Chapter Seven
The day passed slowly, and Isaac wasn’t sure what to think anymore. He’d imagined yesterday that Cosette’s fun-loving personality was resurfacing, and he could in good conscience tell her father that he had waited until she was healed before moving in for the long-awaited kiss. Maybe some people would claim they’d only been together for a day, but he’d been smitten with her for over a dozen years.
Yet today she’d withdrawn. He’d obviously said and done something wrong on the run and swim. When he’d tried to draw her out as they ate her delicious omelets, and he’d told her a couple of times how cute it was that she was an innocent girl and wasn’t staring at or “ogling” every man’s chest, she’d clammed up. Women. What man could truly understand them?
She spent most of the day either typing on her laptop or cooking. She kept a smile on her face, but he could tell she wasn’t herself. Was it because of what she’d been through, or something Isaac had done? He fully appreciated the delicacies she whipped up, but when he asked if he could help, she refused, saying that she was sure he had lots he needed to be doing. Truthfully, he didn’t have much to occupy himself. He tidied the small house, which was already clean except for some sand they’d tracked in; he scrubbed the bathroom, washed the dishes, sterilized the kitchen, and then shook out the rugs and swept and mopped the tile floors.
He felt like he and Cosette had taken a step back, but he wasn’t sure why.
In the late afternoon, as she was working on a pasta for dinner, he went outside and raked up the fallen palm fronds, leaves, and branches from the trees and the last windstorm. It seemed impossible to imagine more than a slight breeze with the Caribbean waters so calm and the island so peaceful and beautiful, but he knew the last hurricane had wreaked intense havoc. Many parts of Puerto Rico and this island were still recovering.
Dinner was mostly quiet. Isaac complimented her on the delicious shrimp carbonara, Caesar salad, and fresh breadsticks, and he tried to draw her out with questions about her business and her friend Mar. Her answers were somewhat reserved. They’d definitely had a setback this morning. He should be relieved that he wouldn’t have to fall for her and then desert her when his leave was up, but all he could think was how stupid it was to waste this time together.
He insisted on cleaning up dinner. She nodded her thanks, used the bathroom, and then wandered outside. He kept an eye on her through the window as he rushed to clean up and store the leftovers. Thankfully, she stayed pretty close, but it was getting dark out there and he didn’t want her to be away from him. For security purposes and … other reasons.
As soon as he wiped up the counter, he hurried outside, not bothering with shoes or anything else. She stopped as she heard him coming and turned to him.
“Do you want to walk?” he asked.
“Sure.” She strode away from him, and he caught up. They walked a long stretch of the beach in silence and then turned and came back the other direction. It was a complete one-eighty from yesterday afternoon, when they’d sprinted the beach and laughed and talked and sprinted some more.
As they neared the house, he racked his brain for some excuse to not go to bed. He wanted her to talk to him. Before he could think of how to apologize for whatever he’d done, she said, “I’m sorry if I’ve been off today. I hope I haven’t been … moody.”
Isaac stopped, and she turned to him. “Is it because of Lansky?” he asked.
Her face showed surprise. “No, actually. I haven’t been thinking of him at all.”
“Oh.” So there was some other reason she was off? He waited, but she didn’t expound. It was like she was trying to tell him something in code.
Wait. A light bulb went on in his slow, man brain. Could it be girl stuff? His sisters were seven and nine years younger than him. He hadn’t been around for Rachel’s and Eve’s teenage years, but he’d heard enough complaining from Seth and Caleb to know they got moody and emotional at times.
“I apologize if I did something wrong,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t really know to act around … girls.”
Her gaze sharpened on him. Even in the deepening twilight, he could see her dark blue gaze was sharp, almost sparking. “Girls?”
“Well, yeah. Girls.” He gestured to her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She folded her arms across her chest and glowered at him. “No, there’s nothing you can do to help.” Rolling her eyes, she muttered, “Girls. Not women, but girls?” Her voice had a definite tremble in it now.
Oh, wow. He did not want to upset her. Isaac splayed his hands, praying for diplomacy. That wasn’t really his specialty, though. Give him some insurgents to hunt down any day over talking things out. “Look, I hang out with a bunch of guys all day every day. We’re the furthest thing from politically correct. I’m sorry if I’m not saying this right. I would never want to offend you, and I know you’ve been through something hard with a man, and I know I am probably messing this all up, but—”
She held up a hand. “It’s fine, Isaac. It’s not your fault. Really, it isn’t. But if all you see me as is agirl…” She shook her head and blinked quickly. “Then there’s not a lot we have to talk about anyway.”
She gave him one more fake smile, then turned and pushed through the softer sand. She quickly climbed the porch steps, wiped her feet on the mat, and walked into the house. Isaac watched through the glass as she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and then disappeared into her bedroom.
He passed a hand over his face. What had just happened? He shouldn’t see her as a girl? What did she want him to see her as? She was a beautiful girl, woman, whatever, and he saw her all the time. He even saw her when he closed his eyes. Shaking his head, he wondered what to make of her obvious frustrations with him, even though she’d tried to act like all was well. She’d seen him as a man too, and he knew it. She’d stared at his chest when she’d come out of the bathroom. Other times, he’d caught her looking at him with longing in her gaze.
Women. Girls. He definitely couldn’t decipher them. Why should he even want to be with a moody, unexplainable woman anyway? He pushed out a breath. Because it was Cosette. He’d been half in love with her as a teenager. Now he was getting pushed the rest of the way. Yet she obviously wasn’t returning the favor.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to read the caller ID. Blaine. Great. Not who he wanted to talk to right now.
“Jewel,” Isaac said in greeting.
“Isaac,” Blaine said warmly. “Everything okay there?”
Depended on your version of okay. “Quiet,” he muttered. “No worries.”
“How’s Cosette?”