After dinner she was back to the porch, this time with a mug of hot cocoa to accompany the Scoundrel’s tales. Turned out even a scoundrel had the capacity to love, which was no surprise given the genre’s requisite happy ending, but what did surprise her was that it was nearly midnight when she finished reading. She took great pride in the fact that she’d made it through a whole day and night of self-imposed relaxation, but was dreading the thought of doing it all again the next day. With any luck, the rain would ease up enough for her to at least explore a little bit of the island.
Paige put the book in the cabinet and was about to head up the back staircase when she heard a noise from the front room. She made her way down the narrow hallway, past the curio cabinet and the banister, noting that the latter was now peanut butter free. Thank God for small victories, she thought.
She paused before rounding the wooden casement that marked the entry to the room, choosing instead to steal a quick peek. The room was dark except for the light of one small Tiffany-style lamp that sat perched atop an ornate cabinet. Lucas sat in a tufted chair with only his profile visible to her. He held a photo album in his hands, with two more stacked on the floor beside his feet. Under normal circumstances, she’d have gone on in and made a bit of small talk by asking about the photos. But something about the way Lucas sat, his shoulders tense and his head down, told her that this was not a situation that called for chitchat. It was as though he was engrossed and anguished at the same time. Over what, she couldn’t say for sure, although she suspected it had something to do with the woman in the photo that sat behind her in the curio. She turned, her gaze falling on the frame tucked behind the driftwood. Clearly that was the woman who had lived in the room upstairs. But Lucas didn’t wear a wedding ring anymore. Did she leave him or, worse, was she…
Paige stopped herself. There was absolutely no reason for her to go all Nancy Drew. Lucas Croft was her host, not her friend and certainly not her date. What may or may not have happened in his personal life was none of her business. So instead of joining him in the living room, she merely watched him for a few moments more, then turned and went up to bed.
Chapter 7
Another sleepless night.
But this time, instead of tossing and turning with seething anger, Lucas spent the night racked with guilt.
He and Jenny had dreamed not only of earning a living running the Copper Lantern Inn, but of raising their family and growing old together there. That dream had vanished like morning fog. He’d never intended to continue the business without her, but now there he was, hosting a guest on his own for the first time—and what did he do? Ogled her boobs like a horny teenager while making a few lame attempts at… What was that shit even? Hell, he’d had better moves when he actually was a teenager. To be fair, he was more than a little rusty. And Paige Parker was more than a little hot. Not that it justified his behavior. Paige—Ms. Parker—was a guest at the Copper Lantern Inn. Not a contestant on some sad reality show. Like The Bachelor, only worse. The Widower: Come for the view, stay for the sexual harassment.
Of course he’d sealed the fate of his sleepless night when he’d broken his own cardinal rule. It had been just over a year since he’d let himself look at even one of the albums Jenny had made documenting their life together, let alone the complete set. It was amazing really. They’d had such a short amount of time together, but you’d never know it by the number of photographs she’d crammed into those books. And who did that anyway? The rest of the world had thousands of photos on their phones or misplaced flash drives. But not Jenny. She would print them, write on the backs, and then arrange them on colorful pages. Sometimes Lucas wondered if deep down she somehow knew they wouldn’t have forever. If maybe she had created an archive for their daughter so when she was older, she would know about the love they had shared.
Lucas scrubbed a hand down his face. Nothing he could do about either of the screwups from the day before. All he could do was move forward.
Move forward.
If he had a dollar for every time he’d heard those two words, well, let’s just say he wouldn’t have had to accept the booking. It had started as a little trickle. A prod here and there from his sister, a few comments about “getting back in the game” from his college buddies, or the less-than-subtle request from a few of the island’s older residents to show a visiting niece or granddaughter around the island. Like he didn’t know a blind date when he heard it. But lately that trickle had turned into a steady stream.
In his heart, he knew that Jenny would want him to move on, to make a life for himself and Maddie with a woman who would never take her place, but rather fill a gaping void. Sometimes he wondered if that’s why the dreams had stopped. In the month after her death, Jenny had come to him nearly every night. It was always the same, just different scenarios: he and Jenny in a scene from their lives that felt so vivid, so real, that when he woke to his reality, it was like hearing the news of her death all over again.
But those dreams became fewer and farther between until about nine months ago when they stopped altogether. In a way, it made her loss feel all the more permanent. Like somehow as long as he’d been dreaming of her every night, she wasn’t really gone. But now that nocturnal comfort had vanished. Was it his subconscious’s way of telling him it was time to move on? Maybe. Didn’t mean he had to listen to that advice, even if it was coming from his own brain. He pushed the thoughts to the recesses of his mind, just like he always did, focusing instead on whatever task lay directly at hand. For now, that meant cooking breakfast.
He showered quickly—had he put his toothbrush and deodorant in the medicine cabinet?—then listened for any signs of life from his one and only guest. Satisfied she was still sleeping, he went downstairs for a quick video call with Maddie. He’d seen her the day before when he’d popped out to go to the grocery store, but judging by the way the wind was rattling the windows, he might not be able to make it to the other side of the island until tomorrow. The thought of going a day without seeing his daughter made his heart ache nearly as much as the damn albums had the night before. But the tightness in his chest dissolved into a familiar warmth the moment her little face filled the screen.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, Peanut.”
Her lips twisted in the most adorable pout. “You know I’m not a peanut anymore.” He’d started calling her that the first time he held her in his arms. She was so tiny, it was the first word that popped into his mind. A few months ago, she had insisted that he come up with a new nickname. One more befitting a woman about to turn five years old. He’d merely smiled, knowing full well he’d still be calling her Peanut on her wedding day.
“Yes, you are. Always will be to me.”
She smiled, and all was well in his world.
“What are you and Aunt Sophie doing today?”
Maddie twirled one of her dark curls around her finger. “We are going to make cookies and then have a tea party with…” She wandered off-screen and returned a minute later with an armload of stuffed animals that she began holding in front of the camera one by one. As if Lucas wasn’t already well acquainted with the motley band of characters who accompanied her everywhere she went. “But don’t worry, my cup will only have milk,” she said, once all the tea party’s guests had been introduced.