After All (Cape Harbor #1)(79)
“B?”
She inhaled deeply and choked on a sob. “That was Carly. Austin’s boat . . . the storm . . . they can’t find him.” She collapsed onto the floor just as Bowie threw his phone down. He couldn’t catch her in time, but he could hold her, and that’s what he did until both of them were strong enough to make it down to the port to wait for news.
“You know, even in death, Austin kept us apart,” he said, breaking the silence between them. He picked up a shell and tossed it toward the water. “Why did it take you fifteen years to come back?”
She shook her head. “I never found a reason to, I guess.”
“Until now?”
“Carly called and asked me to come back. It was the first time she had. I really hadn’t seen her after Brystol was born; I always had some excuse or some job that needed to be done. My parents saw her, though, when they would hand Brystol off for visitation.”
“What are you going to do now?”
Brooklyn let out a long sigh. “Well, it seems I have two choices. Brystol inherits everything, so I can either sell the inn and go back to doing what I do, or I can run it, and let Brystol decide when she’s old enough.” She hugged her knees tighter to her chest.
“You weren’t planning to stay, were you?” Even before he asked, he knew the answer. The other night, while it was a breakthrough for him, she still had Austin’s memory to contend with.
“No, I wasn’t. I came to do a job. In fact, my next one should start in October. I need to figure out a plan because I can’t leave my clients hanging. With that said, Brystol wants to go to a real school. My parents want us to be close, and Carly . . .” She paused. “She wants us—and by us, she means you, Brystol, and me—to spread her ashes where Austin’s boat went down. She has the coordinates written down.”
“Why me?”
Brooklyn turned her head and glanced at Bowie. If she was surprised to find him looking at her, she didn’t say anything. She smiled. It was soft and kind. “If I had to guess, I think she might think you’re my knight in shining armor. She likes you, Bowie. And I know she regrets the way the last fifteen years turned out for her. But losing Austin, it really did a number on her.”
“On all of us,” he said. He turned his attention back to the water. Aside from the usual boats, a group of surfers had taken to the waves. “I told Brystol that I would take her out on the sailboat, that we’d go hiking and I’d teach her how to fish. Those are all things Austin would’ve taught her.”
“Bowie . . .”
He held up his hand, silently asking her to let him finish. Bowie scooted in front of Brooklyn. He took her legs and placed them on either side of his hips and held her hands. “I have something to ask you, but I want you to let me say what I need to say before you reply or say anything. When I first saw you at the inn, it was like seeing a ghost. It had been years since I thought about you, and then you were standing right there, and all my feelings came rushing back. As much as I wanted to hate you, I couldn’t. But I did hate you for a long time for leaving me. I couldn’t understand why you left without saying anything and why you didn’t ask me to go with you. And then, I see this teenage version of you, and I’m angry. I’m so damn angry that you kept Austin’s daughter from us, that you didn’t give us a chance to be in her life, so I’m counting the days until the project’s over and I never have to see you again. Except, I don’t want you to leave because I’d rather live with the hate than not see you and not be a part of Brystol’s life. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way . . . we’ve all missed you.
“Then you show up at Austin’s bonfire memorial, and our group—the friends we grew up with—they see Brystol, and they’re hurt because they didn’t know about her. And then we’re sharing these moments while we’re working on the inn and we almost kiss—it’s all confusing as hell right now, B. I haven’t felt flustered by a girl since high school, but when it comes to you, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, and Graham isn’t helping because he’s talking some serious nonsense, and part of me doesn’t believe him, but I still have to ask . . . is there any chance Brystol is my daughter? Because he’s put this thought in my head, and I’ve had a chance to think about it and our night together, and I feel like there’s a chance that she could be. I feel like we need to have a DNA test done, and it kills me to ask, because if it proves that Brystol isn’t mine, that Austin is her father, then I’m scared that any connection we had—or have—will be gone.”
Brooklyn gasped and tried to pull her hands away, but Bowie held on tightly. He wasn’t letting her go. He wasn’t going to allow her to run away again. He watched her expectantly, waiting for her to answer. She looked down at the sand or maybe their hands—he couldn’t be sure—but she didn’t say a word, and the silence was killing him.
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally met his eyes. “I told you why I left. I was ashamed, and I didn’t want your friends turning on you. I didn’t want the town turning on me. No one would ever believe that behind closed doors, Austin wasn’t a saint. You and I know him differently, but to everyone else, he’s on this pedestal. What we did that night, it wasn’t going to matter what our reasoning was behind it because on the same night it happened, he died. Austin and I fought, he told me he didn’t love me, and for some reason we’ll never understand, he thought it was a good idea to take his boat out in the storm. It was better to let people think I was a heartbroken girlfriend instead of a woman who fell between the sheets with another man. I was weak and cared far too much about what people thought of me.” Brooklyn took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.