on. You’ve gone straight from a single look to divorce in sixty seconds.”
“Every divorce begins with a single look. Never forget that.”
“No chance while I’m hanging around with you. When is this cynicism going to die?”
“Never. It’s keeping me safe.”
“It’s keeping you single.”
“Same thing.”
Ryan shook his head. “I thought you came here to heal.”
“I came here to work.”
But Ryan knew that wasn’t the whole story. For plenty of people, Puffin Island was a sanctuary. It was the reason Lisa had chosen to uproot two small children in an attempt to build a new life. It was the reason Brittany had offered her cottage to Emily.
It was a place where wounds could heal, bathed by the beauty of nature.
Some wounds, he thought. Not all.
He saw Emily tighten her grip on Lizzy’s hand and linger at the edge of the beach as if she were about to step into a pit of alligators. Her anxiety was almost painful to witness. He wanted to stride across the sand, fold her into his arms and stand between her and the sea. It was as if she were frozen.
Another panic attack?
Remembering how she’d been that day Lizzy had wandered onto the beach, Ryan cursed under his breath.
“Damsel in distress,” Alec said flatly, “the most dangerous kind of all. They wait for you to show your soft side, and then they go in for the kill.”
Ryan didn’t think there was a single part of himself that could be classed as “soft” right at that moment. And he knew that nothing his friend had said applied to Emily. “That isn’t what’s happening here.”
The water was her phobia.
The fact that she was here, facing up to the thing she feared most, simply increased his respect for her.
Shit.
“It’s my job to greet guests, so I’m going over there—”
“Of course you are. Since that was always going to be the outcome, you should have done it five minutes ago.”
Ryan ground his teeth. “Next time we’re out in the boat, I hope the beam cracks your skull.”
“I’m not the one who needs a smack round the head.”
“You can stay here growling if you like, but I’m going to be sociable.”
“You mean you’re going to see if there’s any chance comfort could lead to grateful sex.”
Ryan gave a half smile. “Brittany asked me to look out for a friend in trouble. That’s what I’m doing.”
Part of him recognized that he might be the one in trouble, but he decided to ignore that along with the speculative look from Alec.
He strolled across the sand, checking everyone had what they needed and that there were no problems simmering. South Beach was one of the best beaches for swimming on the island, a curve of sand where the sea shelved gently and lacked the strong undertows characteristic of other parts of the island. One end of the beach was rocky, but those large gray slabs of granite provided a perfect platform for jumping into the water. Some of the braver individuals were swimming, their shrieks cutting through the air as they dipped into the cold waters of the Atlantic. Ryan might have joined them if it hadn’t been for the woman hovering on the edge of the party. He’d put two of the guys who worked behind the bar on lifeguard duty. Kirsti was handing out drinks and welcoming people with her own individual brand of warmth that involved a significant amount of matchmaking.
As Ryan walked past her, she handed him a couple of extra beers from a bucket brimming with ice and winked.
He took the beers, ignored the wink and joined Skylar and Emily.