Kiss and Tell (16 page)

“This small-minded, gossip-mongering, no-privacy, stupid little town is driving me
insane,
” Leila fumed.

“It’s not
that
bad.”

“You’re not the one everyone thinks is pregnant.”

“Oh, that’s just talk. They’re not being malicious, just curious. Interested, if you please,” Frankie said. “They’ll all get over it.”

“When?”

“As soon as the next good topic of conversation comes around. Simon and Amanda, for instance. Simon’s within a few days of jettisoning Amanda. I can tell by the look in his eyes when he’s out with her. There’s lots of white showing. She’s starting to talk about ‘we’ this and ‘our’ that and he’s running scared. As soon as they split, everyone’ll stop talking about you. Guaranteed.”

“Great,” Leila grumbled. “If it’s not one Hunt providing townwide entertainment, it’s another. Oh, Frankie, how did I get myself into this?”

“Into what?” Frankie asked. “You’re nuts about Marsh, he’s nuts about you. Ninety-nine percent of the population is trying to get into a situation like that. You should be happy.”

“But the thought of moving back here…”

“Yeah, imagine being able to hang out with
me
whenever you felt like it.
That
would be the real pits.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Sunrise Key isn’t exactly one of Dante’s levels of hell, Lei. Some people actually
want
to live here. Back when we were kids, you liked living here.”

“I grew out of it,” Leila muttered.

“Are you sure? Or did you just get temporarily sidetracked? Remember how you always used to say that when you had kids someday, you wanted to give ’em a chance to grow up in a small town like this? Do you really want to raise your children in a city?”

Leila was silent.

“There may be no privacy here,” Frankie pointed out, “but there’s also no crime. And no snow. And no pollution. And no traffic jams…. You feel up to taking a ride?” Frankie asked. “I want to show you something.”

Leila looked over at her friend. “What?”

Frankie smiled. “I want to give you a reminder about the good side of living on Sunrise Key.”

Leila heard the sound of buzz saws and hammers from inside Frankie’s pickup truck as they drove down Point Road. Frankie drove slowly, squeezing through the lines of cars and trucks that were parked along both sides of the narrow street all the way to the corner.

“What’s going on?” Leila asked. “What’s happening?”

And then Frankie rounded the curve and pulled up in front of Marsh’s house.

It was amazing.

The last time Leila was there, the house had been a sagging pile of rubble and ashes. But now, the burned-out shell was down, the foundation cleaned out, and a brand new, fresh wood frame was already up.

She could see Ron Hopkins, still on crutches, standing beside a truckful of wood, supervising five strapping teenaged boys—his sons—who were unloading it. Duke Torrelson and Kevin Beauchamp were up on the roof, nailing down the sheathing. Axel Bayard, Noah Kavanaugh, John Knudsen, and about ten men and women Leila didn’t recognize were hammering the studs and beams of the inside partition walls into place. John McGrath, Nancy Sullivan, and Kelly Beauchamp were constructing the stairs up to the second floor. Liam Halliday and several uniformed policemen were framing off the windows and doors. Dozens of other people, many of whom Leila didn’t know, swarmed over the structure.

It was good, old-fashioned barn raising. Well, a
house
raising in this case. The entire town was pitching in, doing the work, rebuilding Marsh’s house.

“This was actually Marsh’s idea.” Frankie pulled her truck into a space recently vacated by a departing car. “The electrician and the plumber are going to do the work for a discount, and everyone else is working for free—even the architect, courtesy of Pres Seaholm. Marsh is giving everyone in town a chance to pay off all their debts to him. But to tell you the truth, I think everyone’d be here regardless of that. In fact, I see a lot of people who don’t owe Marsh Devlin one cent. But on Sunrise Key, it’s not a matter of who owes what to whom. It’s a matter of being a good neighbor and a good friend. Marsh is both of those things to everyone in town.”

Marsh had always talked about investing in people. Leila realized she was looking directly at the payoff.

She cleared her throat to get rid of the lump that had suddenly appeared. “Did he know this was happening today?”

Frankie shook her head. “No. We didn’t know ourselves—not until the supplies came in this morning. The weather forecast calls for no rain for the next five days, so we figured we’d get started.” She looked back at the house. “If we keep up this pace, the exterior will be completed well before that, even though most of the work will be done in the evening, after the regular workday. The inside’ll take a little longer, because of the plumbing and wiring, but…” She shrugged. “Marsh’s jeep is in the driveway, so I guess he’s here somewhere. He’s probably really happy.”

Leila shielded her eyes with one hand, searching for Marsh’s familiar brown hair.

“I’m going to get back to work,” Frankie continued. “If you want to pitch in, talk to Pres. He’s assigning jobs.”

Leila watched as Frankie joined the team building the inside stairs.

Back when we were kids, you liked living here,
Frankie had reminded her. And suddenly, in a rush, it all came back, the feelings of intense happiness she’d had as a child, the sunshine-swept days and warm tropical nights, surrounded by friends and laughter.

All of these people were going to spend the better part of their time off over the next few weeks right here, helping a beloved neighbor. It was old-fashioned and sweet, and it made Leila’s chest ache. She could see friendship on every smiling face—and even on the frowning ones. Axel Bayard was arguing with his old friend John Knudsen, but their affection for each other was evident even in their raised voices.

She’d never seen anything remotely like this in her uptown Manhattan neighborhood.

And she probably never would.

It was true that in New York she wouldn’t have dozens of nosy neighbors betting on the due date of her nonexistent baby.

But she also wouldn’t have Marsh.

Marsh.

He was here somewhere.

Leila went to look for him.

Marsh stood alone on the beach, looking out over the ocean. Up above him, on the bluff, the newly constructed frame of his house loomed. He could hear the sound of hammers and saws, the sound of voices and laughter.

The water sparkled in the early afternoon sunshine. Seabirds soared and dipped, their raucous cries muted by the sound of the gentle surf.

Ever since he first came to Sunrise Key, Marsh had loved the view from this part of the island. He used to rent one of the dilapidated touring bikes from Millie’s Market for his entire vacation, and ride out every day with a book to read and his lunch in a paper sack. He’d sit for hours, not too far from this very spot, looking out at the ocean, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, breathing in the fresh, salty air—and healing.

He’d come to accept the fact that his mother was gone. He’d loved her, but she was gone. There was nothing he could do—except learn to live without her.

It had taken some time. Time, and the brilliant turquoise-blue vastness of the Gulf, the sparkling white at the edge of the water, the healing power of the sun, the soothing sounds of the wind and waves and gulls.

On Sunrise Key, Marsh had left the last of his childhood behind him. He’d let go of the bitter anger he’d felt toward his mother for deserting him the way she had. He’d made the decision to move forward, to embrace his future rather than linger in the past, defeated by grief and disappointment. He’d found peace and security, and eventually a real sense of belonging.

True, his life wasn’t perfect by any means. Financially, he was earning far less than he’d been accustomed to having as a child and a teenager. And the fire had been a rather nasty blow. But he had more friends than he could count on all of his fingers and all of his toes.

Marsh looked up at the house, at the walls and roof that were going up. They were tangible proof of his strong and lasting friendships with the people of Sunrise Key.

He looked back at the ocean, at the incredible, splendid view. Yes, this was right where he’d always wanted to be.

Except Leila wasn’t with him. And deep down inside, he knew that all the water, sand, sun, wind, and time that Sunrise Key had to offer wouldn’t help him learn to live without
her.
It wouldn’t help him one bit this time.

And whether or not Leila loved him, he knew he really had only one choice.

With one last look back at the house, Marsh flipped open the cellular phone that Preston Seaholm had lent him.

It was time to make a few phone calls to some old med school friends. It was time to call in a few favors, make a few new connections, and find himself a new job.

In New York City.

Preferably within walking distance of Leila’s uptown apartment.

Because if Leila was going to get married, she wasn’t going to marry Elliot. She was going to marry
him.

ELEVEN

L
EILA COULDN’T FIND
Marsh.

She searched the construction site but didn’t see him until he stood in the center of the newly constructed plywood floor of his house and called for his friends and neighbors’ attention.

“Thank you,” he said loudly as the group quieted down to listen to him. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming over here today. Your kindness is deeply appreciated, and I will always remember it. However…”

He sighed, looking around at all of the different faces in the crowd. His eyes fell on Leila, and he started in surprise. But he held her gaze, his eyes almost challenging as he said, “However, I’m going to be leaving Sunrise Key—”

“No!” The word was out of Leila’s mouth before she even realized it. All eyes turned to look at her.

“Yes,” Marsh chided her gently. “I’m moving to New York. It really wasn’t that difficult a decision.”

The crowd murmured its displeasure at the news, and Leila took the opportunity to cross the room toward Marsh.

“You can’t be serious about this.”

“I’m dead serious,” he replied. “If you’re going back, I’m following. I haven’t quite figured out what to do about Elliot, but I’m working on it.”

His eyes swept her face, then lower before returning to her eyes. Leila knew that if they hadn’t been standing in front of an audience, he would have taken her into his arms and kissed her.

“There’s no way I’m going to let you get away from me,” he said as if he were discussing the weather. “Not after last night.”

The crowd was silent again, hanging on his every utterance—despite the fact that Marsh’s voice was lowered and his words were meant to be private. He realized what he’d just said and winced. “Sorry,” he murmured to Leila.

She closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. They all probably know anyway,” she whispered.

“Regardless, I
am
going to New York.”

“We need to talk about this.” She glanced around at all the curious faces. “Privately.”

Marsh raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “I’d like to thank you all again, but please, there’s no need to do any more work here. You may as well go home.”

Leila raised her voice, too. “Nobody move. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, and a lot of work to do over the next few days. Dr. Devlin is having a temporary problem with reality. He’s not going to New York or anywhere else—”

“I most certainly am,” Marsh interrupted indignantly. “I love you, and—”

“Please,” Leila said desperately to the crowd. “Just go back to work.”

“What, and miss this?” Millie Waters called out. “This is better than
As the World Turns.
”

The crowd laughed, and nobody left. Several people sat down, making themselves more comfortable, and others moved to where they could see better. Leila groaned.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Marsh told her.

“Atta boy, Doc,” John Knudsen called out. “You love her, you follow her to Siberia if you have to.”

Leila put her hands on her hips and glowered at John Knudsen. “Oh, that’s really intelligent. He’s just supposed to follow me, huh? No job, no money—you know, it takes a lot of money to live in New York City.”

“She’s got a point,” Axel Bayard said to John.

“But I have got a lead on a job,” Marsh announced. “A friend of a med school friend joined his father’s private practice—GP—after his residency. Apparently, the old man had a heart attack about four months ago. He’s got to take it easy, retire, and that’s left the son working eighteen-, twenty-hour days to keep up with the patient load.”

Marsh turned toward Leila. “I made a reservation on the same flight you’re taking on Sunday,” he continued. “I’m going to meet with the son—his name’s Grant Osgood, he was two years ahead of me at Harvard—and discuss the possibility of joining him as a partner in the practice. Glen—my friend—thinks Osgood and I will hit it off. If he’s right, I’ll be living up north by the end of February. I have to arrange for a replacement here on the key and—”

“You can’t leave.” Leila finally found her voice. “You love it here.”

“Yes, I do love it here. But I
can
leave. And I will. I want to be with you, Leila.”

Several people in the crowd began to whistle and applaud and Leila covered her face with her hands. “I can’t deal with this.”

Marsh took Leila’s hand, dragging her toward one of the framed-off doors. He pulled her out of the shell of the house and didn’t stop walking until they were on the beach. Alone.

“I’m sorry.” He looked tired and unhappy and Leila’s heart lurched. “What are you doing out here, anyway? You were supposed to take it easy today.”

“I was over at your office looking for you. I ran into Frankie and she brought me over here.”

“You were looking for me?” He looked as if he didn’t quite believe her.

“I’m not going to marry Elliot. I only told Simon that because he was making me crazy.” She was babbling now but unable to stop. “I mean, he had us all neatly paired off and dropped into a slot marked Happily Ever After. And that got me very annoyed—that combined with knowing that we…that what we did last night—which, by the way, was amazingly wonderful. So please don’t be mad or hurt or anything because I didn’t mean what I said. To Simon,” she added. “About Elliot.”

“Ah.” He glanced out at the sparkling ocean, and when he looked back at her, there was a glint of humor in his eyes. “I’m glad you cleared that up. Except, would you mind repeating the part about Elliot?”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

Marsh nodded. “That’s what I thought you said. And the part about last night? Something about splendid or wonderful?”

“Amazingly wonderful.”

“That was it.” Marsh smiled, and gently touched her cheek. “I love Sunrise Key, Leila, but there’s nothing for me here if you’re a thousand miles away.”

“And if I’m not?”

She could see in the warmth of his brown eyes that he was daring to hope. “If I asked you, would you stay?”

Leila kissed him.

This was what it was like to be in love, this feeling of utter desperation and desire, this sensation that a mere kiss was a trip to paradise. And what a kiss it was. Marsh’s mouth was soft and warm and tasted so sweet. The world seemed to tilt on its side, off balance and askew. He met her tongue with his own in a sensual dance that released a barrage of intense memories of the night before, when he’d held her, touched her, stroked her, kissed her just like this—and made her irrevocably his own. And Leila knew the answer to his question.

“Yes.” She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “I love you, and I’d like to stay.”

Marsh closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Leila realized he’d been blinking back a sudden rush of tears. “You love me.” He stopped to clear his throat. “Enough to marry me? Enough to move back here, back home?”

“Yes.” Leila looked at the house going up on the bluff above the water. “But it’ll be a new home for me. It’ll be yours and mine.”

Marsh pulled her into his arms and kissed her again.

“Did she say yes?” someone called down from the construction site.

Marsh didn’t lift his head from Leila’s sweet lips. But he raised one hand and gave a thumbs-up affirmation.

“She said yes!” the voice cried.

From atop the hill came sounds of cheering and laughter.

“We are going to have one heck of an enormous wedding,” Leila heard Millie Waters shout.

And they did.