Chapter 24

Dec

If I thought the first weekend of the Boozer Cruiser was bad, the second one had me sticking to the shadows and growling more than usual. Tourists flooded the parking lot of the boat club, towels and sunglasses and sunscreen spilling out of their bags, incessant chatter destroying the sound of the midday lapping of the water against the dock. I tugged on my hat, bringing the bill down even lower before I skulked into the office and headed for the back room where tourists weren't allowed. Shouts rang out inside, youngsters ready for a bawdy day at sea while they used the restroom before boarding. Irene shot me a harried glare that matched my own.

I was only here because Kenna had threatened me with dumping yet another potted plant on my porch if I didn't show. She'd already taken up half my square footage with Maeve's plants in an attempt to spread the plant riches. Shit, even Irene had a familiar succulent on her desk which she was currently using as an ashtray.

"Oh good, you're here!" Kenna came around the tiny desk she'd shoved against the wall when she realized that sharing a workspace with Irene would be problematic long term. She looked gorgeous, her big blue eyes highlighted by makeup and her lips carrying a glossy sheen. A predatory grin took over my face when I noticed she'd left her hair curly for today's press interview. Every time I saw that auburn hair in a riot of curls, I wanted to slide my fingers into it and get her naked. Kenna wrapped her arms around my waist for a hug, which eased the discomfort of the sleepy boat club being taken over by loud tourists.

"I said I'd be here."

She snorted against my chest and pulled back to look up at me. "Yeah, but I know how you feel about crowds, so I wasn't sure. Thank you."

Fuck. A simple thank-you in that soft voice and I'd agree to do just about anything. Including wreck the haven I'd made here in Sunshine Key.

Leaning down, I kissed her, enjoying the feel of her against me, the way she melted in my arms. She was so damn capable, opposite of how she'd seemed when she arrived here in Florida, and yet she still softened for me.

I'd thought long and hard about what I was doing with her these last few weeks. What all this could eventually lead to if I just opened up to her. As much as it pained me to admit, Harley was right. I needed to tell her everything and trust her to see me for who I was now. Going down this path of lies and omissions would lead us to the same disastrous end that Mona was now living with. It had been too late for her to make things right with her sister. I wouldn't make the same mistake.

But now was not the time. I pulled back, not wanting to ruin her makeup when I knew she'd taken great care to put together this interview with the Key West newspaper. "Let's go wow the crowd, huh?"

Her smile fueled me through the next hour of getting the tourists on the boat and off to sea. All the other boats had been rented as well, everyone wanting to participate in this year's boat parade that signaled the start of the tourist season. Normally my boat would be out there too with Maeve sitting beside me, but this year had brought significant changes.

The newspaper's photographer was a quiet guy who maneuvered through the crowd effortlessly, getting shot after shot. It was the reporter, a guy named Lars Francis, who worried me. He had a thousand questions to ask and not one thought that maybe Maeve wouldn't want a microscope up her ass postmortem. Kenna and I kindly explained the basic terms of the will and Kenna's idea for the club's reinvention. Lars seemed to love the angle of a thriving boating community persevering even when battered by storms and death.

"You know, I had no intention of staying here in Sunshine Key when my aunt left me the boat club. But then I settled in and fell in love with this place." Kenna gestured to the serene dock and the water that spread out for miles all around us. "Sometimes we find our home in the strangest of places."

"So you're staying, then?" Lars asked.

Kenna glanced up at me, a shy smile on her face. "Yeah, I am staying."

I swallowed hard, relief flooding my chest. I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear her say those words. How many feelings I'd been holding at bay until she was sure. Lars rambled on with his questions while I made a firm decision in my head. I'd be telling Kenna about my past tonight. No more half-truths or outright omissions. She deserved the same level of honesty she'd given me since day one.

It was when Lars started asking about the house Maeve had left Kenna and even more intimate details that I stepped in. I didn't like the way he was looking at her, like he had intentions of getting her phone number for personal reasons.

"That's about all the time we have today." I shot him a magnanimous smile, one I'd used for years with reporters that had gotten a bit too nosy. The smile was rusty but apparently still held weight when Lars gave up that line of questions.

He frowned at me. "You know, you look familiar."

I shrugged even when every muscle in my body engaged in the freeze portion of the fight, flight, or freeze response to danger. "I have one of those faces."

"Huh." He still studied me when the photographer switched to getting still shots of Kenna and me with the dock behind us.

They wrapped up and headed out, saying that they'd be printing the article in tomorrow's paper and would send over an electronic copy for our personal records. We watched their news van leave the parking lot before turning to each other. It was finally quiet enough that I could hear the water rhythmically hitting the dock again. A seagull flew overhead, searching for food the tourists had dropped in their haste to board the boats.

I took her hand in mine. "I'm proud of you, Kenna Ryan."

She tilted her head. "Oh yeah?"

"You came here looking like life had officially broken you and now you're thriving. You've renovated a whole house, made new friends, turned a business into a money-making machine." I grinned. "You're fucking amazing."

"What about bagging the hot town recluse?" She swayed toward me and waggled her eyebrows.

I could already feel the ghost of her lips under mine when Irene's trucker voice broke the moment. "Hey, lovebirds. I need a picture."

I craned my neck to see her with a cell phone in her hand that wasn't an ancient flip phone. "What the hell? Did you buy yourself an actual smartphone?"

Irene flipped me the bird and then waved us where she wanted us. "I gotta put a picture up on our new social media page. The Twittergrams ain't seen nothing yet."

I gaped at Kenna who just laughed and posed, like Irene talking about social media was a normal everyday occurrence. "Where's Irene and what have you done with her?"

The old hag put her hand on her hip. It was weird to see her without a cigarette hanging out of her thin lips. "Are you saying I'm an old dog who can't learn new tricks?"

This was dangerous territory. "Never, Irene. You're a social media goddess."

"Fuck yeah, I am," she muttered, squinting at the screen and jabbing it with her fingernail over and over while we smiled, arms around each other. "Okay, got it. Carry on."

I waited until the slap of her sandals faded before pulling Kenna over to the bench that overlooked the water. She'd had it re-stained at some point, returning it to its former glory.

"Can we talk?" I asked her.

She bit her lip, looking unsure of herself. It was a look I saw a lot those first few weeks. A look I never wanted to see on her face again. I sat, pulling her down next to me.

"I owe you an explanation."

She knew exactly what I meant, which told me she'd been thinking about all my secrets too. "Only if you want to tell me."

I put my arm around her. "I do. Very much. I just don't want it to change how you see me." She opened her mouth to object, but I rushed on. "See, Kenna, I thought I could just keep things surface level with you, but I was an idiot. I didn't want to be, but I'm in love with you."

It didn't hurt to say those words like I thought it would. It felt fucking good. Freeing. As if I was finally being me without having to hide. Kenna's eyes filled with tears and she opened her mouth. I cut her off again.

"Don't say it back yet. I want to tell you everything and then you can make up your mind how you feel about me."

Kenna nodded. "Okay."

Footsteps sounded behind us. I turned my head, hoping it was just someone strolling by, but it was Lars, his gaze locked on me as he rushed over. The photographer was running behind him to keep up, a camera held high in his hands.

"What the hell?" I muttered, getting to my feet.

"I knew I recognized you!" Lars exclaimed, his expression holding something like frenzied glee. "This is incredible. Do you know how many people would love to know where you've been all these years?"

My heart, the one I'd just opened up to Kenna, began to pound. I felt Kenna get to her feet and move next to me, as if offering support. Support I didn't deserve.

Fuck.

Everything was about to unravel. A scenario I'd planned for during those early days of hiding, but not recently. I'd gotten lazy the last few years, settling into a community that would never give up my identity because I'd worked to become part of their family. Until Kenna and her grand plans of turning this quaint boat club into a national destination, overrun by curiosity seekers.

Without much thought other than to flee, I grabbed Kenna's hand, sidestepped Lars, and began to run to my truck. Kenna came with me, her hair a wild mess in the wind trailing her. Lars shouted behind me, but I didn't hear anything he said. Except one word. One name, actually. The name that stopped Kenna in her tracks right there in the middle of the parking lot and made her gape at me like I'd lied to her all summer.

Which…I had.

"Debogglan!"