Summer on Lovers' Island (Jewell Cove 3)

Lizzie swallowed back a sigh. Josh had a lot of pride. She could relate to that. She wasn’t proud of a lot of things she’d said and done over the last several months. But she didn’t have the same regret as Josh. This was his wife. His marriage. And he could never have a do-over.

As he stared at the black water of the bay, Lizzie slid her arm off his arm and to his back, rubbing gently along his spine. “Josh, you put on a good face for everyone, don’t you?”

He shrugged beneath her hand, but she persistently left it where it was. “What good would it do,” he said bitterly, “to tell everyone the truth? She’s gone. I don’t want to be the guy who badmouths his dead wife. I might have been angry with her, I might have been hurt, but I never wanted her to die.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Lizzie’s heart melted, looking into his face, so closed against emotion. “And you don’t want anyone to think badly of her, because what’s the point, right? So you bottle all this inside and put on a smile for the world because Josh has to be the strong older brother and only son and town doctor and who knows what else.”

“Be careful,” he warned darkly, turning to face her, but she was glad of the spark of fire flickering in his eyes.

“You think I don’t see it? Come on, Josh. We’re more alike than you think. Russ Howard’s daughter who can’t make a mistake, who should look after her mother but keeps her in a home, who basically gets the boot from her job by her boss, who happens to be her ex? This is practically torture for a perfectionist like me.”

He pulled away. “I know all that,” he ground out. “You don’t need to keep reminding me that being in Jewell Cove is nothing more than a punishment for you!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Frustrated, Lizzie’s voice lifted a little. “Just tell me what you said, Josh. I promise you won’t go to hell or go up in flames or whatever it is you’re afraid of. Just say it and get it off your chest for once.”

“Fine.” He reached out and cupped her chin, lifting it a little so she had no choice but to look right in his eyes. “I told her she’d better decide who she was coming home to, and if it wasn’t me that she shouldn’t bother coming home at all.”

Despite her best intentions, Lizzie stepped back, away from his words, away from his touch. The pain and regret in his eyes seared her and she understood how much he must have hated himself all this time. What terrible, terrible last words to say to someone you loved. There was nothing Lizzie could say to make it better. It would just be platitudes. Of course he hadn’t meant it that way. It didn’t stop the remorse.

“See?” he accused. “You’re shocked. And you hardly know me.”

She knew him better than he realized, but she didn’t say so. They were already treading on shaky ground.

“I’m shocked because those words don’t sound like the person I’ve come to know these past weeks. And that tells me that you were hurt, and probably confused … and scared.”

She wished she hadn’t stepped back, and she made up for it by moving forward and putting her hand along his cheek. “I know what it’s like to be scared, Josh. To be afraid of losing what’s most important. Of not being good enough.” She swallowed and admitted, “Of being afraid you’ll never be good enough again.”

“Yes,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “But for me it was my heart.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re only talking about your job. But when you love someone, Lizzie, really love someone … you know what’s important. And it’s not a career or degree or a bank account balance or whatever. It comes down to who you are on the inside. What you think and how you treat people. And I’m not a very good person.”

She absorbed the insult because she knew that he was hurting. She also recognized a difficult truth in his words. She’d cared for Ian. She’d never loved him, not like that. She’d never loved anyone that way.

“You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. Certainly better than me,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb along Josh’s bottom lip. “But I’m thinking we could be good together, Josh. Because we see each other so clearly.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t know that I see you all that clearly at all. I think I know you and then you do something that doesn’t follow.”

She slid closer. “Like what, Josh?”

“Like I know you’re focused on career and advancement, and you don’t like small towns, and you prefer the city, and frankly, when you first got here you struck me as being a snob.”

It might have actually hurt, except for the soft, husky quality of his voice. It rather reminded her of the scene in Pride and Prejudice where Darcy professed his love to Elizabeth despite her flaws, his face only a whisper away. The difference was they weren’t even close to being in love. This was lust, pure and simple.

“And then you do other things, and I realize I was wrong about you.” His breath caught a little.

She stood up on tiptoe and, feeling quite bold, gave his earlobe a nibble. “Is that so?”

His breath came out shaky. “Jesus, Lizzie.”

She let her lips feather over the skin of his neck. “Things like what?” she asked.

“Things like the look on your face when you pull up a line of fish. The way you cry about your mother. The way…” He shuddered beneath her touch. “The way you look at me sometimes.”

“How do I look at you, Josh?”

The heat seemed to have gone up ten degrees in the last two minutes. Lizzie touched the hollow of his throat with her tongue, tasting the warm saltiness of his skin.