Wind Chime Wedding (A Wind Chime Novel Book 2) (7 page)

“Deal.” She took his hand, leading him down to the front yard.

Sometimes, it was hard to believe this was the same kid who he’d met six months ago. She had come so far from the shy, frightened girl she’d once been.

Reaching down, he pried the softball from the mouth of Taylor’s yellow lab, Riley, who never left her side. Wiping the slobber off the ball on the hem of his T-shirt, he wondered how the transformation had taken place without him really noticing.

Was it possible that he’d spent
too much
time here?

Had he been so focused on looking after Taylor and Annie, that he hadn’t realized some of Will’s other friends might need help?

It was probably too late to do anything at this point, but it couldn’t hurt to ask Becca a few questions when he spent the evening with her on Saturday.

Just to get a better picture of the situation.

Will and Annie would want to know if their friend was making a mistake.

T
here was no reason to be so nervous, Becca thought, checking her reflection in the rear view mirror one last time before stepping out of her car in downtown Annapolis two nights later. She was only about to meet the most powerful man in her state, and it was only her co-workers’ jobs, Taylor’s future, and her entire community at stake.

Pressing a hand to her stomach, she willed her insides to settle. She’d been up past midnight scouring the Internet for articles on the impacts of school closures on rural communities. She’d read stories about towns that had shrunk in population by double-digit percentage points, local businesses that had shut down because families with young children no longer wanted to live there, property values that had dropped to record lows when locals had left in search of better opportunities.

Heron Island was one of the last few hidden gems on the Eastern Shore, but it wouldn’t take long for a developer to swoop in and gobble up all the cheap land. The islanders had already fought off one developer last year. Would they be able to win that battle again if their community was in danger of falling apart?

She took several deep breaths, trying to focus on the delighted squeals of a group of children tossing bits of bread to the seagulls that wheeled and dipped over Spa Creek. She had practiced her pitch to the governor so many times over the past two days, she could recite it from memory now.

Everyone was depending on her.

She wasn’t going to let them down.

Closing the door to her car with a determined click, she paid the parking meter and scanned the bustling City Dock for Colin. She hadn’t expected so many tourists to be out yet. He had said to meet near the bronze statue of Alex Hadley, but maybe they should have picked a less crowded spot.

Her heart did another funny little stutter step when she spotted him.

He was standing about ten yards away, watching her with that cool-as-ice gaze. A blue button down shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. His hands were dipped into the pockets of a pair of dark gray pants, and the thick, wavy black hair that swept back from his rugged face looked like it was still damp from a recent shower.

She should have known it wouldn’t take long to find him. He wasn’t the kind of man you could easily miss in a crowd. At six-foot-four, he stood at least a head taller than everyone around him.

Crossing the street, she threaded her way through the groups of tourists to where he stood. “Hey.” She attempted a breezy smile. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Not long at all.”

A group of women in their late-twenties walked by, gawking as they craned their necks to get a better look.

She didn’t blame them.

“I’m surprised it’s so busy here tonight.” Becca took in the lines outside the seafood restaurants surrounding the harbor. “I didn’t expect to see so many tourists out yet.”

“It’s mostly locals,” Colin said. “The first warm Saturday of the year always draws everyone out of their homes.”

That explained it, Becca thought as a balmy breeze brushed over her bare arms, carrying the faint scent of coffee and Old Bay Seasoning. She’d always loved Annapolis. It was the perfect sized city, not so big that it felt overwhelming, but big enough to soak in a bit of culture.

“How was the drive?” Colin asked.

“Good,” she said, tipping forward slightly as a group of teenagers jostled her from behind.

Colin caught her by the elbow, steadying her.

The moment his work-roughened fingers grazed her bare skin, an unexpected flash of heat shot through her. She drew in a breath and tried to step back, but one of her heels caught between a crack in the bricks.

“I’ve got you,” Colin said, his strong hand holding her in place. He held her gaze for several long beats, then glanced down at the offending heel. A slow smile spread across his lips. “Nice shoes.”

Becca’s insides twisted…for a different reason this time.

Tugging her heel free, she smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, trying to regain her composure. But when she glanced back up, and caught his heated gaze following the path of her hands, every muscle in her body contracted.

His eyes were so intense. So blue.

His gaze lifted back to her face, and she braced herself for another comment about the shoes.

Wearing them had definitely been a mistake.

But he didn’t say anything about her shoes. He just stood there, close enough so she could smell the soap on his skin and something else—something strong and masculine and uniquely
Colin
—and continued to study her.

“Did you do something different to your hair?” he asked.

“What?” she stammered, pushing at the curtain of brown hair that fell to her shoulders.

“It looks different.” He reached up, touching the ends. “Longer.”

Her mouth went dry when his fingers grazed her collarbone. He was right. It was longer, probably because she’d spent an hour flat ironing it before she’d left the house tonight. She couldn’t believe he’d noticed. Men never noticed things like that.

“I like it,” he murmured.

A traitorous curl of attraction took root inside her. It started low in her belly, coiling and spiraling as it spread. She remembered something that Will had told her once, that Colin had been one of the best snipers on the SEAL teams before his career had been cut short. He would have to possess an incredible attention to detail to have earned that kind of reputation. And it probably wasn’t something he could turn on and off at whim.

But she wasn’t sure how she felt about that attention being focused on
her
.

Taking a step back, she gathered her hair into a hasty ponytail at the back of her neck and searched for something—anything—to talk about that would make him stop looking at her like that. “You have an apartment downtown, right?” she managed finally, forcing the words out.

He nodded.

“That must be nice.” She gazed past him at the historic streets that spiraled out from the harbor, focusing on the colorful potted plants that graced many of the brick stoops to avoid meeting his eyes
.
“To be so close to everything.”

“It is.”

“Are you going to hold onto it so you have a place to stay when you come up to Annapolis?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” He continued to watch her for several more moments before finally nodding for her to walk with him toward the strip of restaurants along the north side of the harbor. “I’ll be spending most of my time on the island so I don’t know if it makes sense to keep it.”

As soon as his attention was focused elsewhere, she released her hair and fell into step beside him. “You’re renting the Murphy’s old place, right? The one by the marina?”

“Temporarily.” He steered her around a group of teenagers attempting a series of tricks on their skateboards. “I’m still looking for the right place to buy.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You’re thinking of buying?”

He nodded, pausing at the edge of the curb, waiting for a few cars to pass.

“I didn’t realize you were planning to stay that long.”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you were just moving to the island to help Will get the business started.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought the inn would be more of a stepping stone for you—the first of many projects you’d start for veterans.”

He seemed to ponder that as they started across the street.

“How long
are
you planning to stay?” she asked.

“For good.”

Becca’s brows shot up. “You want to move to the island for good?”

“Yes.” He laughed, pausing again when they reached the opposite curb. “Why is that so shocking?”

“Because…”

“Because…
what
?”

“Because…people like you don’t move to Heron Island.”

“People like me?”

Becca watched the wind blow a lock of black hair into his eyes and she fought the urge to reach up and brush it aside. “We don’t get a lot of people who are”—
young, single, attractive
—“unattached moving to Heron Island.”

“Ryan’s unattached.”

That was true, Becca thought. Ryan Callahan, one of her best friends from childhood, had recently moved back to the island to open an environmental center. But Ryan was an anomaly. And he was
from
the island. That was different. “Ryan grew up on Heron Island. It’s his home.”

“Annie moved there and she was unattached.”

Becca bit her lip. That was true, too. But Annie’s circumstances had been so unique. She’d needed a place to escape to, a place for her daughter to heal. “Annie was trying to get away from something.”

“So what are you saying?” Colin asked. “Unless you’re attached, originally from there, or trying to get away from something, you can’t move to Heron Island?”

“No. It’s just…unusual.”

“But not unheard of?”

“No, I guess not.” She blew out a breath. “I didn’t realize you liked it there so much.”

“I love it there.”

Becca’s heart flooded with a rush of warmth. He loved it there? Enough to spend the rest of his life there?

“Is that why you’re marrying a guy who lives in D.C.?” Colin asked. “Because there aren’t enough single men to choose from on the island?”

“What?” Becca froze, stunned by the bluntness of his question. “No. I… Tom and I have been together forever.”

“So it’s comfort? Familiarity?”

“N-no,” Becca stammered. “Of course not. We love each other.”

“Do you want to move to D.C.?”

Becca stared at him.
Yes
was the obvious answer.
Yes
was the answer she gave to everyone else. But when she opened her mouth, the word caught in her throat and a bubble of panic welled up inside her.

There had to be a part of her, at least a small part, that was looking forward to moving to D.C. She
wanted
to live with Tom. She
wanted
to spend the rest of her life with him. She was in love with him. “It’s going to be an adjustment,” she admitted finally, lifting her chin, “but I think it’ll be good for me.”

“How?”

“I’ve never lived in a city,” she said, falling back on one of the arguments Tom always made when she voiced her own fears. “Everyone should live in a city at least once in their life.”

“Cities are overrated.”

Frustrated, because he was echoing all her own thoughts, she turned and started walking toward the restaurant. She was getting married in three weeks. She was getting married to a man she had met in high school, who she had known almost her entire life. They were going to start a family. They were going to live happily ever after. That was the end of the discussion.