Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(60)

“I’ll bet you were a handful,” she said.

“Got myself into a few scrapes.”

“I knew it. You were a rule breaker.”

“What do you mean, ‘were’?” He shrugged. “I was good at not getting caught, made the most of it.”

“I’ll just bet you did.”

Jake felt a smile pull his lips. She was almost flirting, but he wasn’t going to point it out. The moment he did, it would be over. He scanned the crowd for people he might know and need to avoid.

“What turned you around?”

“Who says I turned around?”

She laughed, and the sound reminded him of the wind chimes on the porch, bright and happy.

“All right, I turned around. Or rather, God turned me around.”

“God?” Surprise lined her tone, raised her brows.

“I’m not a heathen, you know.”

“Sorry. Go on.”

He’d have to be careful here. No mention of motorcycles, the mainland, or the motorcycle ministry that finally opened his eyes. “Met a friend about two years back who took me under his wing. Good man. I wanted what he had.”

“Which was . . . ?”

He looked at Meridith. She took the kids to church faithfully each week. This wasn’t news to her. “A relationship with God. He showed me how it’s done.” Actually, Eva and T. J. had planted the seeds, but he couldn’t say that. He pulled the leather strip of his necklace, freeing the silver cross from his shirt. “This was his.”

“Where is he now?”

“Died about a year ago after fighting lung cancer awhile.” He’d been sick when he’d met up with Jake at a cycle hangout in Tallulah, Louisiana.

“No brothers or sisters?”

He thought of Eva and how hard he’d worked to find her after turning eighteen and heading out on his own. It seemed like the system had conspired to keep them apart. “Pretty much all alone in the world.”

“I’m an only child too.” She seemed to remember the kids. “Well, I guess I’m not. They feel more like my children than my siblings.”

“Responsibility will do that.”

“It is a lot of responsibility.”

Two women he knew from church approached, waving.

“Jake, we’ve been looking for you,” Sierra said.

The other one, Rowan, touched his shoulder. “A few of us are going out on my boat after the picnic, then back to my house for pizza and a movie. I hope you’ll come . . .” Her blue eyes begged.

“Can I let you know later?”

“You have my number,” Sierra said, her gaze flickering toward Meridith.

“Get a cell phone,” Rowan said, sashaying away. “You are way too hard to track down.”

Especially when he was hiding from the public at large.

“Girlfriend?” Meridith asked once the girls disappeared in the throng of people.

“Friends from church.” Jake rubbed his jaw, unsure why he found the attention embarrassing.

“You should go with them—you don’t have to babysit me.”

“Nah.”

Meridith removed the ice pack and put it in the cooler, then offered him a Coke. She closed the lid and propped up her foot again. The swelling had gone down, but it was still discolored.

“I can drive the car back,” he said. “I rode up with a friend.”

Meridith flexed her foot and winced. “That might be best. Thanks.” She settled her elbows on the aluminum chair’s arms. Her diamond ring glinted in the sun.

He wondered if she’d told Lover Boy about the kids yet. It was nearly May. School would be out in a month. Might as well ask, since she was so chatty.

He couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the sparkling rock. “You tell him about the kids yet?”

She followed his gaze to her hand. “Oh.” She straightened the diamond, then cradled her hand in her lap. “I did, actually.”

He tried to read her expression, gave up. “How’d it go?”

“Not so well.”

Maybe Wyatt was right. Maybe it was about to hit the fan. He found himself irrationally pleased, and not just on account of the kids.

“You’re still wearing the ring.”

“It didn’t go that badly. I think Stephen needs time to adjust to the idea. And once he gets to know the children . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she finally pressed her lips together.

Maybe if they called off the wedding, she’d move to Nantucket, keep Summer Place. As soon as hope began to swell, a sharp prick of guilt popped the bubble. Meridith obviously loved the guy. Who was Jake to wish a broken heart on her? Besides, while a breakup might mean she kept the kids here, it also meant he was up the creek with his identity.

“Jake! Hey, buddy!” Another acquaintance approached, transferring his glass of wine for a handshake.

“Mr. Stanford,” Jake said, standing.

Did the man know about Eva? He prayed nothing would be said to give him away.

“You were right,” Mr. Stanford said. “Those windows made a huge difference in heating costs this winter.”

“Glad I could help. Mr. Stanford, this is Meridith . . .” My employer? My friend? My late sister’s stepdaughter? He closed his mouth.