“Gibson will be happier here. If he wanted to move, he’d have done it after he retired from the school. Or after your mother died. He has friends here. You know how islanders take care of their own.”
His full lips formed a hard line for a moment before he said, “It’s for the best that he comes to Cincinnati.”
“So, you wanted off the island and you left. Now you’re dragging your father off the island, too? What good will that do?”
Emmett shook his head, but he didn’t answer. A moment later he handed her the paper with his notes and estimated costs for the main floor renovation.
“It was good to see you, Jaime.” Finally, he looked at her, but it was as if he were a stranger. His blue eyes were flat, remote. Businesslike.
“It was good to see you, too.” She lied. It hadn’t been good to see him. All sorts of questions tumbled around in her mind, demanding answers he couldn’t or wouldn’t share. Why he left...why he was back...and what those answers meant for her. She liked her life, damn it, she didn’t need to be on the arm of Emmett Deal to be complete. Emmett coming back shouldn’t impact her at all. So why let it?
“Maybe we’ll have lunch before you leave.” She didn’t want to, but it was the polite thing to say. After all, he’d taken time away from his house project to give her an estimate on the school, and it was impossible to avoid anyone on Gulliver for long. Besides, avoiding Emmett would encourage the gossips more than being seen with him.
He nodded and stuck his pencil under the clip on his board. “Maybe.”
He put his hand at the small of her back as they started for the front door and a little jolt of electricity sped along her spine.
She wished she could blame the singe on faulty wiring.
* * *
EMMETT CLOSED THE front door of his childhood home and leaned against it for a second, trying to pretend none of that had just happened. He hadn’t taken Jaime’s hand. Hadn’t nearly told her he’d left her alone all those years ago because he’d blamed himself for Pittsburgh. Hadn’t thought, at least three different times, that he’d like to know if she tasted different now than she had back then.
The feel of her smooth palm against his and the softness of her arms refused to let him pretend.
He couldn’t get involved with Jaime. Not now and not ever. His actions all those years ago had imploded her life. She could say all she wanted that she’d never wanted to be an archaeologist, and maybe she hadn’t. What she had wanted was to leave Gulliver. To travel and see the world. She’d known the ferry schedule by heart; collected hotel pamphlets on vacations. He’d given her a world atlas for Valentine’s Day, for goodness’ sake, and she’d glowed as if he’d given her diamonds. Jaime had wanted to experience world cultures and Emmett had taken that from her with one careless action.
He blew out a breath and pushed off the door. He couldn’t change what he’d done or how that had affected her. How all the looks and hastily stopped conversations had changed her. He’d seen it happening and hadn’t been able to stop it. Then he’d actually overheard one of those hushed conversations and realized everyone had been talking about him. What a bad influence he was on her...how it was his fault. He’d already blamed himself but knowing that his presence on the island had kept people talking and was beating her down had been more than he could take. He’d left, hoping that with him gone the talk would die down and Jaime could get her life back on track.
And obviously failed her all over again.
She didn’t seem to need him now, at least not today. Yesterday...? Maybe he had wanted her to be vulnerable. In need.
Wasn’t that what Kasey had insisted when she’d walked out just before Christmas? That he only wanted to fix things for her; that he didn’t want to really know her. Wasn’t knowing a person about helping them? He didn’t like the word fix. He fixed houses. He had no illusions about his ability to fix people. But helping? He could help.
He’d met Kasey on a job; a rehab in a bad neighborhood just outside downtown Cincinnati. They’d had dinner and then drinks and, before he knew it, he was rewiring her house. When she’d told him about her awful boss, Emmett had offered her a job doing some accounting for his construction company. They’d been comfortable.
He’d chalked up her complaints as excuses to quit the job and their relationship, but now...
Did he have some kind of latent hero complex about women?
Emmett shook off the question. He loved women; he didn’t feel superior to them. Helping people out was part of his DNA. Bottom line: he was hardwired to solve problems. Jaime had a problem, he offered his advice. Actually getting the old school renovated was completely in her court. Nothing he could or would do about it.
The image she’d painted when they’d toured the school shimmered back into his mind. It would be pretty, though. A draw to tourists; a place to instill pride in the locals. Maybe there was one more thing he could do.
* * *
JAIME TAPPED HER foot against the carpeted floor outside Tom’s office at the winery and watched the clock tick toward three. The registrar’s office had emailed after lunch with instructions to finish the paperwork; they seemed excited for the project. After Google-searching construction firms and calling everyone listed on the search results, though, she was no closer to finding a crew that could start work next week. Much less one that would finish the job in time for the reunion.
The clock ticked past the big three on the dial and her mind wandered. Since leaving the school, for every five minutes she’d spent working on the renovations, she’d spent twenty more thinking about Emmett.
How the sun shone against his jet-black hair. How her hand felt in his. Mostly about that moment on the stairs, the moment she thought he might kiss her. How ridiculous was that?
She hadn’t spent the past ten years pining for Emmett Deal. He’d left. She’d moved on.
Emmett being back didn’t mean anything in her life had to change. In fact, since he’d made it clear this was a short—and very final—visit, nothing in her life would change. She tapped the folder on her lap. These projects would keep her busy. She liked busy. Busy meant days with no time to wonder and nights when she was too tired to dream. Everyone knew she liked busy.
Tom opened the office door, thanking someone on the other side for stopping by. Emmett’s voice inside the office kicked her heartbeat into overdrive. That was as ridiculous as wondering about Emmett’s life in Cincinnati.
“No problem, it’s a solid project and several of my guys were interested.” Emmett stopped when he saw Jaime sitting in the hall. Her heart pounded harder and her mouth felt dry. What was happening to her? First, she drooled over the man in the diner, now she couldn’t be in the same room with him without losing control of her body.
“Tom mentioned you had trouble finding a crew the first time around.”
Jaime quickly stood, holding the folder to her chest. “H-he did?” And now she was stuttering. Perfect.
“Emmett called about the estimate and one thing led to another. Are those the papers?”
“Yes, Laura mentioned you wanted to take a look,” she said, pointing toward the empty secretary’s desk at the opposite wall. She should have known something was going on when Laura wasn’t at her desk.
In the twenty-four hours since Emmett had landed on the island Ronda at the post office had waved her inside to pick up a package that had mysteriously disappeared and, of course, to ask if Emmett was really back on the island. Since Ronda was the second person any of the