Some Kind of Wonderful (Puffin Island 2)

“Why the deck? It’s fine by me if you haven’t made the bed or something. I don’t care if the place is a mess.”

“It’s not a mess. I’m methodical. Comes from being a pilot. Routines keep me alive.”

“So why can’t we—oh, never mind.” Sparks danced between them like the crackle and pop of a bonfire.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to invite you in,” he lied. “I feel like fresh air, that’s all.”

Deciding that the more layers between them the better, he pulled his shirt on over his head, noticing that she kept her eyes fixed on the room behind him.

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“I always loved this cabin. It’s romantic.” She spoke without thinking and then looked at him and gave an awkward laugh. “Except not right now, of course. We didn’t do romantic, did we?”

He didn’t want to think about what they’d done. And he definitely didn’t want to think about all the possibilities of the cabin. “What did you want to talk about?” As if he didn’t know.

As if it wasn’t obvious.

Restless, she paced to the edge of the deck. Occasionally when the sea was rough, the waves hurled spray over the broad planks and anyone standing on them, but tonight the sea rolled in quietly, licking the shore in slow, sleepy waves.

She leaned on the railing and stared down into the inky depths. Then she took a deep breath and turned to look at him.

“I want to forget what happened. And if the only way of forgetting is to talk about it first, then let’s talk.”

This was the Brittany he remembered. Frank, honest and straightforward in her approach to a problem. Lies didn’t suit her.

And they didn’t suit him. “You want to talk about what happened? I’ve always found you sexy as hell and you didn’t exactly seem in a hurry to stop me,” he said roughly. “That’s what happened.”

There was a gleam of wry humor in her eyes. “I meant what happened ten years ago, not what happened the other night. We don’t communicate well, do we?”

He couldn’t argue with that.

It was like a game of catch, and each of them kept missing the ball.

“You want to talk about what happened back then?” His mouth was dry. “Go ahead. Say what you want to say.” After what he’d done, he owed her that much.

“When Ryan asked me about helping at camp, my first instinct was to say no. I thought it would be awkward for both of us. And then I realized that saying no would mean missing out on something I love. Camp was part of my life. Some of my happiest memories come from the time I spent here. I’d like to help, and the only thing stopping me from doing that is you.” She pushed her hands into the pockets of her cargoes. “We’re both adults, Zach. It was a long time ago. I just want to forget it and move on.”

Braced for a litany of his own deficiencies, Zach stared at her. “That’s it?”

“Yes. It was a long time ago. Was I upset? Yes, I was. The worst part was that I thought we were friends and the fact that you’d just leave like that without talking to me—” she bit her lip “—well, that was the saddest thing of all. But I got over it. I want to work here. I want to spend some time at the camp, and I don’t want it to be awkward. Tonight, with our friends, it felt awkward. And I don’t want that. It makes it difficult for everyone.” She drew in a breath. “I think we should both forget it and start again. Can we do that?” She stood like a little warrior, her eyes fierce and her head tilted slightly to one side as she waited for his response.

“Are we forgetting our marriage or what happened the other night?”

“Definitely the first, and probably the second, too. That would be the sensible move. And this time round we’re going to be sensible. We don’t have youth as an excuse for doing crazy stuff anymore.”

Zach wondered what she’d say if he confessed she was the one woman he’d never forgotten.

Except for Brittany, his relationships had all looked the same.

The only thing the women he’d met had in common was that he’d disappointed each and every one.

He wondered how much she’d told her friends when they’d all vanished to the kitchen.

“Ryan invited me for a drink and to discuss the changes he was making to the house. I didn’t know dinner was included and I didn’t know he had a houseful of guests.”

“Not guests,” Brittany murmured, “just us.”

And that was the difference between them, he thought. She took the friendship for granted, and assumed she’d always be welcome. She’d grown up with these people, their lives interwoven like the fronds of seaweed on the seabed. The Forrest family was rooted on Puffin Island, as was Ryan’s family, the Coopers. They wandered in and out of each other’s houses, sharing conversation and hospitality. Friendship, so easy and natural to her, still seemed alien to him. He didn’t trust it not to explode in his face.