The Bad Boys of Eden (129 page)

“I’m sorry? That’s all you have to say?”

He finally looked up then and in that moment, she knew, no matter what he said, she would rather have lived with not knowing.

“We were just kids.”

Lauren took another drink of her wine and sputtered at that.

“Just kids? It was only six years ago, Marc. I’m almost thirty now. I think I was more than just a kid.” If he dared to use that as an excuse...

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” Marc sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. She could tell he was nervous.

“I made a mistake. One I’ve regretted every day since.”

She swallowed hard. She wanted to stop him, to tell him to stop, but she couldn’t. She knew, though, that she would hate everything he was about to tell her. Everything she’d worried about but never wanted to admit.

“You never came, did you?” she said.

He shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

She almost sighed with relief. He didn’t come because his mother was sick. That had to be it.

“I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of our future.” He stared at her, a plea in his gaze, and she tried so hard to be understanding.

“What about the stories you told me of your parents? How they were soul mates and how you wanted a love like that. How we could have a love like that. Did you lie to me?”

Marc reached out to her but she stepped out of his reach.

“I didn’t lie. But once you were gone, reality sunk in and I...I wasn’t ready. Lauren, I wasn’t ready for what love really meant.”

That hit her in the gut, hard. “What did you think it meant? That it would ruin your life?” By the look on his face, that’s exactly what he’d thought.

After six years of wondering why he never showed up, never contacted her...now she knew and it wasn’t what her dreams had been made of.

“Reality sucks, sometimes,” she whispered. “I’ve held you up to a high standard. I loved you. Loved you. But I never really knew you, did I?” Her nostrils flared as she struggled not to cry. She needed to get out of here, away from him. But he stepped towards her and reached out. She smacked his hand away, wishing it had been his face or chest she’d hit instead. “Leave me alone.”

She rushed through the door, not caring that she’d just left her heart broken on the floor behind her, and ran down the hallway. She almost tripped over Tyler, who stood there at the end.

“Whoa, slow down.” Tyler’s grip on her arms soothed her. She sank into him and let the feel of his arms around her comfort her.

“Can you take me back, please.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt.

“Lauren.” Marc called her name.

She raised her head and looked up at Tyler. “Please?” she begged.

She read the concern in his gaze and breathed a sigh of relief at his nod. He turned them both and went down a short hallway until they exited through a door, down another hallway and then out into the night.

Lauren tilted her head back as a warm breeze wrapped itself around her.

“Looks like the storm ended, just in time,” Tyler said. He led her to a cart, helped her in and then drove down a pathway. Lauren had no idea where they were but she knew they were headed towards the water. The sound of the surf crashing upon the sand welcomed her as they pulled up to the wood deck.

Without a word, Tyler helped her out of the cart and walked with her up to the cottage. The lights were on, candles aflame all around the room and the tears welled up again.

“Are you going to be okay?” Tyler asked.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak before she shook her head. No, she wasn’t going to be okay. She was confused. More than confused. Hurt and even a little angry, but she wasn’t sure who to blame.

“Do you...would you like some company?” Tyler asked her.

Lauren let out a small laugh, which turned into a cry. She sat down on the couch and sobbed into her hands. Tyler joined her and pulled her into his arms, giving her a refuge while she continued to cry.

Eventually she sat up and patted at his now wet chest. She took the tissue he held out to her and wiped her eyes and nose. She wasn’t a pretty crier; she knew her face would be all blotchy, her nose swollen and her eyes bright red, so she attempted to hide her face from him.

Tyler scooted to the edge of the couch and briefly touched her knee. “How about some chocolate?” he asked.

She laughed, and when she realized it sounded like a croak, she laughed again.

“I never did get dessert,” she said.

His eyes widened. “We need to fix that then. Why don’t you go have a hot bath and relax and I’ll make sure you get some of that dessert I heard was being made for you tonight. Okay?”

She pulled her knees up to her chest and nodded.

“Are you going to be okay?” He asked.

She attempted a small smile. “I’ll be fine after that chocolate.” Chocolate was always the answer, no matter the situation.

“I’ll come by in the morning and take you for breakfast, okay?”

“You won’t be back?” The minute she asked, she knew she’d been a fool. Of course he wouldn’t be. He wasn’t the reason she was here and it wasn’t fair of her to lean on him right now.

“Forget it—silly question.” She let out a long sigh. “See you tomorrow.” She rubbed her face, sniffled a bit and rested her head back on the couch while Tyler left.

Now what? What was she supposed to do? Marc was here. HERE. She’d envisioned this night for years, working through scenarios if she ever met him again. Never had she thought of this one.

She jumped up from the couch and headed into the bedroom, where her phone rested on the nightstand. She picked it up and checked to ensure there was a signal.

Tell me you didn’t know. She texted Lexi.

While she waited for a response, she headed into the bathroom where a large, two-person claw tub sat, and started the water. A long soak was exactly what she needed right now.

Thirty minutes later, her phone buzzed.

Give him a chance, Lexi texted back.

Lauren couldn’t believe what she read. Lexi had known. She’d known and not said anything.

Give him a chance? Are you kidding me? How could you? You should have told me. Given me a heads-up at least.

I’m sorry.

So am I. Lauren had no idea what to do now.

He loves you.

Lauren snorted at that. So much, that he stood me up six years ago and never looked back.

Let him explain. Please.

Explain? What could he possibly say?

No. She thought she’d been in love with a man, but all she’d been in love with was a memory. And that hurt more than anything else.

How was she supposed to deal with that?

Chapter Seven

He’d paced his cottage all night and waited for the lights in her room to go out. It had taken everything inside him to leave her alone, to not go to her and try to explain.

Last night had been a disaster.

He’d almost been out the door when the light in her room finally went out. He could have kicked himself for chickening out, for not manning up and going after her.

What had he been thinking?

He’d finally sent Paul a text and Lexi her own separate one and realized what an ass he’d been. Give her time, was their advice. But he knew better. He’d known better. She’d already had six years—why had he allowed another minute to go by? Why?

He checked the time and hoped he’d given her more than enough time to get up and get dressed. He wasn’t willing to waste another minute without her by his side. He didn’t care whether she was angry or sad or...no, he lied. He did care. He cared more than he thought possible.

Watching her run from him last night just about killed him. But to see her in another man’s arms destroyed him.

He reached for the bag she’d left behind last night and left his small cottage. The moment he stepped outside, the bright glare from the sun blinded him and despite lowering his sunglasses, it took a few seconds for him to see that he wasn’t alone on the deck.

Lauren was there, outside his door. Waiting for him.

“Hi, neighbor,” she said. Her voice was low, a bit hesitant but it warmed him like the sun couldn’t.

He swallowed.

“Hi, back.” Hi back? That’s what he said? Honestly? He joined her at the railing, where she was half leaning, and handed her the bag in his hands.

“Thanks.” She set the bag down and leaned her elbows on the wood rail to stare out over the ocean.

He couldn’t take his gaze off her. She was beautiful. Her dark brown hair shimmered in the sunlight; the length of it rested on her shoulders and curled down around the tops of her arms. She wore a beautiful white sundress with soft pink sandals and her skin glowed.

She was a goddess and he so much wanted to kiss her.

He turned and stared out over the water as well, hoping to find something there to hold his attention but there was nothing. Just...water. So he turned back to her, not caring if she noticed.

“Have you had breakfast?” he asked. They could talk about why she took off last night later. Right now, all he wanted was to spend time with her. He realized last night that he needed to try a different tactic with her.

Six years ago, there had been an instant connection. He needed to prove to her that it was still there. He’d seen it last night between them before everything had fallen apart. He planned to go slow, to show her that he was still the same guy she’d fallen in love with in Paris.

“Not yet. I was...I was going to see if you wanted to join me?” A brief smile kissed her lips and his heart swelled.

“Funny, I was about to do the same. I figured if this island is as magical as it’s made out to be, we should be able to find a proper croissant or baguette somewhere, right?”

Lauren groaned. “I would kill for a Parisian baguette right about now. American bread just isn’t the same.”

His brow lifted. “Is that right? Well then, let’s go find one, shall we?” He held out his hand and caught the way she hesitated before she reached out and placed her hand in his.

“We need to talk—” she began but he cut her off.

“Breakfast first. We can talk about last night later. There’s no rush, okay?” He needed her relaxed, not all tense and apprehensive.

“Okay.” Her shoulders relaxed and when she took in a deep breath and then let it out, he knew there was a chance.

“Let me just put this bag back inside.” She glanced down inside the bag and hesitated. “I forgot about this.” She pulled out a box with a brown colored bow and held it up. “Tyler gave this to me last night and I was going to open it after my massage.”

Marc stilled...he knew what was in the box and he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to open it right now.

“Oh, I wonder if it’s more chocolates.” She bit her lip as she played with the brown ribbon. “Although, more chocolates would be a bit of a letdown, especially after getting Paul’s gold boxed chocolates.”

“You got one of those?” Who would have given them to her? Paul? The guy who owned the island? What was written on it?

Her face lit up. “I did. And I’m not sharing.” Her eyes twinkled and he was reminded about her love for chocolate. “Unless...any way you could convince Paul to send me more of those boxes?”

Marc took his time answering that. His friendship with Paul was the reason she took off last night.

“I can’t even get these.” He decided to be honest.

She scrunched up her nose at that but when her stomach grumbled, she placed the box back in the bag. “I’ll worry about this after breakfast.”

Marc waited for her to open her cottage door and slip the bag inside.

“How did you know where I was staying?” he asked.

She lifted her shoulder. “I had a hunch after something Tyler said last night.”

“What was that?”

She looked as if she were about to answer but then stopped. There was something in her gaze, mischievous but happy. Satisfied even. He knew he could prod but didn’t want to. She’d tell him eventually. He hoped.

They walked down the boardwalk and made their way along the beach. More buildings were off in the distance. Not in a rush, Marc made sure his pace was slow to match Lauren’s. He asked her a few questions about her flight to the island and whether she’d done any exploring so far.

“I thought maybe today, I would. There was a pamphlet in the room detailing today’s activities. Did you know there is a sunken ship somewhere close by?” Lauren said.

“Do you snorkel?” He hoped she said no.

“I love it. You?”

As much as he hated to admit it, he shook his head and gazed out at the water. “I can’t swim.”

He’d only admitted that to a few people. He loved the beach, the feel of the sand beneath his feet and thoroughly enjoyed visiting the coast during the weekend with Paul and playing a round of beach volleyball. But other than playing around in the water close to the shoreline in France, he never went any farther than his chest.

Paul knew he couldn’t swim and made fun of him on a constant basis. Only Lexi knew why.

He expected to see pity or sadness in Lauren’s gaze but what he didn’t expect was for her to reach out and touch him. She laid her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“Then snorkling is out of the question.”

He smiled down at her, thankful for her understanding. That’s when it hit him, a memory from when they’d first met. She’d wanted to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower and had tried to coax him into going up with her. When he’d finally confessed his fear of heights, going to the top of the tower wasn’t a goal for her anymore. Just like that. No pouting, no guilt trips. Just acceptance.

Even then she’d been an angel.

They rounded a corner and came upon what looked like a beach cafe, complete with outdoor tables and umbrellas. To the side was a lounge area with wicker furniture all situated so you could sit and watch the water.

“Let’s stop here,” Lauren said. She headed to a table, sat down, leaned back and smiled with contentment. She looked happy, which made him happy. And sappy.

He couldn’t believe how sappy he felt. Paul would rib him for sure.

“Do you think they’ll have baguettes and hand-squeezed orange juice?” she asked him as he sat down beside her.

“If the island is as magical as I’m told it is, they should.”

“Should we test it?” Her eyes twinkled.

“How?” He was game.

“What’s something you’ve craved for breakfast but can never find?”

Marc thought about that. Since his parents’ passing, he’d missed his mom’s shirred eggs. She would add homegrown herbs from her window box, some mushroom and ham and serve it for breakfast on the weekends.

“It would be sweet if they had oeuf cocotte.” He wondered whether she would know what that meant.

She cocked her head and stared up at him. “That means shirred egg, right?”

“Oui. Très bon.”

He felt as if he’d just won a lifetime of eggs from the way she smiled up at him.

“The last time Jess came home from one of her trips to France, she only spoke French to us for a month.” She shook her head.

“She did that because...”

Lauren groaned. “She thought it would add a new component to our company if we could speak in different languages. As much as I hated her for it at the time, it’s worked to our advantage over and over. We now all take classes in different languages.”

“How many languages can you speak?”

“Not as many as you’d think. French and a bit of German. That’s it. I’m to start a new class next month to improve my German. It’s a nine-week course and I promised myself if I got an A, then I would plan a trip there.”

“Impressive. German’s an easy language to learn. It’s been awhile since I was last there.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “Don’t tell me you’re fluent.”

His reply was to shrug his shoulder.

“Marc.” She sighed. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“I can’t speak Korean. Or Japanese. Or Chinese. Or snorkel.”

“True. Okay, I can handle that. So you’re not perfect. Good to know.” Her cheeks blushed and she lowered her gaze to the table.

Just then, someone Marc only assumed was the waiter came out and handed them menus. The kid looked like someone who should be on a surf board and not serving tables.

“Question,” Marc asked the guy. “Do you have fresh baguettes, fresh squeezed orange juice and—”

“It’s all in the menu, dude.”

“Excuse me?” Lauren said. She sat up in her chair and frowned.

“I’m just filling in. I work in the surf shop but somethin’s going on over at the mainland and I was sent here.” The kid shrugged and crossed his arms.

“Do you know what?” Marc asked.

“Nope.”

“Okay then.” Marc looked over the menu and found exactly what he’d been hoping to find.

“I’ll have the Parisian special number five.”

“And I’ll have the number two,” Lauren said.

Marc glanced over down to see what Lauren had ordered and smiled. Two hard boiled eggs, half a baguette with homemade jam, and freshly squeezed orange juice.

Exactly what she’d wanted.

They handed the kid their menus.

“So there may be a little bit of magic after all,” Lauren said.

“We’ll see if the eggs are as good as my mom’s.” Marc winked at her.

“How are your parents?”

Marc glanced away. He stared out into the ocean and watched the way the waves gently rolled onto the shore and thought about his mom and how she’d loved the trips to the ocean when he was a child.

“They passed away about a year ago,” he said.

“Both of them?”

He nodded and swallowed, hard. “Mom passed away first. She just died in her sleep one night. Dad...” He swallowed again and shifted in his seat. “Dad went shortly after. I think it was too much for him, being alone after so long. He told me his place was with my mom, that he was only half the man he used to be and a few days later, he was gone.”

Lauren leaned forward and grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Marc nodded but didn’t say anything. He still choked up when he thought of it. Of them. Of their love. It was because of his parents that he believed in soul mates and true love and love at first sight. Because he knew it was real.

“They loved each other with a passion I’ve never seen before. I...I can only hope to love as hard as my father did. Mom was his life.” He smiled and stared down into Lauren’s eyes. “She was his heart and soul, and he knew it from the moment they first met.” He didn’t look away, just prayed that she understood what he tried to say.

“I think I would be lost without my parents. I know how important they were to you. I’m sorry.”

The silence grew between them at that.

Their server came back out with some cups and a canister of coffee. He set it down and attempted to pour until Lauren reached out and helped him. She steadied the coffee cups and took the cream and sugar from his tray and set it down on the table.

“Sorry,” the guy mumbled beneath his breath before he headed back into the cafe.

“Poor kid.” Lauren poured him a cup of coffee before she filled her own cup. Marc drank his black but if his memory was right, Lauren needed both sugar and cream in hers.

“Black?” he said, a bit surprised.

She brought the cup up close to her mouth and inhaled. “It took me a bit, but it was either drink coffee black or give up chocolate.”

“What?”

“A bet between me and Melanie. I lost.”

“Do I even dare to ask?” From the look on her face, she didn’t seem too bothered to have lost.