17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

S he didn't meet him for a run Saturday morning.

He even went so far as to knock on her bedroom door, but she didn't answer.

Her shoes were still in the foyer though. So she wasn't pulling her earlier shit where she left for a run earlier. Unless she was and just set her alarm for three in the morning.

Something happened at the funfair yesterday that triggered Justine in a way Bennett couldn't figure out.

She froze when Barnacle choked and then when Bennett called "bullshit" on her response and probed further, she shut down completely and vanished.

He wanted to chase after her, but he had his kids there and still needed to complete his volunteer shift. He heard through the grapevine that she drove Keturah Katz home. So that gave him some level of comfort that she wasn't entirely alone. Keturah was a wily old bird who could coax a confession out of anybody.

He even thought about going to Keturah's house and asking what Justine said, but he thought better of it. People told Keturah things, but she rarely told anybody anything. She had her ear to the ground about all the goings-on on the island, but she wasn't one to gossip. She was known as The Island Ear. She knew everything and everyone, was a phenomenal listener, and could also be trusted to keep a secret and take it to her grave. And if Keturah didn't know something, chances are Hugh Tapper—the local potter—did. Between those two, nothing happened on the island without them knowing. Unlike Jolene Dandy, who was known as The Island Mouth. The woman barely knew how to take a breath, let alone listen, unless it was to hear more gossip. And often that gossip held more hyperbole than fact.

Saturday morning, Bennett found himself alone at the kitchen counter after his run, sipping coffee and scowling. What the hell was going on with Justine?

She was so hot and cold.

When she was hot, holy hell was she hot. She was someone he could see himself falling for—if he wasn't already—and starting a life with. Which was an outrageous idea, considering it'd been a week since her arrival. But when she was cold, it was like an atmospheric river followed her around, raining down despair and grief in golf-ball-sized hail pellets. And sometimes, it felt like he could end up scorched and frostbitten within the same hour based on how quickly she shifted.

He sipped his coffee, relishing the quiet, but also worried about it. It was officially the first day of summer vacation, and Emme and Aya vowed last night that they were going to sleep in.

He tuned into the sounds of the house, willing Justine to make a noise in her room—which was his room. But he heard nothing. Nothing besides Aya's soft snoring, since she liked to sleep with her door slightly open.

His phone pinged with a work email, and he opened it.

Hello.

We are very interested in renting your restaurant for our wedding and reception. We would also like cabin five as a place to get ready for the wedding and for the wedding night. We understand that this may come as an odd request as you appear to not offer weddings as per your website, but we are hoping you may make an exception. This place, and cabin five, are where we first spent the weekend together. This is where we realized we wanted to spend our lives together. It is very special to us and we would love for you to help make our special day even more special by granting this request.

We are also expecting our first child in four months, so we hope to be able to get married before that happens. Ideally, we would like to get married in the next three weeks if possible. Money isn't really a problem. So please come up with a number you deem appropriate for the rental of the restaurant, meals for fifty, cabin rental for five nights, an open bar, and any other incidentals. We will be on the island today actually, and hope to meet with you to discuss details in person. We are catching the 10 a.m. ferry.

Thank you very much for your time and consideration and we look forward to working with you and celebrating the happiest day of our lives in your beautiful venue.

Sincerely,

Tad and Ashli

Just like Jerry Maguire had her at "Hello," these people had Bennett at "Money isn't really a problem." He should have been embarrassed about how big the dollar signs probably were in his eyes, but he also didn't care.

Yeah, it would be a feat to pull off, and they'd have to close down the pub and restaurant to the public. But if they factored in their loss of revenue and charged this wedding accordingly, they could make a buttload of money. Staff would totally stay on and work the wedding, especially if they added on an eighteen percent gratuity right away. The big concern was whether they could get cabin five ready in time.

He forwarded the email to all of his brothers because just like he asked them not to make rash decisions without running it past him first, he needed to offer them the same courtesy. However, his situation was a little different. They all spent money without telling him, this was an opportunity to make money. A lot of money. And they needed a lot of money.

A ripple of excitement rushed through him as he finished his coffee and rinsed out the mug. A quick glance at his watch said "Tad and Ashli" would be there in an hour.

They'd never hosted a wedding before, but that didn't mean they couldn't do it. It would take a lot of work, particularly on his and Jagger's part, but he believed they could pull it off. Wyatt would probably love to come up with a signature menu for the event, and Dom was always looking for an excuse to create new cocktails. And this couple already struck Bennett as the type of people who totally wanted a few signature cocktails with cutesy names, even if she was pregnant. Dom could just create her a virgin option.

Text messages started to vibrate his phone where it sat on the counter. Every message was from one of his brothers. All of them were intrigued about the idea and not dismissing it.

Jagger: We should meet to discuss this further. Do they want to get married on the beach or the patio?

Wyatt: I'm already thinking up ideas for the menu. Tuscan or Moroccan come to mind first.

Dom: How would tips for the staff work with an open bar? Automatic gratuity on the whole bill?

Clint: Will the cabin be ready in time? Is it worth it for us to close down the restaurant to the public for an entire Saturday? That's a buttload of money.

All of these were valid questions and concerns. However, the excitement percolating through the phone was something he made sure to absorb as well. This was their collective dream. It was one of the reasons why they wanted Bonn Remmen's land so badly. It was adjacent to theirs and perfectly set up for not only more cabins, but a beautiful wedding venue as well. He could already picture the altar adorned with flowers, the covered outdoor pavilion for the reception, and a field of hops behind, while the backdrop of the Puget Sound elevated the wedding pictures from great to spectacular.

Noise upstairs drew his attention. It didn't sound like children's noises though.

His heart rate spiked as he waited for Justine to come down the stairs. Then he realized he was holding his breath.

He exhaled through the burn in his lungs and blinked dry eyes.

This woman put a spell on him, but he was unsure if he wanted the counterspell or not. Her temperature fluctuations exhausted him.

She entered the kitchen and the moment their eyes met, she dropped her gaze.

Shit.

"The trailer isn't here," she said, still not looking at him.

"I know. Fuck, I'm sorry." He threaded his fingers through his hair and sighed. "I forgot to tell you that it wasn't going to come until later today. They needed to repair a few things, and wanted to dump the sani-tank and stuff before bringing it over. But it should be here around lunchtime."

She busied herself with making some muesli. Still not looking at him. "That's okay."

"There's coffee in the French press. It's fresh."

"Thank you."

He spun around to face her, leaning back against the L-shaped counter. "Justine, can we please talk?"

She poured oat milk into her coffee. "I—"

"You're avoiding me again and I want to know why. You didn't run this morning. Or you did, you just left insanely early and got back before even I woke up. And yesterday at the funfair, you … you just left ."

Her throat moved on a hard swallow as she stirred a spoon in the hand-thrown mug. "I choked, Bennett."

"No. Barnacle choked." He cringed every time he had to say that kid's name. His parents were idiots of the highest order naming him that. And there were some really fucking strange names on this island. But Barnacle took the cake. Or at least one of the cakes. He was a bit of a bully in Talia's class too, taking his parent's messy divorce out on his classmates. That didn't mean he deserved to die via popcorn, or anyway, for that matter. But maybe his near-death experience helped the seven-year-old gain some perspective on kindness and what mattered most in life.

She finally met his gaze. "No. I choked when he was choking. I forgot what to do. I couldn't move. I froze. Like an idiot."

Shame filled her eyes and her hand trembled as she picked up her mug and blew on the steam.

"I choked. I am … I was a surgeon, and I choked."

Slowly, he nodded in understanding.

"I can't trust my instincts. I froze. I went catatonic when faced with the simplest first aid practice. So I know I can't return to medicine. Now what?"

She was lost.

Riddled with self-doubt, guilt, grief, and longing. Longing for direction and answers.

He still didn't know what happened in the OR with her patient that died, but something told him Keturah Katz knew. Even though shame was etched deep into Justine's face, he could see a bit of lightness there that wasn't there before. Something had been lifted between last night and today. Maybe she just needed to get it out and tell her story in order for the healing to begin.

It stung that she didn't see him as someone she could talk to like that. That she found Keturah more personable to share her secrets with, but then again, Keturah had a way about her. She could pry information out of trained government spies if she had to.

His head bobbed in another nod.

What could he say?

Talk to me. Tell me your woes. Let me help you fix them.

The look in her eyes told him that she'd shut him down and move out—and not just to the trailer—if he pushed too hard.

"What are your plans for the day?" he asked, giving her a break and changing the subject. Relief filled her gaze.

"Well, pack and unpack. And I've been asked to join the kids at the beach just below the restaurant. Aya begged me."

A small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. His daughter could be very persuasive.

"Do you want to go to the beach?"

She nodded. "I do, actually."

Sounds of small children waking and using the bathroom echoed through the house. Then there was arguing. Aya yelled at Emme. Emme growled and called her sister a brat. Then a door slammed.

Bennett rolled his eyes. "And it begins."

Her smile was forced and fake. "Sisters. It's what they do. I have two of them."

With a nod that held more confusion than anything else, he shot her an equally fake smile before heading off upstairs to go keep his daughters from killing each other. When he came back to the kitchen to start the girls' breakfast, Justine was gone.

And so were her shoes.

She knew what she was doing was rude.

Harsh even.

Bennett showed her nothing but patience, understanding, and unprecedented kindness.

And she met that with shutting down, freezing, and vanishing while he was upstairs with his amazing children.

But since she didn't get in a run—because no, she wasn't going to wake up at three in the morning to avoid him—she at least needed to walk.

However, that walk didn't have the cleansing properties she hoped for. It was just fuel for her thoughts to spiral. For the guilt and grief and self-deprecation to find new crevices in her brain to claim a foothold.

When she returned to the house, still wrapped up in self-doubt, and lost with where her future might take her beyond this expensive vacation on the island, small human voices met her. Emme and Aya were eating breakfast and bickering over the table, while Bennett repeatedly asked them to use nicer tones with each other.

It was just going to be one of those days.

At least one of Bennett's children woke up on the wrong side of the bed and was looking to fight. And by the sound of it, even though all signs pointed to it being Aya—who loved sleep and hated waking up—it was actually Emerson who was on the warpath.

"Justine, is that you?" called out Aya.

Justine ditched her shoes in the foyer and met the girls in the kitchen. "Good morning." Her smile wasn't nearly as fake as this morning's because she was genuinely happy to see these sweet children.

A storm cloud hung dark and heavy over Emme.

"You're coming to the beach with us today, right?" Aya asked, picking up her bowl of cereal and draining the milk. "You promised."

"I did. And I will," Justine confirmed.

Emme shot a glance Justine's way, but it felt more like a glare.

Was Emme mad at Justine?

"I already have my bathing suit on and my sunscreen," Aya said proudly. "Just need to find my hat, my flip-flops and grab the sand toys." She got up to put her dishes away. "Dad, can I pack us some snacks from the snack cupboard?"

Bennett was in the kitchen puttering. "Yep. Just make sure to pack enough for all your cousins."

"I know," Aya said with a sigh, grabbing a fabric bag from the pantry and opening up a cupboard filled with fruit puree pouches, granola bars, and veggie straws. She started throwing six of everything into the bag.

Emme finished her breakfast—peanut butter toast—without saying a word, then took off upstairs. Justine needed to get changed for the beach anyway, so she followed.

"Everything okay?" she asked as she hit the top of the stairs a few seconds after Emme's storm cloud.

"You promised to do the cakewalk with me and you disappeared." Her little mouth plummeted to a deep pout, then a frown.

Crap.

Justine had promised to do the cakewalk with Emme. She'd asked Justine when they decorated the cupcakes and cakes together Thursday night. Then Justine completely forgot because of the whole freezing when Barnacle was choking thing.

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and scrunched up her face. "I did. Didn't I? Crap. I'm so sorry, Emerson."

Emme's eyes welled up with tears. "I just … I feel like you and Aya have this great relationship because she's so … well, I think it's annoying, but you probably think it's cute. Because she's cheeky and says whatever is on her mind before she even thinks about it. But then I'm over here being the big sister, getting her up in the morning and trying to be perfect for my dad … perfect for my uncles taking care of all the cousins. And I asked for one thing, and you forgot."

Double crap.

Fresh guilt piled on top of Justine's heart. But that wasn't this little girl's fault. She had never asked Justine for a single thing until she asked for a date to the cakewalk. And Justine stood her up.

She stepped forward and pulled the little girl into her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. It smelled delicious. Like lilac, lavender and sunshine. "I am so sorry, sweetheart. So very sorry. I made a promise, and I broke it. You have every right to be mad at me. And I can feel how much you must hurt right now. You're expected to be perfect, and it's an impossible standard to live up to."

Emme trembled a little in her arms.

"You're expected not to make any mistakes because ‘you know better.' Because you need to ‘set the example for the younger ones.' But you're still a kid too. It's a lot of pressure."

Emme nodded against Justine's chest.

"Have you talked to your dad about this?"

She shook her head. "He's so busy. I don't want to bother him."

"You can talk to me about anything. Know that. Always. And I will make it up to you. We can do something else together, okay? Anything you want."

Emme lifted her head. "Could we go somewhere together tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

As much as these dads were slaying it in the parenting department and their village was so full and pure and warm and wonderful, it was easy to see how these children craved a mother. How they craved attention and just another parent to be there for them. Talia had that now with Brooke, but Emme, being the oldest of the cousins, probably remembered her mother the most and felt that loss stronger than the younger ones.

"Let me run it past your dad, but I'd love for us to go do something together."

Was this overstepping?

She'd only known these kids a week and yet they clung to her like limpets on a rock. And she actually didn't mind. All the children were wonderful and sweet. They kept her thoughts and all the nattering in her brain to a dull roar, and distracted her from a guilt that otherwise could swallow her whole.

"Aya's going to be mad," Emme said, stepping out of Justine's embrace. "She's going to want some one-on-one time with you too."

"Well, I still have six more weeks left here on the island. I'm sure we can plan something to keep her from losing her cool."

Emme giggled. "I'm going to get my bathing suit and sunscreen on."

"Me too." She stepped toward her bedroom door, but the little girl rushed her one more time, wrapping her arms around Justine and squeezing her tight enough Justine could only take shallow breaths.

They stayed like that for less than a minute, then Emme retreated to her bedroom and Justine retreated to hers.

Even though Justine was the middle child of three, she knew the weight of responsibility. She knew what it was like to have unrealistic expectations set upon her. She knew Bennett and his brothers weren't doing this to Emme on purpose, but he needed to know how his daughter felt. How he was parentifying her, forcing her to grow up quicker than she needed to. Then she should.

Was it her place to say something though?

How would he feel if she advocated for his child? If he found out that Emme confided in Justine and not him?

She slipped on her black, one-piece bathing suit and some loose-fitting, powder-blue, denim shorts, along with a white, oversized, long-sleeve button-up. Then the sunscreen was applied like putty on drywall because "Brazeaus don't get tan lines. Pale skin is safer. Tan lines are for the working class." Yeah, her mother's words came back to her even in her thirties. Even when she was free to get tan lines and do as she wanted.

It was hard to cut some of those apron strings. It was like they were made of bridge cables or something. Indestructible and rigid.

She plopped her big floppy hat on her head, slid into her flip-flops, and tossed her beach towel into her bag before opening the bedroom door. Emme emerged from her bedroom a second later, a big smile on her zinc-covered face.

The girls had such naturally tanned skin already, but burns still occurred. So she was happy to see they took suncare seriously.

She was also really happy to see Emme smiling.

They went down the stairs together to meet Aya, who stood by the door with an impatient look on her face, a big mesh bag of sand toys slung over her tiny shoulders. "Took you guys long enough."

Emme rolled her eyes. Justine stowed her smile by biting the inside of her lip.

Ruckus outside pulled their attention.

"Boys are here," Emme said, just as there was a knock at the door.

Aya swung it open to find Silas, Griffin, Jake, and Talia all slathered in sunscreen and zinc, wearing beach hats and in bathing suits. Some had towels and beach toys, while Jake, Wyatt's eldest son, had a bucket full of water bottles and a bag of pretzel chips.

"Let's do this," Silas said, scrunching up his face.

Justine chuckled and glanced back at Bennett who stood on the fringe of the living room and foyer, watching them with keen interest. "You're okay with me going to the beach with the kids?"

He nodded, his blue eyes laser-focused on her.

Crap. Did he hear her and Emme upstairs earlier? Was he mad?

"You guys head to the beach. I'll be right behind you," Justine said. "I need to grab a water bottle."

The kids all took off toward the gate and she stepped toward Bennett, waiting until the children were out of earshot before she spoke. "Listen, I didn't mean to overstep with Emme, I just—"

But his mouth found hers before she could say another word.

The kiss was powerful. It was deep, yet sweet, and the way his fingers dug gentle, yet possessively into her hip had her melting into his arms in seconds.

He released her, and she stumbled back slightly, her fingers finding her buzzing lips. "Um …"

"I heard you with Emme. Thank you. And yes, if you're okay doing something one-on-one with her, then I'm okay with it." Sadness clouded his blue gaze. "I'm gutted that she feels like she can't come to me with this. And that I've put so much pressure on her. Pressure I didn't even know I was putting on her. I just …" His throat bobbed. "Thank you."

She could feel his pain and before she thought better of it, before those voices in her head told her not to, she stepped forward again and wrapped him in a hug. His arms immediately made their way around her and he clung on tight.

"I don't know what's going on with you," he murmured against her shoulder. "Or why you don't think you can talk to me? Why Emerson doesn't think she can talk to me? But you can. You both can. Please don't shut me out. What we have is … it's real. At least it feels real to me."

She held onto him for another moment so she could rally her thoughts. When they pulled apart, tears brimmed both their eyes.

"I'm just working through a lot of stuff right now," she croaked. "I'm sorry I'm so hot and cold. This is a vacation of …"

"Finding yourself. I get it."

She nodded. "But … this feels real to me too."

His smile warmed her, and he reached for her hand. "If you ever want to talk."

She forced out a small smile of her own and nodded. "Thank you." Glancing at the door, she took a step away from him. "I better get down there. I made a promise and this is one I don't intend on breaking."

Then she left him, standing there with pain in his eyes and a smile on his face.

And the only thing she wanted to do at that moment was kiss him more and take that pain away … and make that smile real.

She wanted both their smiles to be real.

Forever.

She just needed to figure out how to vanquish her own demons so they could get there.

But how?