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ChapterFour

Delaney’s hands twisted nervously in her lap, her eyes fixed downward instead of out of the cockpit or on the man seated next to her. The space was too small, the man too large for her comfort. Damn her irrational fear of boats and the water. She should have taken the ferry and used the time to prepare herself for seeing Ethan again.

She thought she had planned for this moment, ready for anything this week would throw at her. Boy, had she been mistaken. Even as she had driven up here, a niggling sense of doubt had prodded her mind and had her wondering if Caroline would dare try to play matchmaker. Never in her wildest dreams did she think Ethan would be the one to fly her to Whitby Island.

She glanced over at Ethan, his confident hands controlling the plane, eyes focused on the horizon. Sure and steady, the complete opposite of her dramatic mother and hyperactive father. That had always attracted her to him. Her house had sometimes felt like a zoo where the animals ran free with no zookeeper, except for her. When things got too rough, she had had Caroline and then Ethan. Caroline never judged, but always supported her. Ethan made her feel loved and wanted. When her life went to shit and chaos reigned, she couldn’t drag him down, too.

The plane jerked, turbulence, and she clenched her hands tighter. Ethan reached over and covered her hands with one of his, the heat warm and comforting. He gave a brief squeeze.

“Relax. I’ve been flying for almost five years now. Trust me.” Then he laughed, a rough, raw sound that had her turning to face him. He took his hand back and shrugged. “I forgot. You’re not much on the trust thing.”

She sighed. It was going to be like that. She placed a hand on his arm. “Ethan, you don’t understand.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t understand. I didn’t back then, and I don’t now. But I’m not having this discussion while I’m trying to fly this plane. In fact, I might never have this discussion. Got it? You made your feelings pretty damn clear five years ago.”

Bitterness laced his tone, adding a bite to the words that tore at Delaney.

She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Ethan, I’m sorry. I know I’ve never said...”

“What part of not talking about this right now didn’t you understand?”

His head whipped around to face her, jaw clenched. She itched to take off his sunglasses, to see his eyes, but she instinctively knew his gaze would blaze as hot as the sunlight they were flying into. She folded her hands in her lap and studied them, not looking up. His scent curled around her in the small cockpit, musk and sweat, a smell she never thought she’d experience again.

She had kept an old sweatshirt of his, one she’d packed after their last trip to the island and had forgotten to give to him. It hadn’t been washed and his scent was all over the shirt. At night, when the battling over the media and her father’s court case had gotten too bad, the reality too much to bear, the pain of losing him like a knife in her heart, she had taken it out of her closet and curled up in her bed with it, wrapping it around her, imagining it was his arms that held her, not an inanimate shirt. She still had it, the scent long gone now. But it was still her comfort, a teddy bear she clung to like a toddler with a security blanket. It had been a rag back then, a comfy sweatshirt, but time had only made it more raggedy, more worn and frayed. It was her one last connection to her old life, her one anchor in her new reality.

Maybe someday she would be able to get rid of it. Not need the comfort it provided.

His eyes pierced the silence, and she turned her head but only saw the mirrored glasses. No clue what he was thinking. She shook her head slightly, focusing on the present, willing the past to fade. If only it were that easy.

“Did you say something?”

A slight smile crossed his face. “I asked if you had been back to the island since graduation.”

“No. I’ve been a little busy.” The words came out sharper than intended and she softened her tone. “I didn’t have a reason. You?”

He shrugged. “A few times, but only for weekends. We sold our house out there. Kira never liked it. Not exclusive enough.” His mouth grimaced when he said his stepmother’s name.

“What was she looking for? Half the island is a gated community, and the other half is a mixture of wildlife sanctuary and the village.”

“You know Kira. She wants to be seen and admired. Whitby doesn’t offer that.”

“I always liked that about the island.” She spoke softly, tentatively, as if she were imparting a secret that she wasn’t sure she should share. “It was the one place we could all relax.”

“In the safety of a gated community,” he reminded her.

“Safety? I think it’s more dangerous there in some ways. But we always were free to do what we wanted without guidelines, protocols. It was... freeing.”

He cocked his head and glanced over. “I never knew you felt that way.”

She focused her stare on her clenched fists. “I didn’t either. I only knew how much I loved the summers on the island. I wonder if it’s changed, or if we’ve changed too much?”

He faced the horizon, jaw clenching. “Everyone changes.”

“Exactly,” she replied.

When he didn’t say anything more, she turned and looked out the passenger window, tears that had nothing to do with the bright sunshine blinding her to the view of the island. She took a deep, shuddering breath, hoping he wouldn’t notice her emotions, then glanced in the back of the plane. “What’s in the crates? Hermitage Vines?”

For the first time since she’d seen him, he smiled, a genuine smile full of pride and satisfaction. “They’re mine. I own it. Caroline likes my white wines and asked me to provide all the wine for her wedding.”


Tags: Megan Ryder Romance