Summer on Lovers' Island (Jewell Cove 3)

“I brought you some cinnamon

rolls,” she said, holding out the box.

They were his favorite. It irked him that she knew it.

He didn’t take them. “Are they to cushion the bad news?”

“Bad news?” She pulled her hands back in, retracted the offer, holding them now while her face took on an entirely too-innocent, confused look.

He dipped his brush again and scrubbed with renewed vigor. “I know who was in town, Lizzie. When are you leaving?”

“What?”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer.

He put down the brush, measured his breath. He’d been thinking about her all afternoon, ever since Sarah had gone home. He knew his sister meant well, but she’d poked her nose into his business again and he wished she hadn’t. That stupid travel mug, an insignificant detail, but Sarah picked up on it. Knew it was Lizzie’s, knew he’d shown up at the hospital at four thirty in the morning with it in his hand. Sarah had said with all the looks he and Lizzie had been sending each other over the summer, she figured he’d spent the night.

And she was concerned because she’d seen Lizzie with her old boss and it had sure looked like they were more than coworkers. Good old Sarah, looking out for her big brother Josh.

He’d kept his cool, thanked her for the concern but insisted it was nothing, and sent her on her way so he could stew about it in peace.

Hours later he was still stewing.

He couldn’t look at Lizzie, not yet. “Did he offer you your job back?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Does he want you back?”

A pause. “Yes,” she replied.

“And when do you leave? I’ll have to advertise for another replacement.”

She came forward and put the bakery box down on the ground, a few feet away from him. “I never said I was leaving.”

He finally faced her, hoping to God he wasn’t giving himself away by doing so. That day on the island, when they’d argued, he’d known their brief … whatever was over. He’d known today was coming. But it still hurt. He’d wanted to believe in her. He’d cared. He’d started to feel things he hadn’t felt before.

But he’d be damned if he’d be the second stringer, the alternate in whatever game she was playing.

“Come on, Lizzie. Of course you are. All you’ve wanted since you got here was to get your job back. I know you’re bored to tears. And you sure as hell aren’t staying here for me.” It hurt to say, so he turned away again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find someone else for a few months.”

“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s what you’re going to say to me today?”

He swallowed, hard. “Was there something else?”

Lizzie gave a short, sharp laugh. “Listen, I know Sarah must have come by to see you. I’m guessing she knows about us. She probably also misinterpreted what she saw. I just wanted to explain.”

Josh clenched his teeth. “What’s to explain? When did he get here?” Josh wasn’t even sure why he asked. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Ian what’s-his-name.

“He was waiting for me when I got home last night. Then he stayed at the inn and we met for breakfast. I told him I needed time to think.”

Josh let out a short laugh. “Sweetheart, we both know that him staying at the inn means nothing. It’s just appearances. And you’re always very conscious of that, aren’t you?”

She looked as if he’d struck her. “You’re being a bastard.”

“Self-preservation, sweetheart.”