He’d ignored all her little OCD clues of troubles. Seen only what he felt like seeing.
Don’t hurt her.
Casually, yeah, friendly, yeah, but they’d been dead serious each of those times. He’d brushed the warnings off. Hurt a woman? He never had, never would.
My momma raised me right
, he’d joked back to them, completely ignoring the undercurrents of troubled meaning in those friendly warnings. JoAnn, Lloyd and Dave were going to give him crap for this, for certain. Blame him. Want to know what he’d done wrong and why.
Hurt Kay? Hold up here just a damn minute. Hell. He was the one with his heart torn up and bleeding all over the place.
He was too numb to pack and had just enough pride left to keep him from cutting his losses and heading out right now in the night. He threw himself into the chair. Yeah, he might be a card-carrying idiot, but he refused to be an asshole. He let his head fall back against the chair and tipped up the beer again, taking a good swig of the cold, bitter fizz.
He’d really believed she’d been going to say yes. Yeah, she’d been uptight and thoughtful, but she’d also been more…well, not relaxed, but more something…Shit, he couldn’t even think straight. She’d begun to open up. And she’d looked almost…hopeful at the Vegas idea, but he had to open his big mouth and shoot the idea down, because he had wanted to give her time. Because he’d opened his mouth and grabbed Kincaid’s offer without thinking. His big mouth had ruined everything.
He opened his fist and studied the ring in the starlight. If she didn’t want him, why had she kept the ring on all these days?
Kay was too damned complicated. Face it, idiot.
The Kay he’d bought this ring for, the Kay he’d dreamed of when he’d bought the house was just some lovely collage of his mind. He’d be better off finding someone easy, someone who wanted to be loved, settle down and build a life together. He’d told himself this before, hadn’t he? Kay would never be easy, didn’t want to be loved, and had settled herself into a perfectly comfortable, solitary life of her own.
She didn’t need him or want him.
She sure as hell didn’t love him like he’d believed.
Which really sucked, because he loved and needed her. He crushed the can and pitched it hard. It hit the hillside with a wimpy, dull clatter and slid to glint accusingly in the moonlight.
He stood heavily and eyed the tent. No. No was no, and his ass was sleeping on the Whisper tonight. He retrieved the thrown can and dropped it in the recyclables.
He fetched a fresh beer and sat himself back in the chair, but no matter how he slouched he couldn’t get settled. Maybe if he got drunk and stayed drunk, he’d fumble through the coming hell of tomorrow somehow. He just had to get himself and the Whisper to the marina—Lloyd would take care of the Whisper later—then get his ass to the airstrip and onward to LAX, where Bev would meet up with him and catch the flight to Oahu. He’d grab his gear from the apartment he sublet from her there, and then he and Bev would be on another plane, London-bound. The complicated travel plans had been amazingly easy to book. He’d thought that a good sign at the time.
He had to laugh. He’d rented from Bev for ten years, and it’d be the first time they’d be on the island at the same time since the day Bev had handed him the key.
Did Kay assume he was going to have an affair with Bev on their travels like Kay’s father had apparently done on his business trips? She’d jumped to the wrong conclusion easily enough at Olivia’s innocent kiss.
Hell, he might as well leave the Whisper here with Lloyd and have Chuck drop him at the Marina. He’d ask Dave, but didn’t need Dave bitching at him the whole way.
That way he didn’t have to be sober for the next forty-eight hours.
Stupid plan, but the only one he had left he could handle.
****
After several hours of tossing and turning and sharp wakings from dozes with her heart racing and skin clammy, Kay was no closer to a satisfactory answer when the soft, unsteady crunch of Nate walking around the camp caught her ears. A hissing zip of a bag followed, then random hushed snaps, a clattering of small objects, a muffled, “Shit!”, the quiet brushing of his teeth and spitting.
His shuffling footsteps returned toward the tent and, to her surprise, he unzipped the tent netting.
“Nate?” Awkward hope and shame flamed over her. He hadn’t chosen to sleep on the boat?
He sat clumsily onto the edge of the cot, rocking their bed enough that Kay caught hold of the frame.
“Sorry I woke you,” he mumbled and slumped forward, resting elbows on his knees and scrubbing his hands over his face.
“I was awake.” She rose up on one arm.
Nate stayed quiet for several long minutes, face resting in his hands.
“Nate?” Swallowing hard, she touched his shoulder.
With a sigh, he leaned into her hand for a long moment, and then irritably jerked away, overbalanced, and caught the cot frame to steady himself. “G’to sleep.”
Hurt, guilt and worry spurted through Kay.
He straightened, and after two tries, he zipped the netting closed. He awkwardly collapsed alongside her, stretched out on his back, and exhaled a heavy groan smelling strongly of beer and minty toothpaste. His eyes fell shut.
How much had Nate had to drink? She’d never seen him drunk before. “Nate? Are you okay?”
Nate flinched and shook his head. “Got t’sleep. I’s late.” He rolled over without touching her.
She curled into her pillow, and the tears finally broke loose to soak the smooth cotton.
Sunday morning dawned cool and lovely, the sky innocent of the day’s coming heat. Any other morning waking with Nate beside her, Kay could have rolled over and spooned around the solid comfort of him. She’d ruined that option.
She slipped from under the blanket and off the cot. As she eased out of the tent, Nate fitfully flopped over into her vacated space and snored into her pillow.
She crept around the camp, trying to be quiet as she started the pot of coffee, washed her face and dressed. The lake stretched out glass smooth, reflecting the pastel dawn, with only the gentlest licking current at the gravel shore. The ordinary melody of morning began as red-winged blackbirds warmed up their calls, a mallard added its soft, inquiring quack, and a mourning dove fluttered into camp and cooed to its mate.
But the cool peace of the morning did nothing helpful for her thoughts. Her mind felt like a television with no signal, all static and frustrating interference.
Her eyes settled on her broken sandals, lying forgotten under the table. She bent and picked them up. The snapped leather straps were irreparable. She dropped them into the trash.
She’d just poured her second cup of coffee when she heard the zip of the tent netting behind her.
Nate unfolded out of the tent door, rumpled and shadow-eyed. “Hey.”
She fought to keep her voice casual as she poured him a cup and added his milk and sugar. “Hey, yourself. Do you want pancakes for breakfast?” Just like any other leaving day, right?
“Okay. Thanks.” He dropped his open toiletry kit on the table, dug around in heavy, frustrated movements, and finally pulled out an aspirin bottle. He shook some tablets into his hand and swallowed them with a gulp of coffee and a grimace. He winced and put on his sunglasses.
All during the awkwardly silent breakfast she had trouble meeting his eyes. The pancakes stuck like glue in her throat.
You could be truthful. Straight out ask him for time. When he comes home from his trip, both of you can sit down and see where you stand. The pressure will be off.
But she’d handed back the ring. She’d hurt him too much last night. A year apart would only make things worse, not better. Even if she did, he was still leaving. They were out of time.
Ask him to stay.
Ask him to give up this dream of his? Be like her mother, hold tight and hold him back, attack and undermine his talents and successes? No, no way. She didn’t trust herself or the jealousy she’d discovered in herself anymore, and Nate needed to be free.
Nate shoved away from the table. “Got to pack.” He’d only eaten half his normal serving and had twice his usual coffee. She wrapped the leftovers and put them in the ice chest.
Nate packed his boat, spending a good amount of time in the cabin—apparently, he’d decided to reorganize all the storage lockers or take a nap or something. Kay spent the time fussing over pencil sketches of the Whisper until it was time for the farewell lunch over at Spider Camp.
Nate emerged from the Whisper’s cabin just as she was ready to go see if he was sleeping.
They hiked over to the rest of the folks without talking. They should have taken the long way over, around the rocky shoreline, because the heat and glare was too much today. Nate’s face was pinched and he was squinting behind his dark sunglasses.
Lunch was low-key: simple tuna sandwiches, chips, and cookies, and the chatter split between the omnipresent topics of fish and Nate’s imminent adventure.
Nate joined the guys for a last round of skiing. Skiing was out for Kay with her banged-up palms. Unfortunately, that left her with JoAnn.
JoAnn had tried to pull Kay aside before lunch, and kept giving her narrow, laser-eyed glances and pointed frowns at Kay’s bare finger all through the meal. Mama hen was not happy.
JoAnn finally cornered Kay. “What happened? Why aren’t you wearing the ring?”
“I gave it back. It’s better this way. For both of us.” They were both better off with their freedom.
“Bullshit. Get real. He loves you and you love him. Make it work, Kay.” JoAnn crowded her and Kay backed away a step, coming up against the metal kitchen table.
“And how? And when? He’s leaving today. This expedition is a fantastic opportunity he can’t pass up. His dream. He needs his freedom and I want him to go.” All true.
“You two belong together.” JoAnn shook her head, blue eyes angry and confused. “This is so wrong, damn it!”
“It’s done, JoAnn.” Kay pasted on her smile and turned back to the group.
****
Nate’s headache pounded, and hitting the wakes was not helping the matter one bit.
This, dumbass, is why getting drunk is a stupid, stupid idea, remember? Didn’t you learn this lesson way back in college
?
And hadn’t he decided to sleep on the boat?
Waking up in Kay’s bed had been an awkward surprise. And since they weren’t really talking today, he had no idea what he might have done, and Kay’s defensive anxiety wasn’t giving him any reassuring clues.
Mark was doing good back there on the ski, looking more confident in his easy S’s on the wake and handling the crazy chop of wake crossings with more control and less wobbly rubber band posture.
“So what the hell is wrong with you and Kay? What’d you do?”
Dave’s vicious question had Nate whipping his head around in shock. “What did I do?” Ow, shit. Not a good move with the head.
“She’s miserable. The ring’s missing. You’re looking like a kicked dog. So what the hell did you do?” The snarl on Dave’s face would do a Doberman proud.
The wild urge to belt his best friend burned over Nate. “I didn’t do anything! She doesn’t love me. She doesn’t want to marry me. She gave the ring back. End of story.”
“Bullshit!”
Nate gave up on reasonable and shouted over the roar of the engine. “You know, I’m not the bad guy here! I have no choice. I have to leave today. What the hell else can I do? I’m out of time. I’ve tried everything. Talking. Listening. It hasn’t changed a damned thing.”
“You need to stick around and work it out.”
“Great advice from a man who thinks staying until breakfast with a one-night stand is a long-term relationship.”
“This isn’t about my life. It’s yours, shithead. Tell her you’re staying.”
“Give me one good reason why I should throw over the offer of my life and stay, because I’m really done with ripping my heart out here.”
“Because you love her, asshole. There’s plenty of jobs out there. Only one Kay.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t love me. Won’t love me. It’s a dead end and always has been. I’ve just been a fool and refused to see it.”
“She does love you. Damn it, you need to stay and give her time.”
“How much more time do I give? I’ve been trying for six years. Walking on eggshells for six years. Living on hope for six years. I finally got my life set so I could give her everything, so I wouldn’t have to hit the road anymore, so I could be with her for the rest of my life. That didn’t make her happy. Say I tell Kincaid thanks, but no thanks, and I stay? Then what? Be happy that I threw over the opportunity of my life, keep on with the broken record that I love her, and keep having it thrown back in my face? It’s taken six years, but I’m finally going to wise up and take the hint.”
“Shit, listen to me. She loves you, man. You got to keep your ass here.”
“She doesn’t love me. It’s done.”
“You’re a stupid fuck.”
“When you’re right, you’re right.” Nate turned away just in time to see Mark wipe out hard on the wake. “Mark’s down!” He whipped up the skier down flag.