“Knock, knock,” Zane said, standing at the French doors to Allison’s cottage. “I brought a bottle of wine, but I can’t really take credit for it. Your aunt stocked my fridge.”
Allison turned and smiled, looking fresh-faced and sun kissed, wearing a swishy black skirt and a royal blue tank top. Her feet were again bare and her hair was up in a high ponytail. There wasn’t a single made-up thing about her, and that made her perfect, however much he wished he hadn’t noticed. She’s your best friend’s little sister. Don’t be an idiot. It was his new mantra. He committed himself to repeating it over and over until it became part of his psyche.
“I’m glad you came.” She took the wine from him and carried it straight to the kitchen counter. No kiss on the cheek hello. No hug.
Zane was relieved, even if there was something in his body that was registering as disappointment. “Well, you know, I had so many invitations, I wasn’t sure what to do.” He took a seat at the kitchen island, with a view of the cooktop, where something delicious-smelling was simmering away.
Allison laughed, then handed him the corkscrew. “Here. Make yourself useful.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He got up and opened the bottle, then took the liberty of finding the wineglasses, which was easily done since this kitchen had the exact layout of his own. “To friends.” He offered her a glass and held up his own for the toast.
“Yes. To friends.” She took a sip, hardly looking at him at all.
He wondered if he’d been too standoffish earlier. He only wanted to keep things in a place where nobody got hurt. He didn’t want to lose all of the warmth between them. Just some of it. Keep things friendly, but not too friendly. “Have you seen any of the other guests on the island at all?” he asked.
She shook her head and lifted the lid off a pot. “I haven’t. Angelique stopped by and told me that a few people canceled their reservations because there’s talk of a hurricane.”
“That’s what you were talking about with Scott, isn’t it?” This didn’t sit well with Zane. It would be just his luck that the weather would go bad and ruin his idyllic vacation. Worse than that, they were sitting ducks if a bad storm came through.
“Don’t worry. Both Angelique and Hubert said this happens all the time. The forecasts are often wildly inaccurate, and the models have the storm going any number of directions.” Allison gestured outside with a nod. “Look at that sunset. There’s no way a storm is coming.”
He stole a glance, even though he’d been admiring it minutes earlier. “You’re probably right.”
“You need to relax, Zane. The whole point of being here is to unwind. Dinner is just about ready.”
Zane had thought he was relaxed. Apparently not. “What are we having?”
“A conch ceviche with lime and fresh chilies to start, then baked crab with rice and pigeon peas. All my mom’s family recipes.”
“That’s why it smells so amazing. It makes me think of your mom and being at your house.”
“Of course. She must have made this for you one of the times you stayed with us.” Allison spooned the ceviche into two small dishes and sprinkled fresh herbs on top.
“That seems like forever ago.” Being with Allison while memories of time with her family surfaced had Zane wedged between nostalgia and the pain of that period of his life. It was about so much more than the financial struggle. The real misery had come from watching his parents’ marriage fall apart before his very eyes. Allison was a reminder of both things he cherished and things he wished had never happened, which he knew was part of the reason every sense was heightened around her. “You were just a girl then. How old were you when we met? Thirteen?”
She cast him a disapproving look. “I’m all for memory lane, but can we not talk about me as an awkward teenager?”
“Why? You were the coolest kid I ever met. You had the best taste in music. You were always reading all of these books I’d never heard of. You totally had your own fashion sense. You’d wear those flowery dresses and black Doc Martens boots. Or T-shirts with bands I’d never heard of.”
Allison blushed and tried to hide a smile. “Will you please shut up? It’s embarrassing.”
Zane couldn’t help but love that they had this history and that he could have playfully tease her because of it. She’d always had a tough outer shell, carrying herself with an air of disaffection. She wanted the world to think that she didn’t care what anyone thought of her, but Zane had long suspected that wasn’t quite the case. “It’s the truth. That was the first thing that struck me about you. You always had an amazing sense of self. I’m not sure I ever did.”
“I think you’ve always known exactly who you are. The problem is that you weren’t always happy about it.”
For a moment, the air in the room seemed to stand still. Was that his problem? Or was it that the wounds inflicted by the Lowell family had been so slow to heal? “Well, if that’s the case, it’s only because I’m pretty easy to figure out. Feed me and I’m happy.” He smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. He’d never intended to steer them down such a serious path.
“Then I’m your girl.” She held up the two dishes of ceviche.
Zane swallowed hard, and not because the food was so mouthwatering. He was
