Summer on Lovers' Island (Jewell Cove 3)

When the game finished, Matt went off to meet up with a couple of his friends to play fetch with Rick’s dog and Josh wandered over to the snack table. His contribution to the day was chips and salsa, but he’d made an attempt to be festive and bought red, white, and blue corn tortilla chips. Apparently Sarah’s need to have every food group represented was quashed today, since the other offerings included chips and dip and pretzel twists.

From the corner of his eye he saw Lizzie, holding a glass full of something that was a greenish yellow and looked very citrusy and refreshing. She put the straw to her lips and took a sip of her drink, not a hair or thread out of place.

He’d had time to think about her on his way home from the game this afternoon, think about why she set him on edge so often. It was the two Cs: Competence and Class. Lizzie had them in abundance. Erin had them as well. And he’d spent a good part of his marriage feeling like he wasn’t good enough. Part of it was because of where Erin came from. The other part came from knowing that deep down his wife had really been in love with another man. Lizzie made him feel the same way. Like she was way out of his league. It was hard on a man’s ego.

As if she felt him staring at her, she looked over and met his gaze. She smiled and gave a little wave before turning back to her conversation. To his surprise, she put her hand on Sarah’s arm and seemingly excused herself. His pulse sped up as he realized she was coming his way, his palms started to sweat, and he wondered why on earth it should matter at all. She was his coworker, for Pete’s sake. He was technically her boss. He shouldn’t feel this way … like the unpopular kid on the sidelines of the gym, wondering if the girl walking toward him was going to ask him to dance.

“Hey,” she said softly as she caught up with him.

“Hey yourself.” Why the hell was he so nervous? “You look nice.”

She looked down for a moment. “Um, thanks. I wasn’t sure what the dress code was for this sort of thing.”

He realized she was the only one wearing a dress. “Things tend to be casual around here. My mom hasn’t worn a dress since Jess’s wedding, I don’t think, and the girls…” He looked sideways, then back up at Lizzie. “Jess tells me that she hates dresses right now.”

Lizzie took a sip of her drink. “Your sister is beautiful, Josh. Almost eight months pregnant and rockin’ the boyfriend jeans look. I don’t know another pregnant woman who could pull that off.”

Boyfriend jeans? Before he could ask what that meant, he heard Lizzie apologizing.

“Josh, I’m sorry about this afternoon. I didn’t mean to criticize.”

He met her gaze evenly. “No, I should apologize. I was touchy and I shouldn’t have been.”

“It’s just that we have to work together and I’d rather there wasn’t any friction.” She took another sip and he wondered if she was doing it just to mask her discomfort. She didn’t seem like the kind who would enjoy this sort of conversation. Put her in the middle of a medical emergency and she was in her element. This, though? Awkward.

“I agree.” He did, and then some. She looked far more approachable today, without her white coat and neat bun. “Look, what you said … it’s my issue, not yours. Basing things on appearances is a bit of a hot button for me, that’s all.”

“Like me asking why you drive a death trap?”

A laugh burst out before he could help it. “Hey. The Beast is not a death trap.” When she smiled around her straw, he added, “No more than driving around with the top down.”

“Touché.” She laughed lightly. “Honestly? The car was my dad’s. He treated himself to it two years ago, when he was looking for something fun. I was driving a plain old boring Toyota until a few months ago. And I mean plain. Like beige.” She emphasized the color with an eye roll.

He laughed despite himself.

“I do know how to have fun, you know. Ask Charlie. She was the stick-in-the-mud when we were in college.”

“So what changed?”

“What do you mean?” She picked up a blue tortilla chip and bit off a corner.

“I just … Y

ou seem, I don’t know, guarded. So serious all the time.”

Her cheeks flushed a little. “Oh. Well, my dad died last winter.” She shrugged casually, but her eyes were dark and sad as she said the words quietly, the somber tone a contrast to the happy summer music and laughter filling the yard.

Josh felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was he ill?”

She shook her head. “No. He was semiretired. A trauma specialist. He wasn’t even seventy, so we didn’t see the stroke coming. He’s the reason I became a doctor, and we were really close. It seems weird, not having him with me anymore.”

“It can be hard to live up to your family’s expectations.”

She frowned. “Oh, Dad didn’t put that kind of pressure on me. When I was little, he used to tell me, ‘Lizzie, no one ever got anywhere by dreaming small. Dream big. Have adventures.’ And then when I got older he was the one who advised me to leave work once in a while and cut loose.” She smiled wistfully. “He wasn’t always like that. When I was little, he worked a lot. But one time I heard my mom put her foot down and say that he had a marriage to look after and not just a job. He really made an effort to balance life after that. We used to take these ski trips every year. My mother nearly had a fit when he decided the two of us were going heli-skiing.” Her face softened, and then she blinked quickly four or five times.

No mention of where her mother was now, but Josh didn’t want to pry too much when Lizzie was already upset. Clearly she had adored her father. Josh also found it very telling that she mentioned his death but not a word about the situation at her last job. For some reason he liked her more for it, and what it said about her that she’d chosen losing her father as the defining moment of the past six months.

“I lost my dad when I was young,” he offered. “It was also really sudden. I know it can throw you for a loop, especially when the presence has been a strong one. It’ll get better, though.” He smiled at her encouragingly, and when she looked at him, her lashes slightly damp, something changed inside him. She wasn’t the uptight city girl who drove into town in her flashy car and made judgments. In that moment of honesty, Lizzie Howard went from being temporary coworker to friend. And Josh always made sure to look out for his friends.