Can't Get Over You (Fortune's Island, Book 2) (16 page)

“We do indeed. My mom’s secret recipe.”

Gandy grinned. “It’s my favorite. I keep trying to get her to share the recipe, but it’s a hell of a lot easier to just come here every week and order it.”

“I’ll bring a bowl right out. Do you want to sit out here?”

“You know I do.”

Gandy wasn’t much of a social guy. He preferred to sit out on the deck alone, or with one or two of his fishing buddies. He was here, as he’d said, every single week, and in all that time, Jillian had never had a conversation with him that went much deeper than what was on the menu. He was a nice guy, but more of a loner than anything else.

Tonight, though, she wanted to pick his brain. Find a way to get him to tell her everything he knew about Ethan. Maybe because she figured if she was concentrating on Ethan, then she wasn’t thinking about Zach. Her ex-fiancé was a problem she didn’t know how to solve, one that only seemed more complicated after the conversation with her father. The best choice, Jillian had decided, was to move on.

“So, Gandy,” Jillian said, grabbing a glass and a pitcher of ice water from the serving station on the deck, “I met your nephew the other day.”

“He mentioned he’d taken you out on the town. Ethan’s a good kid. Good kid. My brother’s kind of an ass, but hey, you don’t get to pick your parents.” Gandy winked. “I always did like Ethan, though. If I ever found a woman foolish enough to marry me, I would have liked to have a kid like him.”

“Does he come out to visit often?”

“He used to, when he was no higher than a grasshopper.” Gandy put out a hand about knee high. “And when he was a teenager, wanting to get away from the parents. I told you, my brother’s kind of an ass. I would have rather spent the summer here than in that crazy California with him. But now that Ethan’s all grown up, he’s not by as much.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yup. Though maybe now with a girl he likes here, he might be back more.”

That made Jillian smile. It was nice to have a guy who was interested enough in her to journey across the country to see her. Maybe this thing with Ethan could become something bigger. If so, did she want more?

Gandy nodded toward the kitchen. “Weren’t you going to get me some chili?”

“Oh, yes, sorry.” She laid the pitcher on the serving station, then ducked inside and headed for the simmering pot of chili on the stove. She ladled some up into a big mug sitting on a plate, topped it with a little diced jalapeno and some shredded cheese, then laid a couple packages of crackers on the side.

Grace looked over and chuckled. “Gandy’s here tonight?”

“Of course,” Jillian said.

“Isn’t he that boy’s uncle? The one you went out with the other night?”

“Yes. And he said he thinks maybe Ethan will visit more now that he’s met me.” Jillian grinned.

“He sounds like a nice young man,” Grace said. “I’m glad you went out with him. Does he treat you the way you deserve?”

“He does. Our dates have been…nice.” Though he hadn’t been much on communication since their most recent date. A few texts, one quick phone call. She supposed he was busy with
work, but for a guy who seemed so interested the first night, he sure wasn’t acting that way now. Maybe he was the kind who was better in person than from a distance.

Then, as if she’d conjured him up just by thinking about him, her phone buzzed, and a text from Ethan appeared on the screen.

Thinking of you. Looking forward to seeing you when I’m back in town tomorrow afternoon.

She smiled.
Same here. There’s going to be a beach party, if you want to go.

Sounds like a plan. See you at noon?

She agreed, then tucked her phone back in her pocket. “And we have another date tomorrow.”

“That’s awesome, honey,” her mother said, drawing her into a hug. “I’m so thrilled for you.”

Jillian knew she should be thrilled, too. Ethan liked her—liked her enough to tell Gandy that he liked her, and he was taking her out again. He was the kind of guy she wanted. Smart, successful, handsome.

But her gaze kept straying to the front of the restaurant, to where Mr. Wrong was on a stage, singing about broken hearts and reminding her of a love she was doing her level best to forget.

# # #

Summer might have been over, with most of the tourists back on the mainland at their regular jobs, but the party hadn’t stopped on Fortune’s Island. Kincaid and Darcy were hosting a beach party, inviting pretty much everyone who lived there. Sort of a pre-wedding fiesta, they’d
said, an event where they could have fun and chat with their friends without all the hoopla of the wedding.

Jillian tried on three different bathing suits before finally settling on one that she hoped would take Ethan’s breath away. She threw on a lacy white beach coverup, filled a bag with sunscreen and a towel, then put the finishing touches on a potato salad she’d made that morning. It was Saturday, and she had to work tonight, but for the next few hours, she was going to have fun.

Ethan arrived on her doorstep exactly at twelve. He had on a blue cotton short-sleeve button down over a pair of khaki shorts, with boat shoes that looked like they’d never seen the deck of a boat. His clothes were pressed, his hair neat, and he had on just the right amount of cologne. It was almost as if she had ordered him out of a catalog.

“You look incredible,” he said when she opened the door, then he stepped forward and kissed her.

It was a short kiss, a brief peck, and then he was taking the potato salad from her hands and leading her down the stairs to his car. As they drove down to the beach, he talked about his days in New York, and the new band he’d signed while he was out there. “I was really hoping not to have to go back and forth this week, but there was another company interested in that band, so I had to make sure I signed them first. But for the rest of this weekend, I’m all yours.” He reached over and took her hand in his.

His hand was smaller than Zach’s, and she had to shift her touch to fit their fingers together. Ethan’s rental zipped along the roads, shiny and fast, like what Jillian’s car could be—if she filled the tank with a mixture of nitroglycerin and steroids. They rounded the corner, and
Ethan tapped the brakes when two cars appeared on the side of the road. “Looks like somebody had a fender bender,” he said.

“We should stop. See if they need any help.”

He flicked another glance at the accident, then shook his head. “We’re already late, and I’m sure somebody called the cops right away.”

Jillian scoffed. “On Fortune’s Island, it’s usually cop singular. We have three people on the force, because nothing bad ever happens.” Then she caught herself and added quietly, “Almost nothing.”

Ethan kept on going, past the accident. “Looks like the car behind me is stopping. See? We can still get to the party on time.”

Jillian turned in her seat. “It’s…Zach.”

“Your old boyfriend?”

“Yes. He’s stopping.” She watched Zach pull the Mustang in behind the two cars, then get out and lean into the driver’s side window of the first car, probably asking the male driver if he was okay. Then the road turned, and Zach disappeared from her sight. She turned back to the front.

Ethan had barely slowed at the accident. Maybe it was his LA personality, or maybe he really was that insensitive, but she had never known a single resident of Fortune’s Island to keep going past a neighbor in need. And Zach, as was his nature, had been the first one to stop. Zach might have made a lot of mistakes in their relationship, but when it came to being a good human being, he had that down pat. She’d always liked that about him.

“Maybe we should turn back and see if Zach needs any help,” she said.

Ethan glanced at his watch. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he looked annoyed. “We’re already late. Are you sure?”

“This is a small town, Ethan,” she said again. Maybe he just didn’t understand small town mentality. Or maybe he really was that insensitive. “And that’s what we do here.”

“Okay. I guess I get that.” Ethan pulled onto the shoulder and did a U-turn. A minute later, they parked across the street from the accident and got out.

Zach had his arm around Clint Dempsey, the elderly owner of a little art gallery on Main Street. The two of them were sitting on a big rock off to the side of the road. He was talking to the frail older man, in quiet, reassuring tones.

Jillian’s heart softened. Zach was taking such care with Clint, who was still shaking. It was as if the roles had reversed, with younger Zach being the caretaker. “It’ll be fine, Clint,” Zach was saying. “You didn’t hurt anybody and you didn’t get hurt, either. Cars can be fixed.”

“Thank you, son.” Clint patted Zach’s knee. “You came along at just the right time.”

It was such a Zach moment. He was helping out a neighbor, not because he had to or because someone told him to, but because that was who he was. He’d been like that all his life—the one to carry a lunch tray for a girl with a broken arm, or to help his elderly neighbor carry in her mail. People on Fortune’s Island loved him for that, and rightly so. She could see Clint’s face calm, the shaking stop, as Zach’s presence worked its magic.

In the distance, Jillian heard the sound of a police siren. “Seems they have it under control,” Ethan said. He touched her elbow. “Should we get going?”

“Just…give me a minute.” She dashed across the street. “Hey, you guys okay?”

Zach nodded, and Clint gave her a weak smile. “All good here,” Zach said. “I think Katelin is more pissed off than anything that she dinged up her new Kia.”

“I’ll go check on her.” Jillian skirted behind Clint’s car and over to the little red sportscar ahead of it. A dent the size of a watermelon curved into the right half of the Kia’s bumper. Katelin was sitting in the front seat with the door open, yelling into her phone. “I don’t know what happened, Mom. I was slowing down for something and this guy just rear-ended me…. No, I wasn’t texting…I don’t know why it happened.”

“You okay?” Jillian asked the teenager.

“Mom, hold on.” Katelin put her hand over the phone. “Yeah. But my car’s totaled.”

Jillian bit back a laugh. “It’s just a dent. It can be fixed,” she said, repeating Zach’s words. “No big deal. The most important thing is whether you are okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” Katelin went back to her phone call, launching into an argument about what was going to happen to her insurance rates now.

Ethan was standing a few feet behind the accident, on his cell phone, either texting or sending an email, she wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t helping. She should cut him some slack—after all, Ethan didn’t live here, didn’t know any of the people involved.

Zach was still with Clint, who was looking a little less pale now, and starting to get to his feet. The cop car came around the corner and parked behind Clint’s car. Officer Nichols got out, took one look at the two dinged vehicles, and headed straight for Katelin, who started yelling she was not texting and driving. This time.

Zach came up beside Jillian. “Just another day on Fortune’s Island, huh?”

“Yeah.” She nodded toward Clint, who was now giving his statement to the policeman. “That was nice what you did for him.”

“All I did was talk to him.” Zach shrugged. “It’s what anyone would do.”

“No, not anyone.” Ethan was still on his phone. He looked up at her and sent her a quick smile, then went back to the Samsung.

The whole moment made her see Zach with new eyes. In spite of all the reservations she’d had about her former fiancé, all the reasons she had for not getting back together with him, seeing him on the side of the road, calming down Clint, sent her mind down memory lane. And reminded her that, at his core, Zach Gifford was a good guy. Those didn’t come along every day.

“Remember that time we helped Mildred Harkins?” she said.

They’d been teenagers, fresh in the middle of a summer love, and walking in Jillian’s neighborhood. Zach had seen the old lady who lived next door to Jillian struggling with a load of bags, and ran up to take them from her hands. Jillian watched him, the gentle way he offered to help, how he waved off Mrs. Harkins’ protests, and realized she was falling in love with Zach Gifford right then and there. He’d been so sweet and considerate, so unlike the immature boys she’d known before.

Zach chuckled. “Definitely. One minute, we’re offering to help her carry in her groceries, the next we’re spreading mulch and digging up that bear of an azalea shrub.”

“She did give us cookies, though.”

“That was definitely a bonus. And they were good cookies.”

They’d sat in the shade in Mildred’s back yard and shared the tin of desserts, along with icy glasses of milk. They’d been hot and sweaty and tired, but the cookies were good, and she remembered how much Zach had made her laugh. She could have eaten those cookies all day just to see him smile and laugh like that. “She gave me the recipe. Did I ever tell you that?”

“No. Nor did you ever make them for me.” He tapped his lip, as if feigning deep thought. “Why’s that, JillyBean?”

The nickname settled over her this time, familiar and warm. The memories had warmed the water between them, and she found herself lingering. “Well, I’ve been kind of mad at you for a while.”

Zach arched a brow. “Kind of?”

“Well…very.”

“And are you too mad to make them now?” Zach grinned and waved toward the accident scene. The road debris had been cleaned up, and the cars were running again, which meant it looked like everyone was going to be okay. “I mean, all this good-deed doing definitely gives a man an appetite.”

Were they talking about desserts? Because the way he said appetite, and the implication that she would bake for him, sure sounded like something more. “You think what you did deserves cookies?”

“Of course.” He smirked. “It’s the Pavlovian way to train a good guy. He does something right, you reward him with food.” His eyes darkened, and the temperature between them arced upward. A heartbeat passed. Another. “Or…something else.”

Desire curled inside her and, for a second, she felt a flirty smile play with her lips. But then she remembered the reality. She and Zach were over. There wasn’t any innuendo between them because she couldn’t afford to let that in. If she did, they’d end up kissing again, and kissing led to the bedroom…. And Ethan was not too far away—the man she was supposed to be focused on instead of the man she had broken up with months ago. “Well, it’ll have to be cookies because I’m definitely not doing the something else.”