“Enjoy the beach, Gibson. I hear the sun is out today.”
The click on the other line tells me she’s hung up, and I want to throw my phone through the window and shatter all of it into a million pieces. But instead, I make another phone call and pace the room. I don’t know how to undo what I’ve started, but I have to find a way. Even if that means leaving this island.
Ten minutes of trying to convince the pilot who brought me here to take me back to the mainland, and he won’t budge. They’ve grounded all flights again with the anticipation that the storm tonight will be worse than the one before. In the back of my mind I wonder if he’s working for Sienna, but even I can see the black clouds in the distance.
No matter what, I’m stuck here, so I guess I just have to decide…whose side am I on? And after today in the woods with Lindsey, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.
Chapter 9
Lindsey
“Got a second?” Mary asks as she sits on the cabana bed beside me.
It’s been a good hour since Gibson took off, and it’s shameful how much I’ve glanced back towards the hotel to see if he’s coming. He said he’d be back, but I’m starting to think that’s not happening. His mood swings are beginning to annoy me. I’m not made for this yo-yo of emotions because it’s overwhelming. I can be so good with helping others handle theirs, but I’m shit with my own.
“Always for you.” I smile over at her, but my stomach turns at what she might be about to say. I don’t think Cora said anything, but as she mentioned, Mary might have already picked up on my attraction to Gibson.
“Gibson.” She shakes her head, and I guess she doesn't think this is a good idea. “He tried to get a charter off the island.”
My stomach drops. That’s not what I thought she was going to say. Why does this feel worse than her thinking Gibson and me hooking up isn’t a good idea?
“Okay, I guess we can’t stop him.” He wants away from me so badly he’s willing to try and get a last-minute charter out of here. Ouch.
“No, we can’t, but the weather can.” She nods out to the ocean. The sun is still shining down on us, but in the distance I can see another storm rolling in. The water is already looking rougher than it did when we first got down to the beach.
“Right.” An ache forms in my heart, and I try to ignore its throbbing demand. I haven't felt it since I was a kid and my mom left me standing outside of a fire station. I barely remember her. I’m thankful for that.
A flash of anger hits me when I realize I’ve given him the power to make me feel like this. Still, it doesn't make me want him any less, and I hate myself for how desperate that makes me feel. I will not be one of those pathetic women that chases after a man. It’s not happening.
“So how do you want to play this?” I ask, and she shrugs.
“I was only giving you a heads up because I thought you should know. I trust you to play it any way you like.”
“You said we need to make sure he stays,” I remind her, and this is her world. I’ll suck up any guidance she’s willing to give me.
“I would like that, but we can only control so much. I think you’ll make happen what needs to happen.” She stands and smiles at the sunshine. “Enjoy the beach while you can. No one is going anywhere right now.” She winks at me before she heads off, and somehow she doesn't look silly in her wide-leg slacks and silk blouse on the beach.
I lean back, thinking over what she said. Gibson would have bolted out of here without so much as a word? I should keep my distance because this is evidence he’s only going to break my heart. Too bad it’s easier said than done.
What if he’s fighting his feelings toward me like I’m doing with him? I should understand that, but really it hurts. I always thought if one day a man knocked me on my ass it was because he would be something special and he’d fight for me in ways no one else ever had.
“Need some more?” Peter stands beside my cabana, holding up his extra-strength sunscreen.
“She’s fine,” I hear Gibson answer, and instantly those flutters hit my stomach at the sound of his voice. I don’t glance his way as I stand up.
“I’m good, Peter, but thanks. I’m going to go for a dip before the storm rolls in,” I tell him, still not acknowledging Gibson. “Maybe catch me after.” Did I really just say that? I’m trying to provoke Gibson, and I know it. I don’t think this is what Mary had in mind when she told me to handle it.