Crown Jewels (Off-Limits Romance #1)(55)

“So no pirates?” she teases.

“Only us.”

We row in silence for a while. All I can think about, as I look at the island, with its rocky shore and small, twin peaks and waterfalls and thick trees, is my mum. I can’t believe I’m bringing Lucy here. It’s been years since I got near this place.

We get out on the southern shore of the mile-long island, small rocks crunching under our feet. The deep blue water of the loch is crystal clear up by the shore, lapping at our boots.

As I turn and grab the first of our bags, Lucy stretches her arms out, and I realize she’s going to get them from me one at a time, and set them on dry ground.

When I hesitate, she snorts. “I won’t break.”

So together we unload the boat. Then I pull it up onto the rocky shore and haul it up a small embankment.

I come back down to the beach and find Lucy hefting two bags. I grab the others and we make our way up into the trees, to an outcropping that hangs over the water. She sits down on the rocky ground. I sit down beside her.

“This is gorgeous.”

I nod.

Wind whips some of my hair into my face, and I think of how I need to cut it. I’m not sure why I’ve left it long like this, or why I’ve left the beard. I guess because it makes me feel like someone else.

I am someone else, I think.

Then I feel Lucy’s hand on my cheek. I look over, and her face is right beside mine, smiling softly. She pulls my hat off, still smiling at me as she pulls my hair back up into its rubber band, and puts the hat back on. My eyes are closing in the warm, pale sunlight bleeding through the clouds.

“That feels good,” I rumble. Why’s she playing with my hair?

She takes the hat back off, and somehow I end up lying in her lap with my eyes closed, her fingers stroking through my hair.

“I like your hair. It’s really pretty, kind of the color of cinnamon.”

I want to tell her it’s darker in the winter, but I’m too tired to say a word. I just lie there, half asleep, thinking about wisps of things I can’t quite catch and listening to the gentle lap of water.

When I wake up, I find myself alone on the rock, my cheek pressed into something soft and red that smells like her. I blink into the sunlight. Glance around. I sit slowly, and realize there’s a sweater draped over my legs.

I spot Lucy back down at the shore. She’s got her pants rolled up and is wading around, ankle-deep, in the cool water.

I see her lunge for the surface, hands cupped, and watch her stand up laughing. Her hair flows around her shoulders.

I watch her as she does the same thing again, and I realize she’s trying to catch a fish. I smile, thinking of the fishing lodge on the other side of the island. Maybe we should spend the night there instead of the tree-houses.

I grab the pack she left beside me, throw it over my shoulder, and walk around the pile of bags at the top of the embankment, heading slowly down the grassy plane.

Lucy sees me as I reach the shore. She smiles at me and spins around.

I can’t help chuckling as I approach her. “You look like you’re having fun.”

She tilts her head, still smiling. “I am. It’s gorgeous here. Paradise.”

I grab her hand, but I don’t twine my fingers through it. I trace my thumb over her knuckles, wanting so damn much to bring her fingers to my lips.

I think about Dru and all her promises. About Ronald. Reality unwinds around me like a sticky web I can’t get out of. I know I can’t. And I would never want her stuck with me.

I let go of her hand and hear my own voice say, “I’m glad you like it.”

I sound hollow. Far away.

Tonight, I need to keep my distance. It’s wrong to have Lucy here at all, but so much worse to get entangled with her.





*





Lucy





“So, you want to have a picnic? Up there on the rock, or in the trees?” He points.

“Sure.”

We walk up the hill together, and I can’t help noticing Liam’s mood. He seems reserved. Even his shoulders are held stiffly. When he looks at me, his eyes don’t linger.

Down by the water, when he grabbed my hand, I felt like he was going to kiss it. Now he seems so far away.

We sit on the rock again, the same place I played with his hair, and have a lunch of smoked sausage, cheese, and rosemary bread. Liam looks out at the water as much as he looks at my face as he drinks his wine and listens to me talk about my job in Estes.

“I’m probably boring the hell out of you.”

“No,” he says quickly, finishing his wine. He pours himself some more, and once again, he offers me some.

“That’s okay. I’m really not much of a drinker.”

Especially pregnant.

Adrenaline shoots through me, but I tell myself I’ve already decided I won’t tell him today or tonight. I turn the conversation to the island, and Liam tells me it’s his family’s private property, a getaway with tree-houses, hot springs, a giant fishing lodge, and zip-lines.

“There’s a staff here when someone from the family has a big retreat. I didn’t call them out, though.”

“Good. I’ll help you if there’s anything we need to do,” I tell him.

He nods, looking distracted. By the time we load up and walk off the rock, Liam’s interest in talking to me seems to have waned.