‘You ready?’
They were almost at the car when he stopped short, frowning as he read a sign that had been fixed to the fence.
For Sale, all enquiries to Within and Cross Realtors.
Nine words that made anger flash in his eyes.
‘What the hell?’ His frown deepened as he looked across to the wooden hut, where they’d seen Stan only that morning. It was locked up now, wooden shutters firmly closed across the windows. For some reason that made Ryan even angrier.
‘What is it?’
He reached out to touch the sign, then pulled his hand back, fingers curled into a fist. ‘They should’ve told me this was for sale.’
‘Maybe Stan didn’t know.’ Juliet kept her voice quiet. Something about the fire in Ryan’s eyes made her feel edgy.
‘I don’t mean Stan. I meant my parents. My mom at least should have let me know about this.’
‘Your family own the wharf?’ She didn’t know why she was so surprised. It was no secret that the Sutherlands owned half of Shaw Haven, and the Marshalls owned the rest. Two families with such power – and both she and Ryan seemed to be the black sheep.
‘They do. And so do I.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘You do?’
‘I’m a shareholder.’
‘I didn’t realise. I thought … ’ She trailed off. What did she think? Of course he had shares and money – the kind of money only a Sutherland or Marshall would have around here. Thomas had told her as much, after all.
He was one of them, even if he pretended not to be.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked him.
He looked around at the deserted wharf. ‘Nothing right now, I guess.’ He rolled his shoulders, as if to relieve the tension. ‘Come on, let’s go home.’ He grabbed her hand, and they walked over to his car, feet crunching as they made their way across the gravelled lot. His muscles were stiff, his body unbending, and she knew that the For Sale sign they’d seen had affected him. More than once on the journey home she opened her mouth to ask him about it, but the thin line of his lips and furrowed brow had frozen the question on her tongue. It was as though he’d drawn an invisible boundary around himself. She had no idea how to breach it.
By the time he pulled up on his driveway, she was unsure what to do. Maybe he wanted to be alone to think about the wharf. And though she definitely didn’t want to be alone, she could give him that at least.
‘I’ll head on home,’ she said, climbing out of the passenger seat, as he held the door open. ‘Thank you for a lovely day.’
He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I thought I was taking you home?’
‘I am home. That’s where I’m going.’
‘To my home. That’s where I meant. I don’t want you to leave.’ His face softened, some of the tension leaving his jaw. ‘I was distant on the way home, I know. I was shocked by the sign, I wasn’t expecting it. I’m trying to take it all in.’
She let out a lungful of air, her muscles relaxing at his words. ‘Don’t you want to be alone, make some phone calls or something? I guess that place means a lot to you, huh?’
‘You could say that. But no, I don’t want to be alone. I want to take you home, and have you all over again, but this time on dry land. And when you go to sleep, I want it to be in my arms, not over there on your own.’ He put his hand out, offering it to her, his fingers outstretched.
It didn’t take longer than a second to decide. She took Ryan’s hand, her warm palm resting against his, and let him fold his fingers around hers. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, then he led her up his front steps and across his wooden deck, to the front door. He slid his key into the lock, and as he turned it, she felt as though something was turning inside her, too. Unlocking her emotions, laying her bare, opening her up in a way she hadn’t been for the longest time. Her chest felt full with the knowledge of it.
‘Come inside, please,’ he said softly. Still holding his hand, she followed him in. She’d never been in his hallway before. She usually came into his kitchen by the back door.
The walls were covered in framed prints. Images of people, of destinations, of Charlie posing on beaches and in cities. As well as the photographs there were mementos from all over the world. Old masks and brightly covered dream catchers were hung next to tribal artwork and framed silken fabrics. It was like stepping into a living museum.
‘Wow,’ she breathed, looking around, trying to take it all in.
‘What?’ A perplexed smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he stared at her. ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘It’s just this.’ She gestured at his walls. ‘I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know why, I mean you’ve been to so many places, it’s natural you’d want to remember them. But I always took you as the kind of guy who travelled light.’