Wind Chime Café (A Wind Chime Novel) (32 page)

His voice cut through the empty dining room. “Blake Hadley is Taylor’s father.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. And there was nothing she could do to deny it. “Yes.”

“Blake Hadley,” Will repeated, a muscle in his jaw starting to tick. “The man who wants to buy my inn and turn it into a resort?”

When he put it that way, it didn’t sound good. It didn’t sound good at all. “Yes.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

“What?” Annie stammered.

He took another step toward her. “Is that why you moved here? To
this
island?”

“Will,” Della warned, but he didn’t even look at her. His eyes never left Annie’s face.

“No.” Annie shook her head. “Of course, not. I didn’t even know the Hadleys had bought Morningstar until a couple of weeks ago.”

“But you
did
know?”

He was so close now she could feel the anger vibrating off him in waves. She had never seen him like this before. “Yes, but—”

“Is this how you two play it?” he cut in, his words like ice. “You move here first, get to know the locals, butter up the owner, maybe even sleep with him so he agrees to sell. Then Blake comes in when you can’t close the deal?”

Annie jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t believe I fell for it.”

“How dare you?” Annie breathed as shock gave way to anger. “How dare you accuse me of trying to seduce you? I didn’t ask for this! I never even wanted this! Whatever this”—she waved her hand between them—“even is!”

Will’s eyes were cold. “A lapse in judgment, on my part.”

Annie staggered back, as if he’d punched her in the stomach. She could only stare as he turned, his long strides eating up the checkerboard tiles. “You’re not even going to give me a chance to explain?”

He paused, his hand on the door. “Why should I? You’ll only tell me half the story anyway.”

Annie watched him leave, watched him walk down the steps as the screen door slapped shut. How could he think so little of her? After everything they’d shared, how could he believe she would do this?

A voice inside her screamed not to go after him, but this wasn’t just about her anymore.

“Will, wait.” She walked out to the porch, her hands gripping the railing as he crossed the street to his car. “Don’t do this. Taylor won’t understand.”

Will turned, his gaze hard and unforgiving in the fading twilight. “I’m sure Taylor would rather spend time with her father.”

Blake stood at
the window of his hotel room overlooking the St. Michaels Marina. Sailboats bobbed in the quiet waters. Historic homes lined the quaint neighborhood streets stretching away from the shoreline. A few tourists strolled the grounds of the Maritime Museum, snapping pictures of the lighthouse at dusk.

After the initial shock had worn off, it hadn’t taken him long to realize that Annie Malone could be the answer to all of his problems. Not only was she still single—he’d noted from the lack of a ring on her finger—but she was the mother of his child.

He could hardly believe his luck.

It would take some explaining, some serious finessing on his part, to convince both his parents and Annie that it had all been a terrible misunderstanding, that he would never have let her go if he’d known she was planning to keep their child. But he’d find a way to spin it.

He always found a way to spin it.

Rocking back on his heels, he gazed across the marina at the weathered crab deck where a few hearty diners were huddled around a picnic table, picking the last steamed crabs of the season. Surely Annie didn’t want to work as a waitress for the rest of her life. And she couldn’t possibly have
chosen
to live on that island.

As soon as things were smoothed out between them, he would talk her into coming back to New Orleans with him. He would set her and their daughter up a beautiful home in the Garden District. His mother would come by daily to dote on her grandchild, and his father would have no choice but to give him his job back and forgive all his debts.

Everyone would get what they wanted.

Turning away from the window, he walked to the desk and picked up the phone. If, for any reason, Annie refused, he could always threaten her with a custody battle. He had a feeling she would do anything to keep her child, even if it meant marrying a man who she thought had never loved her.

Dialing the front desk, he waited for the receptionist to answer. All he had to do now was convince her that he had.

“Good evening, Mr. Hadley. How can I help you?”

“I need a reservation for two at seven o’clock at the nicest restaurant in town, and the phone number for the Wind Chime Café on Heron Island.”

W
hat the hell happened to you?” Colin asked when Will walked into the inn three hours later.

Will dropped a bag of takeout from Wendy’s on the kitchen counter. “I went for a drive.”

Riley came up and sniffed his hand, wagging her tail. He fed her a French fry on his way to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Will.”

He stiffened at the female voice, but it was only Becca. She was sitting on the couch in the living room with Ryan, a pile of food spread out on the table in front of them.

“I had to call in reinforcements since you left me here without a car.” Colin took the beer from his hand and popped the cap off with an opener. He handed it back, eyeing the Wendy’s bag. “I thought you were picking up dinner from the café?”

“I was.” Will took a long sip. From the expression on Becca and Ryan’s faces, he could tell that they knew. Della had probably called them and asked them to check up on him since he wouldn’t pick up any of her calls. But they must not have said anything to Colin.

Good. He didn’t want to discuss it with Colin. He’d already made up his mind anyway. It had taken almost three hours behind the wheel to calm down, but for the first time since coming back to the island over a month ago, he was finally beginning to think clearly.

Getting involved with Annie had been a mistake.

Walking across the living room to the chair beside the sofa, he sank into the worn leather. Ryan’s chocolate lab, Zoey, was curled up on the rug waiting for someone to drop a piece of food on the floor. He tossed her a fry and glanced over at the TV. “Who’s winning?”

“The Red Sox are up by two,” Ryan said, handing him a basket of clam strips.

“Who’s pitching?”

“Lackey.”

Will sat back, focusing on the game. If tonight was going to be his last night in this house, he might as well try to enjoy it.

Colin continued to watch him from across the room. When Will didn’t say anything else about where he’d been or why he hadn’t picked up dinner from the café, Colin wandered over to sit in the chair on the other side of the sofa. “I told Ryan about the eco-resort.”

Will popped a clam strip into his mouth, glancing over at Ryan. “What do you think?”

“I’ve never stayed at one,” Ryan said, “but I’ve heard good things.”

“Do you think you’d be able to work with them on some of your projects—the ones you need volunteers for?”

“Sure.” Ryan nodded. “I imagine most of the people who stay at a resort like that aren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty. They might be interested in helping out, or at least learning about what’s going on in the area to preserve the environment. A place like that could bring all kinds of potential donors to the island.” He broke off a piece of fried fish, dipping it into a bowl of tartar sauce. “I’m not going to lie. I’m intrigued. Are you considering it?”

“I’m signing the papers tomorrow.”

“What?” Becca sat up. “Why?”

Will slipped Riley a clam strip. “I came back to sell this house. I got a good offer. I’m taking it.”

Becca set her plate down, turning to face him. “You don’t have to do this, Will. You don’t have to sell this house if you’re not ready. There are other options you might not have even considered.”

“Yeah,” Colin added, looking just as surprised as Becca. “One option is that
you
could stay here and run this place.”

“Just because I grew up in an inn, doesn’t mean I know how to run one.” Will stood, gathering the empty bottles and carrying them over to the sink. “Besides, my life is in San Diego.”

“But it doesn’t have to be forever,” Becca argued. “This is your home, Will. You need a place to come back to when—”

Will dumped the bottles into the sink, drowning out the sound of her voice. No. He didn’t need to come back here. He should never have stayed on the island as long as he had. It was time to go back to California, to refocus his mind on the teams, to shed all the complications that were only holding him back from moving on.

Colin twisted around to face him. “What about all the time you spent fixing up this place? Don’t you want to keep looking for another buyer until you have to leave?”

Will shook his head. “The resort will bring jobs to the island. It’ll bring tourists. It’ll raise awareness for Ryan’s projects.”

“Don’t sell the inn on my account,” Ryan said. “I’d much rather know that you still had a tie to this island. That you might come back here one day.”

Becca nodded. “If you don’t want to run it, hire someone else to do it. But don’t sell it to Blake Hadley.”

“Why not?” Will asked. “Because he wouldn’t do a good job?”

“No,” Colin said, frustrated. “Because you love this house and you love that woman, and you’re going to lose them both if you walk away.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Will caught the flutter of orange wings over the kitchen table. Taylor’s paper butterfly hung from the chandelier, spinning in slow circles beside his sister’s chime. Taylor had given him the butterfly so he would remember the monarchs after they’d gone. But what was the point in holding onto the memories, when it was so much easier to let them go? “I’ve made up my mind.”

Annie stepped out
of her car in downtown St. Michaels, ducking her head against the winds. Street lamps illuminated the picturesque shops lining the street, many of them already decorated for Christmas. Maryland flags waved from porches and balconies as she made her way over the uneven brick sidewalk to the restaurant where Blake was waiting.