Being with him had taught her she still had the ability to love deeply, but now she had to learn to switch it off again.
“I won’t compromise Lizzy’s happiness for sex. Even clothes-ripping, mind-blowing, wild animal sex.”
“That’s what it was to you?”
“Of course.”
For a moment she thought he was going to say something else, but then he stepped back, his face expressionless.
“In that case there’s nothing more to say. Call me if you need anything. Puffin Island is a small community. We look out for each other.”
Because she didn’t trust herself not to cave in and chase after him, she turned away, watching the last drips of sunlight bathe the garden, listening to his footsteps as he walked to the door.
As it closed behind him, she flinched. And remembered exactly why she’d spent all those years making sure she didn’t love.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“THERE’S NOT ENOUGH storage space.” Ryan slammed one door shut and dragged open another. “Murph Compton should be shot. He expects everyone to live in a damn rabbit warren, so that he can live in a mansion.”
“You’re describing my future home,” his grandmother said mildly, “and the storage space is perfect for my needs, providing you don’t break the doors before I move in.”
Ryan strode moodily across the small sunny kitchen and opened another door. What the hell had Emily meant when she’d said he’d confused Lizzy? “The contents of one of your kitchen cupboards would fill this whole place.”
“I’ve been clearing out. It’s called downsizing.”
“There’s no room for a toaster on that counter.”
“I didn’t realize you had such an emotional connection with my toaster, but if its welfare is that important to you, then, please, consider it a gift.” Agnes sighed. “What’s wrong, Ryan?”
“Nothing is wrong. I just can’t understand why you want to live here, that’s all.” He strode back through to the airy living room and tried to forget about the confrontation with Emily. The whole “cottage” would have fit into half the downstairs space at Harbor House. “Where are you going to store everything?”
“I don’t intend to store anything. I intend to declutter my life. Does the thought of that make you angry?”
He looked at her blankly. “What?”
“You’re angry.”
“No. Yes.” He thumped his fist against the wall. “She’s cut me out. She doesn’t want to see me again.”
Agnes eyed the wall and then her grandson. “I assume we’re talking about Emily.”
“She says it’s confusing for Lizzy. That she’s getting too attached.”
“I see.”
“Do you? Because I don’t.” It had been stewing inside him since the conversation a few days earlier. “Can you believe she didn’t call me when she was in the hospital?”
“I expect she didn’t want to bother you. You’re a busy man. A busy, single man.”
“You could have said that without the emphasis and the look.”
“Everyone has the right to make their own choices in life. You’ve made yours. You need to allow Emily to make hers. She’s a smart woman.”
Smart and sexy. “Damn it, she was on her own there. It must have half killed her to have Lizzy in the hospital and she didn’t call me.”
“Perhaps she didn’t feel that was the nature of your relationship.”
He eyed his grandmother, wondering exactly how much she knew about their relationship. “Lizzy was asking for me.”