“What’s he like? Is he old with a big paunch and stinking rich?”
She laughed, but the image of Cole standing at her door with cake and wine stuck in her head and her heart gave a little thump. “He’s stinking rich, from what I gather. He’s maybe thirty-five? And quite good-looking.”
“Ooh. Some island romance in your future?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Yeah, and wouldn’t that be awkward. You don’t...you-know-what where you eat, Del. Besides, he’ll be here a bit and then have to go back to New York. That’s where his businesses are. He’ll only be on the island now and again.”
To her surprise, the thought made her a little lonely. She was used to having someone else for company. The summer hadn’t been that bad, because the weather had been great and she’d had the gardens to keep and her own vegetable plot. In the wintertime, though, she often got storm-stayed. During those times, she’d often gone up to the big house with Ernest and Marietta and they’d played cards and eaten great food and it had been more than pleasant. Her house was cozy as anything, but the thought of facing the winter without any company at all... Maybe she should consider finding an apartment or something in town. But how could she afford two places? Right now she was mortgage-free and the business was more than enough to keep her comfortable. But if she had to add a thousand a month or so to her bills, it would make things tight.
She sniffed a little. A thousand a month was probably Cole Abbot’s wine budget. Or whiskey, or scotch, or whatever pricey alcohol he drank. She’d looked up the wine he’d brought. She was used to the ten-to-twenty-dollar bottles. The one he’d brought had been sixty. She was saving it for a special occasion.
“So, young, rich, not a troll,” Delilah said, ticking each attribute off on her fingers. “Remind me again why you’re not making a move to tap that?”
Brooklyn snorted. “Thanks, Del, for getting right to the point.”
“Any time.” Her face softened, and she patted Brooklyn’s hand. “Look, I just want you to be happy. And I know you don’t need a man for that. I just worry that you... Well, you’ve closed yourself off to possibilities because of what happened.”
Del was one of the few people who really knew about Brooklyn’s trauma. Being a victim of a violent crime had changed Brooklyn, made her more wary and less trusting. Sure, she’d done all sorts of therapy and she was doing well. But she’d also built the life she wanted and didn’t like the disruption.
She’d had enough counseling to understand that she liked guarantees. She wasn’t a risk-taker, and in her mind, love was the biggest risk of all.
“It’s not that, Del.” She took a sip of her tea and sighed. “I mean, I’m not physically afraid of a relationship.” The assault hadn’t been sexual. It had been a straight up robbery, and looking back, it seemed like something from a movie. It certainly felt like it had happened to someone else. The fear had been cold and debilitating. The hard press of the gun dug into her ribs and she could still feel the painful grip of his big hand on her arm. For a few terrified moments, she’d been his hostage. But when he got into the car, she’d managed to scramble out the passenger side and he’d sped off. She’d been safe, yet forever altered.
“No, sweetie,” Delilah said gently. “You’re afraid of living. Everything happens in good time, but sometimes people come along that shake us up a bit.” She smiled. “Maybe this guy is going to shake you up.”
He already had. “He likes Marvin, and Marvin likes him back, the traitor,” she confessed. “Then again, pats and treats go a long way with dogs.”
Delilah grinned. “Not just with dogs. I’m partial to pats and treats myself.”
“Delilah!” Brooklyn started to laugh and put down her teacup. Delilah had been married to the same guy for fifteen years and they were still adorable together. “This is why I love you.”
“And here I thought it was because you get a bulk discount at the store.”
“I’m nicer than that.”
“I know that. I hope you do. Anyway, if this guy isn’t going to be on the island that much, why not have a thing or see where it goes? God knows you deserve it.”
Brooklyn had gone “home” to recover, really. The trauma from those five minutes in her life had resulted in crippling fear and panic. Life was much better now, but she didn’t like change. Didn’t want it.
Even one as sexy and intriguing as Cole Abbott.
When she returned home later that afternoon, she put her supplies in the house and took Marvin out for a walk on the beach so he could get a good romp in before the weather changed. The forecast called for rain later in the evening, and Brooklyn could feel the change in air pressure and humidity as she threw a stick of driftwood for Marvin. He was four now, and his energy level was still that of a puppy, though he definitely had more discipline. He came running back and dropped the stick at her feet, panting happily, eyes flashing as he waited for her to throw it again. She did, then walked on, the sharp wind buffeting her ponytail, pulling strands out to blow around her face, and puffing her jacket out behind her. The calm seas of earlier were now gray with little white caps. Tonight would be the perfect night to finish her shawl and then move on to holiday projects.
Delilah had given her food for thought. Not that she wanted to have a torrid affair or anything. It was more the reminder that she’d hidden herself away here.
She’d even withdrawn from her family. Her parents lived in Halifax, where her dad worked for a courier company and her mom was a nurse. Her brother and sister no longer lived in Nova Scotia; her sister was a geologist working in Alberta, and her brother an environmental engineer for a US company based out of Maryland. Brooklyn took the stick from Marvin and threw it again, watching him spin up sand as he chased after it. Brooklyn had been in her third year of her science degree when the assault happened. Then everything had changed.
She got to the end of the sandy stretch and climbed the path to the grassy expanse above. Darkening skies told her she should get home soon; she wasn’t keen on getting caught in the rain, especially with Marvin and his wet dog smell. She called for him to come and was answered with a bark that sounded farther away than she anticipated. Frowning, she directed her gaze toward the sound of the bark and saw Marvin’s golden coat running through the tall grass, headed toward Cole.
Not fair, considering Delilah’s words still echoed in her head. Hopefully she could remain cool and detached and not blush.
Cole lifted a hand in greeting, and Marvin bounced and danced beside him.
“My dog is incredibly undisciplined,” she said as he approached. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Marvin’s great. I wish I’d had a dog as a kid. My folks said no because they are dirty and then pets aren’t allowed in dormitories.”
“Even for rich kids?”