Page 43 of Escape to Lighthouse Cove

This time Grace couldn’t suppress the sigh. “Isaiah, it’s not like that,” she said with a shake of her head. She’d already suspected the old man was matchmaking, but now he was clearly choosingnotto hold his cards close to his chest. The thought that he might be saying similar things to Noah made her want to curl up in shame yet again. She was thirty-four, for heaven’s sake, with a marriageanda divorce under her belt. She didn’t need to conduct this relationship, or any relationship, like she was in junior high, passing notes or telling so-and-so to tell Noah what she felt… or what he didn’t.

Which begged the question, Grace acknowledged wryly, whyshewas acting like she was in junior high, refusing to talk or even look at Noah. She really needed to get over herself.

“His brother’s death hurt him,” Isaiah continued quietly. “A lot. He’s still recovering?—”

“I know,” Grace interrupted him, doing her best to keep her voice gentle. “And I appreciate that, truly. But Isaiah… I don’t think either of us is in the right place for a relationship, no matter what you might want.” Saying as much out loud made her cringe—again—but she wanted to be honest. Besides, it wasn’t like a relationship between them was even an option. “I’m sorry,” she told him, “but whatever romantic notions you’re nurturing for him—and I know you care for him a lot—are not going to happen with me.” She smiled to take any sting from her words and then, with a wave of farewell, turned to walk back down the drive, toward the lane that led to the fishermen’s cottages and the warden’s lodge.

As she strolled past, Jethro, the retired fisherman who had returned from Florida, came out onto his back porch and watched her, his hands on his hips, his expression settled into a familiar scowl. Over the last few weeks, Grace had seen him several times and knew him only to wave to. He seemed as grumpy as Bab had warned, and so they’d never made any real chitchat. Now he called out, his voice carrying, “Seems like you’re up at the big house plenty, missy.”

Grace groaned inwardly. How could there be so much gossip on an island with a population of nine? Maybe that was why there was.

“Chess lessons for my son!” she called back, doing her best to sound cheerful, and then stepped up her pace as she headed back to the lodge.

Once she was safely inside, however, Grace found she couldn’t quite settle to anything. She messed around with the new website she was creating for the nature reserve, and then worked on the proposal she wanted to present to Isaiah, but after only a few minutes she felt too restless to keep at it, and so she got up to fill the kettle for a cup of tea, staring out at the ocean, its waves dancing and glinting under the spring sunshine, as she waited for it to boil.

She’d already been living on Lighthouse Cove Island for nearly a whole month. By the time her six-month contract finished, she needed to have a plan for her future. Jacob would need to go back to school—he was meant to be starting first gradesomewherein September—and she needed to figure out a job, a home. Where she wanted to live, what she wanted to do, assuming it wasn’t here. She knew the six-month contract could be renewed, but could she seriously think about staying in such a remote place long term? She supposed Jacob could go to school on the mainland, but she’d never seen her life here as more than temporary.

At least not until she’d arrived, and gotten to know Noah, and started dreaming about what the nature reserve could be…

But were those kinds of dreams dangerous? Maybe it would be better to start new again, even if right now that seemed overwhelming.

She’d been without a real purpose for too long, Grace reflected, and being the warden here had given her a taste of what it was like to be useful and productive. So maybe she needed to think about her future and what it could hold, rather than worry about what was happening with her life here on the island, when she knew she wouldn’t be here for very long.

The kettle clicked off, and Grace set about making tea. Tonight, after Jacob was in bed, she’d go online and look at some potential job openings. She might have five more months here, but she could still focus on her future rather than the what-if that was definitelynothappening.

The thought should have made her feel better, but for some reason it didn’t.

Grace took her tea back to the sofa, curling up on one corner just like she had the other day, when she and Noah had shared so many personal, private things. But why was she thinking about that? Him?Still?

Yes, their heart-to-heart had felt intimate and important, especially for her, when she hadn’t shared that stuff about Brad with anyone. There had been no one to share it with. But it had been one conversation, one barely-there kiss, and she needed to forget all about it.Him.

Determined to refocus her thoughts, Grace sipped her tea and flipped through a magazine until it was time to pick Jacob up. She knew she could have used a free hour far more productively, but right then she was just glad it was over. She’d fetch Jacob and give him a little iPad time before dinner, and she could work on the website a little more. Hopefully Isaiah would be waiting with him by the door, and she wouldn’t even have to see Noah.

That, of course, turned out to be so much wishful thinking. Grace was only halfway up the drive when the front door opened and Noah stood there, framed by the doorway, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. He looked like a modern-day Heathcliff, rumpled and brooding and gorgeous. He also looked intent, and she suspected he wanted to have aconversation. One she already knew she did not want to have.

Sure enough, she was still ten feet away from the door when he jerked his chin up in a nod of greeting and asked in a low voice, “Grace… can we talk?”

24

Noah saw the way Grace’s eyes widened and then flared and he knew she was dreading this conversation almost as much as he was, if not more. The last thing he wanted was some emotional autopsy of what had gone wrong the other night, but he also knew he needed to do the responsible thing and explain why he hadn’t kissed her senseless the way he’d wanted to.

“Please,” he said quietly.

“Jacob…?”

“He’s playing a game with Isaiah. They’re well matched.”

Grace hesitated, and then gave a brief nod, her expression veiled as she glanced away from him. “All right, then.”

Not wanting to waste time, Noah went to the closest private space—a drawing room off the entrance hall that he hadn’t been in since he arrived. As he opened the wood-paneled doors, he saw that the furniture was swathed in dust sheets, the elaborately carved stone fireplace lost in gloom at the far end of the room.

“Sorry… this room doesn’t get much use,” he called over his shoulder to Grace as he went to one of the tall, sashed windows and pulled open the heavy velvet drapes. Dust motes danced in the air, catching the sunlight and making them both cough. “Really doesn’t,” he managed, wiping his mouth. “Sorry.”

“It seems like a lot of the rooms in this house don’t get much use,” Grace remarked quietly.

Noah had the sense they were talking about more than the house, but he didn’t want to think too deeply about it. “Well, I only use a few,” he allowed. “Grace…” He turned to face her, and saw her arms were wrapped around her waist, almost as if she was holding herself together. A few more wisps had come undone from her bun and framed her heart-shaped face. She was so slender and strong, her lithe body swathed in a fleece and jeans, her blonde hair like a golden flame in the gloominess of the room. For a breathtaking moment, all Noah wanted to do was cross the room and kiss her.

But that, he knew, would be a very bad idea.