Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(20)

“My favorite ones do.”

Justine’s smile turned rueful. “About the question you asked me last night … the most I can tell you is that we were together almost a year. He’s a nice guy. I was lucky to be with him. But we broke up because … I don’t do well with nice guys.”

“Good,” he said promptly. “You can go out with me, then.”

She shook her head.

“Justine,” he chided, a wicked glint in those dark eyes. “What will it take to soften you up?”

“I’m sorry. Really. Any woman would be thrilled by the idea of going out to dinner with you. But you and I are not just from different worlds, we’re from different realities.”

“In these matters, I’ve learned not to factor in reality,” he said. “It’s very limiting.”

“The whole thing is pointless. I don’t do vacation flings or spontaneous hookups, and I don’t have any Cinderella fantasies about some rich guy sweeping me off my feet. So thanks for asking, but I think it’s better for both of us if I turn you down.”

“All I want is to spend a little time with you,” he said gently. “No games. We can talk about anything you want. Or not talk at all. Just you and me in a quiet place with a bottle of wine and maybe some candlelight.” Reading the uncertainty in her gaze, he added huskily, “Don’t say no. Because this has never happened to me before.”

“What hasn’t happened?”

Jason smiled into her puzzled face, a sincere and unexpectedly charming smile. “I can’t put it into words yet. But it may be as close as I’ll ever get to having a soul.”

Eight

Immediately after Justine had agreed to go out with Jason, she had known it was a mistake. Now that she’d committed to it, however, there was no backing out. “It may be as close as I’ll ever get to having a soul.” How was she supposed to refuse him after that?

After clearing the breakfast dishes and bringing them to the kitchen, she carried a bucket of cleaning supplies upstairs. Annette and Nita, local women who came to help clean the inn, were already busy stripping the beds.

“Nita, how are you feeling?” Justine asked, entering the Degas room and setting the bucket on the floor.

The petite young woman, whose Coast Salish heritage was evident in her gleaming black hair and smooth cinnamon skin, smiled and patted her still-flat stomach. “Pretty good. I’d be better if I didn’t have to take horse-pill vitamins.”

“Make sure not to overdo it today, Nita,” Justine said. “Take a break whenever you need to.”

“Annette and I already have it worked out. She’s going to do the heavy lifting, and I’ll handle all the dusting.”

Annette grinned and told Justine, “Nita was determined to come to work today, no matter what. She wanted to get a look at Jason Black.”

“Did you?” Justine asked.

Nita nodded, her expression turning dreamy. “Sweet, sweet man-candy.”

“He’s pretty good-looking,” Justine admitted with a rueful grin.

“He’s hot,” Annette said fervently. “The Inari people were leaving the bed-and-breakfast just as we were heading in, and Mr. Black held the door open for us, and the second he looked at me, I felt my ovaries explode while that Seal song ‘Kiss from a Rose’ started playing in the back of my head.”

“Jason Black is mine,” Nita said, spraying ammonia solution onto the bedroom mirror. “We’re like one of those movies where fate wants us to meet and we keep missing each other, and then when we find each other, I’m accidentally engaged to John Corbett. But John Corbett lets us off the hook because he never stands in the way of true love.” She ran a squeegee over the glass in expert strokes.

“Nita,” Annette said, “you’re happily married and pregnant.”

“For Jason Black, I would kill my husband with this squeegee.” Nita paused reflectively. “I might even kill him for John Corbett.”

Justine was laughing. “Death by squeegee … how does that work, Nita?”

“Well, basically you—”

“No, never mind. I don’t need to know. I have to sweep and mop downstairs.” And she fled while Annette and Nita argued over who was going to end up with Jason.

After working for the rest of the morning and the first part of the afternoon, Justine went into the office and closed the door for privacy. Picking up her cell phone, she autodialed the Cauldron Island lighthouse where Rosemary and Sage lived.

She called frequently to ask how they were and to find out if they needed anything. In good weather, she would paddle her sea kayak across the nautical mile between the north of San Juan Island and Cauldron Island to visit them weekly.

The elderly women, who had lived together for almost forty years, refused to consider moving to a less isolated place. Cauldron Island was approximately two square miles in size, with only a handful of full-time residents. The only way to reach the island was by private boat, or to land a small aircraft on a mown grass landing strip.

Coven meetings were held at the lighthouse about a half dozen times a year. Marigold attended the meetings, of course, and according to Rosemary and Sage, she was doing well. She had started an Internet store that sold magical supplies, including herbs, stones, candles, divination tools, and even some bath and cosmetic products.