She stepped away from the wall, willing her queasiness to ease. She didn’t have time for illness. This was a trip she’d needed to make for a long time, and she’d planned to complete her mission in a quick and dirty fashion. Because of her impulsiveness with Marc Kavanaugh five weeks ago, her desire to take care of business and get out of Harbor Town as soon as possible only intensified by the hour.
She forced a smile and walked with Eric toward his sedan.
“Were you one of the daredevils who used to jump off Silver Dune? It’s got to be a forty-foot drop to the bay,” she reflected as Eric unlocked the passenger door of his car. In her mind’s eye, she pictured her summertime best friend Colleen Kavanaugh leaping off the tall dune without a backward glance, her long blond hair streaming out behind her like a golden cape.
Mari had always been a little in awe of the Kavanaughs’ fearlessness. All the children had seemed to possess that indefinable, elusive quality that Mari thought of as American royalty—the golden, effortless beauty, the easy confidence and quick smile, the love of a dare, a fierce temper and an even fiercer loyalty to those they loved.
“It’s fifty feet, actually,” Eric replied once she was seated in the car. He shut her door and came around to the driver’s side. After he flipped the ignition, he immediately turned the air conditioning on high to cool the stifling interior. “And yeah, I took the leap plenty of times in my day.”
Took the leap.
Mari had only had the nerve to leap once in her life. She still could see Marc staring down at her, his mouth quirked in a sexy, little smile even as the rest of his features were softened in compassion for her fear.
Stop thinking so much, Mari. Just jump.
She had jumped, back when she was eighteen years old. It’d been the summer her parents had been killed.
Foolishness had caused her to take a similar reckless leap five weeks ago in Chicago. As a thirty-three-year-old woman, Mari hardly had the excuse of a girlhood infatuation any longer, yet something fluttered in her belly as she clearly recalled Marc pinning her with the blazing blue eyes as he fused their flesh. She heard his desire-roughened voice in her ear.
I’ve waited for this for fifteen years, Mari.
She clenched her eyelids shut and placed her hand on her stomach, not to soothe her nausea this time, but to calm the thrill of excitement and wonder the memory evoked. When she opened her eyes, she saw Eric’s curious glance raking over her.
“So are you going to keep me in suspense or what?” he asked as he pulled onto Route 6.
“What do you mean?” she asked warily, still under the influence of the carnal memory.
Eric gave her a bewildered glance. “I’m wondering what you think of the property, Mari.”
“Oh!” She laughed in relief. For a second there, she’d thought those physician’s eyes of his had x-rayed straight into her skull and read her thoughts. “I do like the office space. Very much. It’s in a private area, and I love all the sunlight. It’s nice that it’s so close to the woods and the lake. There’s plenty of room for The Family Center to grow as we get new funding and programs. Thank you so much for doing all the preliminary groundwork before I got here, Eric. You and Natalie have done a hundred times more than I’d expected.”
“It wasn’t that much, especially with all the research and ideas you sent us. Plus, you’d already compiled most of the paperwork for the state.”
“Most people will think I’m nuts for doing this—a cello player opening up a facility for victims of substance abuse,” she muttered.
Eric’s dark brows quirked upward. “Good thing the Reyes aren’t most people then.”
Mari smiled. Of course the Reyes weren’t most people. Eric and Natalie had been just as impacted by the effects of substance abuse as Mari and her brother, Ryan, had.
And the Kavanaughs…
It’d been fifteen years since a drunk Derry Kavanaugh, Marc’s father, had gotten behind the wheel of his car. Marc’s father had caused a three-way crash that night, killing himself, both of Mari’s parents and Eric’s mother. The accident had left Eric’s sister, Natalie, scarred—damage both physical and psychological.
This was the old wound that Mari had felt compelled to return to Harbor Town and try to heal. Not just for herself or Eric or Natalie or Marc, but for anyone who had ever been impacted by the devastating effects of substance abuse.
Eric grabbed her hand as he drove. “Nat and I are right here in Harbor Town, and we’re one hundred percent behind you on this. Are you sure you don’t need any of the money from the lawsuit? Do you really think it was the best idea to transfer all of it over to a trust for The Family Center?”
“Of course I’m sure. You know I’ve planned to start this project with money from the lawsuit for years now. I never could touch that fund for anything
else. It just seemed like—” she paused, trying to find the right words “—that money was meant for something bigger than me. I just haven’t had the time to get things moving until now. Besides, I’m selling the house on Sycamore Avenue. That’ll give Ryan and me a nice nest egg.”
She glanced out the window at the rows of perfectly maintained lakeside cottages. Each and every one looked to be occupied with vacationers. The population of Harbor Town swelled in the summer months.
She smiled wistfully as she watched a little girl with a dark ponytail run around the corner of a house. She’d sported a pink bikini and an inflatable green dragon around her waist.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever have the time I need to do what needs to be done,” she murmured.
Eric wiggled her hand in his before he let go. “You know what I think you need? I think you need a little fun and relaxation, Harbor Town-style.”