Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) Page 23

  “You do realize you’re the luckiest dude alive,” she said out of the side of her mouth to Aiden.

  “Morgan, don’t ever doubt that for a second,” Aiden said warmly. “I’ll love Lily till the day I die.”

  “You’d better if you know what’s good for you,” she said, curling her lips back in a mock snarl.

  Aiden glanced around and then leaned in close. “I bet Lily will be saying exactly the same thing to Ryan when she’s standing up here waiting for you.”

  Morgan almost dropped her bouquet of pale pink roses. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? She frantically tried to gather her wits. “Uh, you know something I don’t?”

  “Only if somehow you haven’t figured out that the guy’s in love with you.” Aiden winked at her.

  “You’ve suddenly developed ESP or something?” Morgan hissed, totally flustered. Boy, this was so not an appropriate conversation to be having right at this moment. She flicked a nervous glance around the church, praying that no one sitting close by could hear them.

  Aiden rolled his eyes. “Look, I spent a lot of years around tough guys who killed themselves not to look like they were head over heels. Ryan’s been giving off that vibe ever since the fire, if not before.”

  She stared at him, just barely keeping her jaw from dropping to the floor. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, but she forced herself to clamp down on the insane combination of hope and excitement, countering it with cold, hard facts. Aiden had to be reading it all wrong. She could agree that Ryan was totally hot for her and was certainly into their summer fling, but nothing had changed when it came to the big picture.

  After one quick glance, Morgan had studiously avoided looking at Ryan since taking her position at the altar. The last thing she wanted was for people to see her mooning at him in public. He was sitting next to Laura on the groom’s side of the aisle, and when she’d caught his eye, he’d given her a wry smile and a wink. He looked so damn handsome in his dark blue suit that her knees had gone a little wobbly, but she’d simply given him a quick nod and turned her focus to the groom. Yes, she and Ryan had been dating, for lack of a better term, for the last two weeks and everyone on the island knew it. But that was hardly a reason to act like a love-struck idiot in front of all their friends. Ryan would no doubt hate that.

  She forced a smile when Father Michael finally emerged from the sacristy. A moment later, the pianist began playing an old seafarer’s hymn—so sweet and perfect for Lily—and the congregants stood in a Sunday-best wave. She and Aiden and Bram all turned to the red-carpeted center aisle, where Lily and a beaming Tommy Doyle were beginning their walk.

  Morgan had to suppress an instinctive laugh at the look on Aiden and then Bram’s face. Like everyone else on the island, they were used to seeing Lily in T-shirts, jeans, and sneakers, often covered in fish guts.

  Not today. Not by a long shot.

  Lily’s off-the-shoulder gown in duchess satin positively glowed in the late afternoon sunlight that streamed through the church’s stained glass windows. A wreath of wildflowers, picked from her mother’s garden, circled her head to anchor a lovely wisp of a veil. With a four-foot train draped behind her, Lily stepped slowly but gracefully. Her gaze was locked on her groom, her face lit with transcendent joy.

  Morgan blinked back her tears as best she could. Now was not the time for the maid of honor to fall apart. She’d already cried enough over the past twenty-four hours—much of which she’d spent with Lily and her mom and Holly—and there would be opportunity for her to indulge in maudlin sentiments later. Right now, she needed to keep it together and not let her own emotions, too close to the surface these days, draw focus away from the ceremony.

  “Get a grip on the tears, Merrifield,” Bram said sotto voce behind Aiden’s back. But he punctuated the comment with a sly grin. “By the way, have I told you how smokin’ hot you look in that dress?”

  “Shut up, Bram,” she whispered.

  When Father Michael let out a little tsk, frowning at her and Bram, Morgan gave the priest a sheepish smile. It was the second time today that Bram had called her “hot.” Morgan had already received more compliments than she could count about her royal-blue bridesmaid’s dress with its scoop neckline and sheath silhouette. Still, she had very nearly stuck her tongue out at Aiden’s not-so-little brother, and wouldn’t that have made a pretty picture for the wedding album?

  Lily arrived at the altar with her dad. Tommy gave his daughter a fierce hug—he’d been blubbering the entire way up the aisle—and then went to sit with his wife in the first pew. Lily beamed up at her fiancé, then turned to hand Morgan her flowers.

  “What were you and Aiden yacking about?” Lily whispered.

  “I was just telling Aiden I’d kill him if he didn’t make you happy,” Morgan murmured back.

  Lily laughed before giving Morgan a quick kiss. “Thought so. I love you, sweetie. Thank you for everything.”

  Father Michael cleared his throat, and the murmuring from the pews died away. Morgan tried to focus her attention on the beautiful wedding ceremony, but her mind kept drifting back to Ryan. For the past two weeks, she’d kept the depth of her feelings for him locked down. Even after they made love, snuggling together all night, first in the hotel room and then in the cottage Ryan had moved into near Paradise Point, Morgan had never once told him how she felt about him—that she loved him, and that more than anything she wanted to spend her life with him.

  After all, what was the point? Unlike Lily and Aiden, Morgan and Ryan would never end up in this place, standing in front of Father Michael taking their vows and pledging to love each other forever. She was so happy the fairy tale was finally coming true for her best friend, but Morgan’s happily ever after was proving as elusive as ever.

  Ryan loosened his tie as he surfed the appetizer tables in the church hall. He hated suits. Hated ties. Hated dress shirts with stiff collars. He sometimes wore a sport coat when he was on duty, but more often than not he was in a T-shirt, jeans, and a ballistic vest. For his buddy’s wedding though, he’d sucked it up and bought a real suit at one of the outlet malls in Freeport. He couldn’t wait for the reception to be over so he could head home and take the damn thing off.

  And get naked with Morgan, who he hoped would be down with that plan.

  All during the ceremony, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. She looked so totally hot in that slinky blue dress, as Bram had unnecessarily reminded him when they met up in the church foyer. Morgan, however, had only given him one brief glance from the altar. After the ceremony she’d gone off with the rest of the wedding party for photographs, including some on Lily’s boat moored out at O’Hanlon’s Boatyard.

  Morgan had obviously been preoccupied with her maid-of-honor duties, but Ryan couldn’t help getting the sense that she was avoiding him in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He got that she was feeling emotional about Lily and the wedding, which made sense. But was something else going on that he needed to know about?

  Still, he figured they’d have plenty of time later to talk, though shallow bastard that he was, what he really wanted to do was take her straight to bed. They’d had sex every day at least once since the first time, and yet he was always hungry for more. He just couldn’t get enough of Morgan. He didn’t rattle easily, but that fact had started to seriously unsettle him.

  As did the idea of walking away from her.

  Choosing to ignore that for the moment, he sauntered over to the corner of the room where Micah was yukking it up with a few of the locals, all sitting around one of the tables and drinking beer straight from the bottle.

  “Cool suit, man,” Brett Clayton said. “Never seen you in one of those before.”

  “And hopefully never will again,” he replied. “It’s the first wedding I’ve been to in . . . well, forever.”

  He’d been to more than a few funerals so he had plenty of experience wearing a dress uniform and medals. But a civilian suit f
elt weird.

  “Morgan might have something to say about that. You two are just about inseparable these days.” Micah gave him an evil grin. “Just sayin’.”

  Ryan shot him a withering glare.

  “I’m sure he means she might drag you to some other friend’s wedding if you’re still around,” Josh Bryson put in quickly, laughing at Ryan’s prickly reaction.

  Brett’s brows knitted in a frown. “Really? I though Micah was talking about Morgan and Ryan maybe getting—”

  Ryan cut Brett off before he could finish another of his foot-in-mouth interventions. “Brendan, we’re going to need you next week for that work on the doors and windows we talked about. Can you fit us in somehow?”

  Brendan looked surprised. “That’s sooner than I planned. You guys must really be busting your asses over there.”

  The town carpenter had it right. Ryan, Aiden, and Micah, along with some help from Josh, Brett, and Roy, had made incredible progress. The inn’s roof and attic were completely repaired, and the damaged rooms upstairs had been drywalled and taped. They’d roughed in new windows, and a mainland electrician—a temporarily out-of-work construction guy Ryan had unearthed in Biddeford—had finished the second floor and was in the process of replacing the downstairs wiring. Fortunately, the more modern wiring in the annex hadn’t needed replacement.

  “Look, I know you’re still swamped,” Ryan said, “but we’re dead set on reopening later this month. By the Blueberry Festival would be even better.” Then he pulled out his trump card. “You know how much it would mean to Morgan and Sabrina after everything they’ve been through.”

  Brendan laughed. “Yeah, guilt-tripping actually works. Okay, I should be able to talk a couple of my clients into backing up their projects a few days. Everybody wants to see Golden Sunset get back on its feet.”

  “Fuckin’ A, man,” Brett chimed in.

  “Bren, this guy does great construction work,” Micah said, jerking a thumb at Ryan. “I’ve been telling him he could find plenty of repair work around the islands if he wanted to set up a little one-man business here. You’ve been swamped for years after all.”

  Ryan was still puzzled by that. “If you’ve got too much to handle, why don’t you just hire somebody else to work with you?” he said to Brendan.

  “I got into a trade because I never wanted to have a boss. And I sure as hell don’t want to be one,” Brendan said. “I’d be happy if there was somebody else local sharing the load. I hate to see folks have to call some guy in from the city, but I’ve only got two hands.”

  Josh craned around to look at the door to the hall. “Hey, they’re back.”

  Ryan turned to see the wedding party starting to work their way through the crowd. Morgan had seemed to be heading for him when Lily grabbed her elbow and steered her at a ninety-degree angle toward Lily’s grandfather, who was talking to fellow codgers Miss Annie, Roy Mayo, and Sean Flynn. Morgan managed to give Ryan a rueful smile as Lily swung her around.

  Aiden, meanwhile, continued straight toward him. Ryan’s friend looked completely at home in his black tuxedo, but then he’d probably worn them to baseball awards nights or dates with models and actresses.

  “Well, here’s a crew that’s probably up to no good,” Aiden said, grinning at the motley group sitting around the table.

  “Kind of,” Brett said. “Micah’s on a campaign to get Ryan to move back here. We’ve been talking about how the town needs another guy to do handyman stuff.”

  When Aiden shot him a questioning look, Ryan lifted his gaze to the ceiling and shook his head.

  “Guys, I need to grab Ryan for a minute,” Aiden said. “We’ll catch up later.” He pulled on Ryan’s arm, and they headed to a fairly quiet corner behind the platform where the band would soon play.

  “What the hell, dude?” Ryan asked. Why would Aiden drag him off in the middle of his wedding reception?

  “I wanted to run an idea past you.” He rested a friendly hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “When I heard those guys were on your case about sticking around, I figured now was as good a time as any.”

  Ryan gave a sardonic laugh. “Morgan talks to Lily, Lily talks to Holly, Holly bends Micah’s ear, and presto, Micah’s talking about how much repair business there is on the island.” Thing was, he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

  Aiden frowned. “You think Morgan’s behind it?”

  “Well, she told me she could hardly imagine me leaving.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s behind a conspiracy or campaign, asshat. And I’m not going to get into what Morgan and my wife talk about—as if Lily would tell me everything anyway. But it’s pretty clear to me that Morgan’s resigned to the fact that you’ll be leaving soon. If you want to blame anybody for trying to get you to stay, blame Lily and me.”

  Morgan was resigned to his leaving? Ryan wasn’t sure he could take that statement to the bank. Yeah, she was tough and resilient and she’d get over him, but that didn’t mean she’d yet come to grips with him going. Not from what he’d seen.

  Hell, he hadn’t come to grips with it. When he held Morgan in his arms in the darkest hours of the night, he could barely imagine being away from her for months at a time. But when the sun came up in the morning, reality always came with it. Life had brought the two of them together for a while, and life would separate them again as they followed their own paths, just like it always had.

  “It’s not about blame,” Ryan said. “My life’s just not here, man.”

  Aiden frowned. “So you’ve said. But where is it, then? You’re obviously not that happy doing your thing with Double Shield.”

  That wasn’t the point, as far as Ryan was concerned. But he held his fire, not wanting to argue.

  From the look on Aiden’s face, he knew what Ryan would have said anyway.

  “Look, I get it,” Aiden said. “After I left at eighteen, not for one moment did I ever think I’d want to come back to Seashell Bay to live. Hell, I didn’t even want to visit. But now, I’m happy with it. And not just because Lily’s here either. This is a good place to put down roots. It’s . . . peaceful. Good for the soul, and not in some New Age crap kind of way. It’s real.”

  Ryan nodded. He understood that now—a lot more than he did before this summer.

  “Back in high school, you and I couldn’t see that,” Aiden went on. “We were hell-bent on making another kind of life for ourselves on the mainland. But that’s not the only choice, and I think maybe you realize that now.”

  Aiden was saying that guys like them just needed some time—maybe a lot of time—away from this little corner of the world. Maybe work whatever it was out of their systems. In Aiden’s case it had been true, but was it true for Ryan too? Was it—whatever “it” was—out of his system?

  He was far from sure. He had to admit that his feelings for the island were shifting from day to day. The only thing he was certain about was that saying good-bye to Morgan was going to be a hell of a lot harder than he’d ever thought it would be.

  Screw it. The whole conversation made Ryan uncomfortable. It was great that his friends cared about him and wanted him to stick around, but he didn’t need the pressure, even if it was unintentional. “Yo, this is your wedding day,” he said. “You should be thinking about your beautiful bride and your honeymoon, not about me.”

  Aiden shook his head. “Yeah, but you might be talking to Double Shield before Lily and I get back. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about something before we leave.”

  “And I figure you’ll get around to that soon,” Ryan said sarcastically, realizing Aiden wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

  His friend ignored the friendly jab. “Look, Lily and I have been throwing around an idea. We’re a long way from opening the resort, but we’re going to need to start hiring some key staff soon. Like security staff, for one thing.”

  Security staff. Ryan figured he was getting the picture but didn’t say anything.

  “I
didn’t have a clue what a security operation at a resort of our size should look like,” Aiden continued, “so I talked to my friend Colton Booth. He runs a resort up the coast and is helping us get ours off the ground. Colton told me we’d be looking at a chief, plus about three other staff to cover all the shifts.”

  “And you thought of a certain ex-soldier you know?” Ryan asked drily.

  “Exactly.” Aiden said, obviously dead serious.

  “A security guard, dude? Seriously?”

  Aiden snorted. “I’m talking about chief of security, obviously.”

  Wow. Ryan hadn’t seen that one coming. Was Aiden nuts?

  Hotel security had never crossed Ryan’s radar screen. Corporate security, yeah. He’d even been offered a financially attractive gig by one of the CEOs he’d protected, but he’d have had to spend half the year in Kuala Lumpur. But resort security? All he could think about was a guy in a dark suit knocking on the door of rowdy guests to tell them to shut the hell up so people could sleep. Or dealing with somebody losing her purse and thinking someone stole it.

  He’d die from boredom in a week. “We’re talking about Seashell Bay, Aiden. All those security people sounds kind of excessive to me. You might need to keep Daisy Whipple from pilfering some of your potted plants, but I’m not sure what else could go wrong.”

  Aiden didn’t laugh. “I’m serious, man. This resort aims to attract well-off clients. People like that expect top-notch security. The best technology, and especially the best people.”

  “Okay, but what do I know about hotel security?” Ryan parried. “Not much.”

  “Bull,” Aiden shot back. “Those corporate types you’ve been bodyguarding must have demanded the latest in technology and tactics.”

  Ryan couldn’t deny that. “Pretty much.”

  “Right. And there isn’t anything you don’t know about keeping people safe.”

  This time Ryan did sigh. “Yep.”