciting social life. He’d pester Ethan until he spilled details.

“A woman named Samantha Castle,” he told him.

Greg whistled.

Ethan regarded him with surprise. “You know her?”

“I used to admire all of the Castle sisters from afar. They were way out of my league. Samantha was something, even back then. I’ve spotted her a few times on TV, mostly commercials, but she was in an episode of
Law and Order
not too long ago. Barely a walk-on, but I recognized those incredible long legs.” He sighed. “What she did for a pair of high heels ought to be outlawed. It probably is in some states.”

Ethan chuckled. “Yeah, I can see that. Of course, she wasn’t wearing shoes when we met. Or much of anything else, for that matter.”

Greg’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me!”

“I walked into the kitchen over at her grandmother’s this morning and there she was, wearing nothing but an old football jersey, reaching up into a cupboard.”

“How’d you know it was all she was wearing?”

“It was evident,” Ethan said, unwilling to describe the glimpse he’d gotten of her delectable bottom. Some things a man didn’t share, not even with his buddies.

“Holy mackerel,” Greg said, his voice tinged with reverence. His expression suddenly turned speculative. “You said an old football jersey. Yours, by any chance?”

Ethan frowned. “How’d you know?”

“I remember hearing way back that she had a crush on you. A couple of guys we hung out with asked her out, but she turned them down flat. She was maybe fifteen, sixteen. You were a senior and all caught up with your adoring horde of beauties. If you ask me, not a one of them held a candle to her, but you were oblivious. I watched her stand on the fringes of a few beach parties, her heart in her eyes.”

Since Boone had mentioned something similar about an old crush, Ethan couldn’t dismiss the comment. “I’m surprised you didn’t rush in to console her.”

“Like I said, she was out of my league. And I had enough issues living in the shadow of your popularity without risking rejection by one of your adoring fans.”

Ethan knew perfectly well that Greg’s ego had been healthy enough to withstand most anything back then. If Ethan had been a star on the offensive side of the football, Greg had been equally outstanding on defense. He’d even played both college and pro football briefly while studying medicine, a taxing combination that proved he had both brains and athletic skills, to say nothing of a whole lot of grit and determination.

And yet with all that potential to choose either a well-paying career in pro football or an equally successful path in medicine, he, just like Ethan, had opted for tours in the military. Unlike Ethan, though, Greg had come back in one piece, physically at least. Only a handful of people knew of the nightmares that tormented him, nightmares that left him emotionally exhausted and his wife and kids shaken.

Ethan’s understanding of the toll PTSD had taken on his friend and Greg’s insights into Ethan’s struggles to cope with his physical disability had made them the perfect partners for this medical practice in a quiet, familiar community.

Ethan noted the signs of exhaustion on his friend’s face and realized that all this focus on his social life was masking another of Greg’s bad nights.

“Change and come running with me,” he suggested, knowing that physical exertion could help them both. “Debra and Pam can hold the fort here and call us if there’s a sudden rush of patients. It’ll do you good. I might even let you beat me for a change.”

Greg laughed. “Let me? Just who do you think you’re fooling? If you’re brave enough to put a little money on this, I think we’ll see that you’re no match for me.”

“You believe that?” Ethan mocked. “You’re even more delusional than I thought.”

“Oh, it’s true. I might just give you a head start to even up your chances,” Greg taunted. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to take your money.”

Ethan scowled at that. “I’m faster these days, even on one good leg, than you are on two. You’ve gone soft, Knotts. Now, come on. Change those clothes and lace up your running shoes. I’ll wait.”

“Two minutes,” Greg said, accepting the challenge as Ethan had known he would. “Loser buys lunch.”

“Works for me,” Ethan agreed.

“And I have a hankering for a burger at Castle’s,” Greg said, his expression gloating. “Just so you know what’s at stake.”

Ethan stared after him. Oh, he knew, all right. Lunch where there was every chance he’d catch another glimpse of Samantha? So much for clinging to whatever hard-won peace of mind he accomplished on this run.

3

“Y
ou sent Ethan Cole to the house without warning me,” Samantha said, giving her sister a swat. “How could you do that?”

“I didn’t want you to tell me not to,” Emily said blithely. “And to be totally accurate, Boone sent him. I didn’t.”

Samantha regarded her with a cynical look. “Not much of a defense, Em. Surely you can do better than that.”

“Why should I?” Emily asked unrepentantly, then grinned. “How’d it go? Judging from your mood, I’m guessing it was exactly the push the two of you needed.”

“We did not need a push, or a nudge or any other form of interference,” Samantha retorted.

Emily merely rolled her eyes. “Resent me now, but once the two of you are as happy as Boone and me, you’ll thank me.”

“You think so?” Samantha said direly. “He caught me in his football jersey reaching for a mug in the kitchen cabinet. I think his eyes are still glazed over from the glimpse he probably caught of my bare bottom.”

Emily burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s perfect!”

“It wasn’t perfect,” Samantha contradicted. “It was awkward and embarrassing.”

“But he’s bound to be intrigued, don’t you think? You do have an incredibly shapely bottom, after all. And Ethan hasn’t dated a lot since his fiancée dumped him. He needs someone just like you to get him back into the game.”

“Hold on,” Samantha said as Emily’s offhand remark sank in. “His fiancée dumped him? After he came home from Afghanistan?”

“I know. Really tacky, huh?” Emily said, her expression sobering. “I’d like to give that woman a piece of my mind.”

Samantha agreed. “It was definitely a pretty shallow reaction, assuming it was about the loss of his leg,” she said.

“Oh, it was all about that,” Emily confirmed. “Boone says she told him she couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t whole or perfect or something like that.”

“That’s disgusting. No wonder he’s so sensitive about how people are likely to react,” Samantha said, seeing their conversation in a different light. “He admitted he’d expected me to be shallow and vain. Maybe it wasn’t all about me being an actress, the way I took it. Maybe he feels that way about all women these days.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “He did not accuse you of such a thing! Of all the unmitigated gall. He hardly even knows you. There’s not a shallow, vain bone in your body.”

Samantha sighed at the surprisingly ardent defense. “I don’t know about that. In my business I do spend a lot of time looking in the mirror and fretting over wrinkles.”

“But that’s just the business you’re in,” Emily said, loyally waving off the suggestion. “You don’t judge
other
people by those standards. You’d never look down on someone who’s not perfect.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Samantha agreed, thinking of that one moment when she’d gotten a real glimpse of vulnerability in Ethan’s eyes. He’d expected to be judged or, worse, to be pitied. She couldn’t imagine any man wanting pity, but for someone who’d demonstrated so much courage, it would be even more humiliating.

And Ethan, who’d once caught her attention with his charm, good looks and football prowess, was courageous. She had no doubts about that. Even in this morning’s brief encounter, she’d realized the kind of strength it must have taken for him not only to survive his injury, but to move forward, to not accept limitations. In her view, that made him someone to be admired, and lifted her old secret crush to a whole new level.

Even so, she scowled at her sister. “Do not put me in that position again,” she said flatly. “Ethan and I are adults. We’re bound to run across each other in the next couple of weeks with all the wedding hoopla. We don’t need you and Boone manufacturing excuses to throw us together. Understood?”

“Okay, fine,” Emily conceded unhappily. “I was just trying to do something nice.”

“The only way you could have been any more obvious would have been to send him over there with a big fat bow around his neck and a sign that said Keep Me.”

Even as the words came out of her mouth, Samantha caught the worrisome gleam in her sister’s eyes. “Oh no, you don’t. Your meddling days are over.”

“If you say so,” Emily replied dutifully. “But just so you know, I’m an amateur. The real pro, Grandmother, hasn’t even gotten started.”

And that, Samantha thought wearily, was scarier than just about anything else her sister could have said.

* * *

Cora Jane took one look at the sight of Ethan Cole and Greg Knotts walking into Castle’s and slipped into the kitchen and called Emily.

“Have you finished with the dress fitting?” she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“About five minutes ago,” Emily said. “Why? And why are you whispering?”

“Because I don’t want anyone to overhear me,” Cora Jane said.

“Uh-oh,” her granddaughter said, chuckling. “What is it you don’t want Jerry to hear?” she asked pointedly, referring to Castle’s longtime cook who was now courting Cora Jane. “What are you up to?”

“Stop asking so many questions,” Cora Jane ordered. “Just pack up your sister and get over here to the restaurant.”

“Hold on,” Emily muttered. Seconds later, she was back on the line. “Does this have something to do with Ethan Cole? Is he at Castle’s?”

“Just walked in,” Cora Jane confirmed. “Now, will you get Samantha over here, or do I need to get Gabriella involved?”

To her annoyance, Emily laughed. “What’s so funny?” Cora Jane demanded.

“Not a half hour ago I promised Samantha I’d stop meddling, but I warned her that you hadn’t even gotten into the game yet.”

“Well, now I see my chance,” Cora Jane said. “Can you do this, or do I need to call and tell her I’ve slipped on the kitchen floor and think I might have broken my hip?”

“Heaven forbid!” Emily said fervently. “I’ll get her over there. You just keep Ethan from getting away.”

“Not a problem,” Cora Jane said, “even if I have to sacrifice Castle’s reputation for fast service to accomplish it. The man may not get his meal for an hour. Hurry up, honey bun. I don’t want him to get too suspicious.”

“Something tells me that ship has already sailed,” Emily said. “But we’ll be there as quickly as I can round up Samantha and get her out the door. She seems just a little obsessed with playing with the baby. I think her biological clock started ticking the second she picked up Daniella Jane. Frankly, I recognize the signs, because that kid does the same thing to me.”

“All the more reason to see that Samantha and Ethan fall head over heels for each other by the time you and Boone head off on your honeymoon,” Cora Jane said.

She hung up on Emily, found the server assigned to Ethan’s table and warned her to take her time placing their order, then plastered a smile on her face and walked over to say hello.

“Good to see you, Greg,” she said to Ethan’s companion. “Ethan, I have to say I’m surprised to see you here. Did you finally come by for that meal I promised you after you took such good care of Rory Templeton and helped him get the rehab he needed so he could go back to work?”

Ethan gave her a sour look. “I’m here because I lost a bet,” he admitted.

Greg grinned. “I outran him,” he explained. “The man’s so arrogant, he didn’t think I stood a chance.”

Cora Jane chuckled. “Well, whatever brings you by, I’m happy to see you, though I imagine you’ll be around quite a lot over the next couple of weeks.”

“That seems to be the plan,” Ethan said, clearly not overjoyed about it.

“What he meant to say, Cora Jane, is that he’s looking forward to the wedding,” Greg interpreted. “We’re still working on his manners now that he’s back in polite society.”

“Bite me,” Ethan murmured in an undertone, though he managed a contrite look for Cora Jane’s benefit. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize on my account. I’ve heard plenty worse. Now, tell me, has your waitress taken your order?”

“She has,” Greg said cheerfully. “She told us it should be right out.”

Cora Jane nodded. “Let me check on it. The kitchen’s been pretty backed up today. I’ll have her refresh your drinks while you’re waiting.”

As she was walking away, she overheard Ethan say, “She’s up to something. You mark my words.”

No sooner had he made the statement than he added, his tone a mix of triumph and dismay, “And there she is now!”

Cora Jane turned in time to see Samantha being nudged along by Emily, Samantha’s expression just as dour as Ethan’s.

“Well, look who’s here!” Emily said cheerfully. “Mind if we join you, Ethan?”

Without waiting for a response, she pulled two chairs up to the table and gestured for Samantha to sit in one of them.

“I’m going to wash my hands,” Samantha said, stalking off.

Cora Jane intercepted her as she headed, instead, straight for the front door. Samantha whirled on her.

“Don’t think I don’t know you’re behind this,” she said irritably. “I heard enough of that call you made to Emily to know she was up to something. What I can’t figure out is why she’d take the chance of me strangling her not a half hour after I’d told her to stay out of my personal life. You must have been very persuasive.”

“We just love you, honey bun,” Cora Jane soothed. “We want you to be happy.”

“Shoving me down the throat of a man who’s not the least bit interested is not the way to accomplish that.”

“Oh, posh!” Cora Jane said. “Of course he’s interested. You didn’t see the way his eyes lit up when you walked in the door just now. I did.”

“What you saw, if anything, were sparks of anger over the meddling,” Samantha told her.

“I know what I saw,” Cora Jane insisted. “And you don’t want to offend the best man and create tension before your sister’s wedding, do you? Now, go on over there and be nice.”

“Is that an order?” Samantha asked.

Cora Jane leveled a look into her eyes. “Does it need to be?” she inquired, holding her granddaughter’s gaze.

Samantha finally sighed. “I’ll go, but I won’t like it.”

Cora Jane knew it wasn’t smart, but she couldn’t help chuckling. “You sounded exactly like that when you were a toddler and we forced you to do something you didn’t think you wanted to do.”

“If you’re trying to insult me by suggesting I’m behaving like a child, I don’t much care.”

“Actually I was just trying to remind you that in just about every one of those instances, we turned out to be right and you had yourself a good time.” She touched Samantha’s cheek with a soothing caress. “I’m doubting this will be an exception, unless you work hard at making it one.”

“This is the one and only tiny bit of slack I’m going to cut you,” Samantha warned. “I will not cave in again.”

“Of course not,” Cora Jane said, wisely hiding a smirk this time. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Samantha gave her a suspicious look, then headed back to the table where Ethan looked only slightly less irritated than she did. Oh well, Cora Jane thought, relationships had started with far less in common than mutual annoyance at a third party.

Satisfied, she returned to the kitchen, where Jerry turned from the stove and frowned at her. “I thought the only pot-stirring going on around here was supposed to be in the kitchen.”

“You do your stirring. I’ll do mine,” she retorted.

“One of these days your meddling is going to blow up in your face,” he warned. “Those girls of yours are independent thinkers, just the way you taught them to be.”

“Well, of course they are,” she said proudly. “It doesn’t mean that one of them can’t use a nudge from me from time to time. I don’t hear Emily or Gabi complaining, now that their lives are just about settled.”

“Samantha’s a different kettle of fish,” he warned. “So is Ethan Cole. Remember, I was with you the day you threw out the first bit of bait a few months ago. He didn’t bite. In fact, he made his lack of interest pretty clear. You might need to reassess your target and your tactics.”

Cora Jane shook her head. “I know what I know,” she insisted. “I’ve known Ethan since he was a boy. Those two are perfect for each other. They just have to get out of their own way and things will fall right into place.”

“I hope you’re right,” Jerry said, regarding her tenderly. “I know how badly you want this to work out. You’re convinced if they do, you’ll finally have all your girls back here in Sand Castle Bay and a dozen great-grandbabies underfoot eventually.”

“And what would be wrong with that?”

“Not a thing. I just hope you haven’t misjudged the situation this time.”

Cora Jane heard the genuine worry in his voice, and though she’d never in a million years admit it, he gave her pause. Jerry didn’t meddle, but he was a keen observer, especially of her and the granddaughters she loved. Could he have gotten it right? Were Samantha and Ethan a bad match? Or were they both so stubborn they’d fight fate just to spite her?

She thought about it, then thought some more, considering what she’d just seen with her own eyes. No, she concluded. Ethan and Samantha were every bit as destined to be together as Emily and Boone had been or Gabi and Wade. She was sure of it.