Summer on Lovers' Island (Jewell Cove 3)

“I hate it when you do that.”

Charlie never cracked a smile. “Do what?”

“That whole silent treatment thing.”

Still, Charlie kept her head against the back of the seat and let the light bathe her face. “Liz, you said you don’t want to talk about it. So I’m not. You’re a big girl. It’s none of my business.”

“Argh!” Lizzie’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “You know I can see through everything you’re saying or doing, right?”

Finally Charlie smiled. “Of course. Just like I know it’s driving you insane.”

To demonstrate the point, she went quiet once more.

“Fine,” Lizzie finally said, setting the cruise control. “I put it out there. The ground rules, like we talked about that weekend we packed up the house.”

“What happened?” Charlie looked over at her again. Lizzie couldn’t see her eyes, but she could tell Charlie was intrigued.

“He turned me down flat.”

Lizzie didn’t feel the need to mention that they’d had mind-blowing sex at the summit of Lovers’ Island first. It turned out there were a few things she didn’t share with her best friend.

“Turned you down? Are you serious?” Finally Charlie’s head came away from the back of the seat.

The rejection still stung, and at first Lizzie had thought it was just her pride talking. But it wasn’t all that. And it wasn’t just the knowledge that she’d hurt Josh, either, though she felt terrible about that. She was hurting, too. She missed him. Missed joking with him, talking to him, knowing he was there if she needed to vent. She kept going back to that night on the beach when he’d held her in his arms. That scene stayed in the forefront of her memory far more than their sexual encounters.

It hadn’t been just sex for her, either. She’d merely told herself that.

So she looked over at Charlie for a moment, then fixed her eyes back on the road again. “It’s better now, anyway,” she replied. “It wasn’t just fun. We were starting to get emotionally involved. Josh is a keeper, Charlie. I’d only be wasting his time. He wants the white picket fence and wife and kids and that’s just not what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“What?”

Traffic was light and Lizzie put on her signal and pulled out to pass a car, then smoothly pulled back into her lane again.

“Liz, up until this week, you’ve been happier in Jewell Cove than I’ve seen you in a long time. But I think you’re scared. I think you want to be your father and you’re afraid you might be. It’s hard to be married to two loves. One of them inevitably becomes a mistress—the one you see when you can make time. I loved your parents, Lizzie, and I loved being in your home. But your mom was a mistress a lot of the time.”

“I know,” Lizzie whispered.

“And if you were honest with Josh, and with yourself, then maybe you did the right thing. But I’m not convinced you’ve been honest with yourself. Because that would mean turning things on their head and you’ve had a lot of that already this year.”

“You really should have specialized in psych, you know that?” But Lizzie’s tone was teasing. Charlie had a way about her, a way of getting to the heart of things without making Lizzie completely defensive.

“I see a lot of patients come through my door. I get to study people a lot, see what makes them tick. What stresses them out and makes them happy.”

“Sometimes I think I do a lot of stuff to prove that I’m happy whether I am or not,” Lizzie admitted.

“Well, at any rate, I’m sorry about you and Josh, though I understand it. Is everything okay at the office?”

“Perfect,” Lizzie responded, and Charlie laughed. “I sounded a little snippy there, didn’t I?” Lizzie asked.

“If I know Josh, he’s the model of efficiency and professionalism. He can hide his feelings quite well, too, you know.”

Except he’d let Lizzie in, she realized. He’d told her things about his marriage, about his life, that she was sure he hadn’t shared freely elsewhere. And that made her feel even worse.

They arrived at the home just after lunch. Lizzie had picked up some yarn at Treasures, just as she’d promised during her last visit. She also brought a few treats from the bakery, not knowing what might tempt her mom this time and hedging her bets. And then she prayed it was a good day.

It was not.