24. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

T he week went by at lightning speed.

Justine spent every day at the beach with the kids.

Whether it was the beach below the pub or one of the many beautiful beaches on the island, she had sand between her toes every night before she showered.

And she could not have been happier.

Add in the passionate nights with Bennett and her own self-pleasure discoveries, not to mention their wonderful morning runs, and she failed to remember ever being this much at peace.

Thursday was Independence Day. The pub thrummed with people all day. It was chaotic, since Wyatt and the kitchen staff were working overtime to not only fulfill orders for that day, but also prep for the wedding. It was all hands on deck! Even Justine. She stepped in to help dice veggies and just take orders whenever Burke or Wyatt barked something at her.

Her years of being an intern and resident—at the bottom of the hospital pecking order—came in handy. It was also humbling. She'd always tried to be tough but fair with her interns, but maybe she'd been more of a tyrant than she remembered.

Luckily, she managed to peel away from the kitchen in time to meet Bennett and the girls at the beach in time for the fireworks display. Even Wyatt and Dom escaped the pandemonium inside to come sit with their sons and enjoy the bursting flowers in the sky.

All five brothers, with the kids, and Brooke sat on side-by-side blankets snacking on popcorn and juice boxes as the barge in the water just in front of the pub gave the show of the century across the perfectly clear sky. Justine felt honored to be part of it and the lump that formed in her throat as Aya crawled into her lap left her speechless, but deliriously happy.

Friday morning, she woke earlier than her alarm, with a knot of angry butterflies zooming around in her belly. Today was the day.

Tad and Ashli were arriving.

Her ex and his mistress. His baby mama. The woman who was going to give him a natural child of his very own.

She sat up in bed and shuddered. How could she have ever loved that man? He was so … shallow. Sure, a biological child would be great. But she knew she had love in her heart for any child. She already knew that if things between her and Bennett continued, she could easily love Emme and Aya as her very own. She'd already fallen in love with them and felt like she was well on her way to falling in love with their father.

Even though D-Day was on its way, she was determined to make the most of every minute until Ashli and Tad were scheduled to check in.

Of course, Bennett, Cam, and Jagger finished cabin five by Wednesday night. Then Bennett spent Thursday cleaning the place, wiping down every surface to remove the drywall dust and all the other construction debris. He looked sexier than ever when she saw him after he'd been working in the cabin. His hands were filthy, his arms were tanned, and he often had some kind of spackle, paint, or dust in his hair. It was all Justine could do to not jump him in front of the children.

Huffing a deep sigh out of her nose, she swung her legs over the side of the bed in the trailer and padded across the cool vinyl floor to the bathroom. She needed today's run more than she'd needed any run in a long time.

She flicked on the bathroom light, only to gasp when she caught her reflection.

Did she have leprosy?

Leaning forward on the vanity, she inspected her neck and clavicle.

Those were bite marks!

And hickeys!

Bennett marked her like some wild, possessive animal last night.

Heat raced up from between her legs into her chest, neck, and face.

He was a very passionate and generous lover to begin with, but last night he seemed to take it up a few levels. She came so many times she lost count and she couldn't even remember him leaving. She must have passed out, then he snuck away.

And she hadn't even packed any turtlenecks because it was the freaking summer.

Ugh!

She also hated makeup.

Nevertheless, she smiled.

How could she not?

Bennett ravished her like a sailor home on leave and she lapped up every ounce of his possessive passion.

After she washed her face and brushed her teeth, she went on the hunt for just a loose-fitting, plain T-shirt. That would probably be the most practical thing to wear and cover up the majority of the marks.

She found a plain, white T-shirt that would have to do.

But first, a run.

She yanked on her running gear and went about making her protein shake when the confirmation email for Brooke and hers spa day tomorrow popped up on her phone. She gasped again. She and Brooke were going to the spa so that Justine didn't have to be on the property for the dumbest wedding of the century. She was going to have to take off her clothes for a massage, facial, and the thermal spa. People—including Brooke—would see her bite marks.

Groaning, she gave her blender bottle a vigorous shake, then chugged it.

Even if she did apply makeup, it would all come off from the massage oil.

This is a first world, sexually satisfied, woman problem.

Right!

She couldn't pout, mope, or grumble. She needed to walk into that spa with her head held high and wear those marks, like badges of honor. Sex badges.

She lifted her chin higher and plunked her fists on her hips like a superhero.

But then she frowned, sighed, and rolled her eyes, dropping her hands from her hipbones.

Nope.

No matter how long she stood there, she couldn't banish the embarrassment that her neck and decolletage were riddled with bites and hickeys.

Before too long, there was a gentle knock at the trailer door and she swung it open to find a smiling Bennett. It was light enough now that they didn't need headlamps. The crickets and frogs were joined by the birds and all three sung their wake-up song for the islanders.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

She glared at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Did you do this on purpose last night?" she yanked down the collar of her long-sleeve running shirt to show him his handy work.

He snorted. "What answer will get me the least in trouble?"

She squinted at him. "I don't … know."

Chuckling, he grabbed her by the hand and hauled her out onto the gravel. "Come on. Let's burn off all that steam coming out of your ears. Would it help if I said you could do it to me?"

They walked toward the security gate. "No."

He shrugged. "Well, I tried."

"I am going to the spa with Brooke tomorrow. People are going to see the marks."

"So?"

"So, people are going to know that—"

"You have sex? I think they all probably assume you do already. You are a thirty-five-year-old hottie."

He held the man-door open for her and she stepped through, then he locked it again and they started to trot down the hill.

"Just because people assume I'm having sex doesn't mean I want it verified."

He rolled his eyes. "I think you're making a bigger deal of this than it is."

Then it hit her. Like a lightning strike. She stopped in her tracks. "You did do it on purpose."

A guilty look creased his face, and he refused to look at her. He remained focused straight ahead and continued to walk, so she had to walk too, to keep up with him. She playfully smacked his bicep. It was like a rock beneath the back of her hand.

They reached the base of the hill and started to run. "You did, didn't you?"

He huffed, but kept running. "Look," he glanced at her, but then faced forward again, "there's a chance you may run in to your ex. The property isn't that big, and you absolutely shouldn't have to hide away up here for five days."

"So you marked me to show him that I'm yours?" A strange thrill whipped through her. She should be mad, but she wasn't. And she even tried to be upset, but it was impossible. Instead, an astronomically big smile spread across her face.

Bennett belted out a laugh. "Ha! You big faker. You love my marks of possession. You're just pretending to be outraged. I hope that's all you fake."

She shook her head, still smiling, and faced forward. "Well, no more. Okay? I look like a leper."

"Oh, there will be more. I'll just leave them in places only I can see." Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her tight against his chest, forcing them to stop in the middle of the empty road, and he kissed her silly.

She was too happy, too caught up with this man, this island, and this new side of herself that all she could do was wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him back.

Eventually, they came up for air, both of them grinning like idiots.

"I actually do need this run," she said.

"Then let's run." They set off once again at a steady lope, pushing each other to go just a little faster, and a little further, until they decided to sprint the last two hundred meters. When they reached the base of the hill back on the property, their chests heaved and sweat poured down the sides of their faces. Both had removed their long-sleeve shirts mid-way through the run when the sky grew lighter and the day warmer, tying them around their waists. But even then, with her bare arms exposed to the cooler morning air, Justine's body was on fire.

"I wish you could come into the house and we could have a sexy shower," he said as they climbed the hill back up to the security gate.

"You could come shower with me in the trailer."

"That's like an airplane bathroom. I'm not sure we'd both fit."

"It's bigger than that," she protested, thanking him for holding open the man-door for her. "And besides, people have sex in airplane bathrooms all the time. So two people can fit."

He snorted. "You know from experience?"

She could hardly laugh as she was still trying to catch her breath from that final sprint. "Until coming here, I'd never had sex anywhere besides a bed."

They reached her trailer. "Well, we'll definitely have to fix that while you're still on the island," he said. "Create a bucket list and we'll see how many we can tick off."

Her heart hit her toes. While you're still on the island.

He still saw her as temporary.

He still thought she was going to leave when her reservation was up, and head back to Seattle to resume her life as a doctor.

He wasn't taking her desire to move here seriously.

Was he taking anything between them, or what she said, seriously?

"What just happened?" he asked, stepping toward her, knitting his sweaty brows. "It's like a dark cloud just descended upon you."

She had a lot to think about right now. Like her future with and without Bennett.

What did she want? Truly?

This trip and time away was supposed to be where she uncovered what made her happy and to reclaim some passion and excitement. A new direction.

And as much fun as Bennett was, maybe he didn't want to take on a project like her. Someone who had no idea what she wanted out of life anymore. He already had so much on his plate. Would her indecisiveness and lack of direction just add more to his already chaotic life? Was this his way of telling her things were temporary?

He cupped her jaw and stroked his thumb against her cheek. "Hmm? What happened?"

She shook her head and dismissed him. "It's nothing. I just remembered that Tad and Ashli will be arriving soon. They're a dark cloud in and of themselves."

"No arguments there," he said, removing his hand. He leaned down to kiss her. "What are your plans for the day?"

"Wyatt said he could use more help in the kitchen, so I'm going to do that. The girls want another beach day. So if I can swing it, we'll go there too. I honestly just want to keep busy. Keep my mind off what's happening and who is arriving."

"Well, I'll be around. Check-in is at three. So you have at least until then before you need to worry about running into them."

Her smile was flat and brittle. "Thank you. But I should probably shower. That sprint had sweat running into my eyes."

He leaned down and kissed her again. "All right, I'll see you later."

"Yeah … see you." She watched him leave as the gravel crunched beneath his running shoes on the way to his front door.

She'd been waiting for the bubble to burst, for the other shoe to drop, because nothing incredible like this ever happened to her. This level of happiness was fleeting. Temporary. Just like her. And now, she knew that Bennett felt like that too. That she was his summer fling. His first ride back in the saddle after a five-year sabbatical.

With her heart still heavy and in her feet, she opened the trailer door. It wasn't until she stood under the shower spray that she allowed the tears to fall.

He tried to tell her more than once that her idea to move here was a pipe dream. An idealist's reverie. There was nothing for sale on the island, and even if there was, it was out of her price range. They had no idea if they'd get Bonn Remmen's land. So he couldn't commit to renting her a little plot of for a tiny house.

He tried to tell her and she got upset. She refused to listen. She called him a dream crusher.

And he was. But he was also practical, and her head was so far up in the clouds she was dodging airplanes.

Maybe she needed to cut her trip short. She still had a few weeks left and if they maintained the status quo, at the end of her time on the island, things would just be all the more painful. Because she had to leave. There was no place for her here. No where to buy, and clearly there was no room in Bennett's heart.

"Thank you so much for helping out in the kitchen these last couple of days," Wyatt said to Justine as she filleted fish like a pro. "Those surgical skills of yours are coming in handy. I'm not sure I've ever seen anybody fillet a fish so cleanly. You're hired!" He grinned at her and patted her on the back.

She smiled at Bennett's brother. Of the five brothers, Wyatt and Dom looked the most alike. They both had blue-hazel eyes, dark-brown hair with natural sun streaks, and chiseled jaws like the men had been carved from marble. Bennett was the sexiest in her opinion, but all five—Jagger and Clint included—were handsome men. She would prefer Dom to lose the man-bun though, and was grateful Bennett didn't have one.

"How many times has Ashli emailed you with menu changes?" she asked him with a note of sarcasm in her voice.

He huffed a humorless laugh and wiped his hands on his black chef's jacket. "Only eight."

"Only? I was kind of kidding."

"First was to request that we make sure there are gluten-free and dairy-free options, as well as vegan. Totally understandable. Easy to accommodate. The next email was to request that we not send all the arancini out at once."

"Okay."

"We would never do that. Dom and I might not run a fucking catering business per se, but we're also not morons. Emails number three and four came within two minutes of each other. They were to inform me that we are to not let Ashli's brother Jaxksyn—and I'm going to spell it for you. J-A-X-K-S-Y-N."

Justine's eyes bugged out.

"Yeah," Wyatt confirmed with a cringe. "Anyway, email numbers three and four were to emphasize that we can't let Jaxksyn eat more than four of the steak sliders. Apparently, he's the type who will stuff food into his pockets. We're also supposed to not let him go back for second helpings of the prawns."

"So that's four emails."

"Five, six, and seven involved the dietary restrictions of her Maid of Honor, who is keto, but also vegan. We're supposed to make a special dish for her. So she sent me a few recipes that the Maid of Honor approved."

Was the Maid of Honor the same nurse from the bathroom when Justine first learned of Ashli and Tad's affair and baby?

"And the last email was this morning. It was to inform me that Ashli has developed an aversion to shellfish because of the pregnancy. So we need to remove all shellfish from the menu. That includes shrimp, clams, prawns, crab, and everything else."

Justin's jaw dropped. "You're kidding?"

"Nope. Willy Reilly was pissed when I messaged him to cancel the crab order."

"I bet."

Wyatt's phone pinged in his back pocket and he rolled his eyes. "Five bucks says it's Princess Rotten Peach with another request." Justine glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was almost noon. She still had a few hours before the bowels of hell unleashed upon the island. "And, speak of the fucking she-devil." Justine's hands were all fishy, so Wyatt just held the phone in front of her so she could read Ashli's email herself.

Hey Wyatt,

It's Ashli Busche, soon-to-be DuPonte. One more thing about the menu, Tad LOVES ribs. Is there any way we can add ribs to the menu? Thanks.

Toodles.

- Ashli.

"Toodles?" Justine said, pretending to gag.

"That's how she signs off her emails. That, or ‘kisses.'" He shook his head. "We can't add fucking ribs to the menu this late in the game. I don't want to insult a pregnant woman, but the baby is literally sucking the woman's brains clean from her skull."

"Not sure she had much to begin with," Justine murmured.

Wyatt snickered. "Doesn't sound like it, no." He scratched his thick head of hair. "She does realize that we had to place orders for the food from distributors and suppliers, right? This is an island. It takes time to get shit shipped. We don't even have ribs on the pub menu, so it's not like I can just grab a rack from the freezer."

"I don't know what to tell you," Justine said with a shrug. "I don't know the woman very well. Thank god. But based on what I do know, this all seems par for the course that is Ashli Busche. She is entitled."

"Well, yeah. She slept with your fiancé. She felt entitled to another woman's man."

Snorting, Justine smiled at him. "That she did."

"I've managed to basically accommodate everything else she's requested. How do you think she's going to take it when I tell her that's a hard no on the ribs?"

"Like a pouty princess."

He pouted. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Knock, knock," came a breathy, valley girl voice from the back door of the kitchen that was usually only used by staff and suppliers.

Justine froze. She glanced at the clock. It was only ten after twelve.

Wyatt read her mind and glanced at his phone. "What the fuck is she doing here so early?" he whispered right before Ashli clickety clacked her heels around the corner.

"Wyatt?" Ashli asked.

Justine put down the filet knife and dropped to the floor behind the prep station into a crouch.

Wyatt glanced down at her. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to see her," she mouthed.

Ashli was on the other side of the prep table so she couldn't see Justine. "There you are," she said to Wyatt, all bubbly and stupid. "We got here a bit early. I want to start my wedding weekend with as much time to soak in the magic as possible."

Wyatt cleared his throat. "Uh … check-in isn't until three."

"Oh, we're paying a king's ransom for this wedding. I'm sure Bennett will be fine letting us into the cabin early. Tad is taking care of that now. But I just wanted to come chat with you and see if you got my email. I sent it just before we pulled onto the property."

"Uh … actually, Ashli, it's too late to add ribs. I'm really sorry. I don't even have any in the freezer, as we don't offer ribs on our menu. You approved the cod, chicken, and roast for the entrée options. There are steak-sandwich sliders, arancini, canapes, caprese skewers, and melon and prosciutto bites for the appetizers. Not to mention all the sides and salads. Your head count is fifty. We've accounted for that. There will be more than enough food."

Justine didn't have to see the woman to know she was pouting. "And here I thought the fact that we're paying so much for this event—in a place that doesn't even offer weddings—that you'd be accommodating for this one, simple request."

"If I had more time, then yes. But you moved the wedding date up by two weeks and requested ribs a day before the event. It's impossible. We live on an island and need to have everything shipped to us."

She scoffed. "Isn't there like a grocery store or something on this piddly rock? In fact, I know there is. I went there when I ran out of foundation. They don't have a very nice cosmetics section though. Covergirl and Maybelline were it. Um, no."

Wyatt sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

"That's the spirit. Now is there anything I can sample? This pregnant lady is starving."

"Umm, no. Unfortunately. We have things prepped, but nothing is put together. We'll do that tomorrow so it's fresh. We're actually in the middle of the lunch rush, right now so …"

Ashli huffed. "Fine. I guess I'll go see if Tad has unloaded our bags into the cabin yet." Then she clickety-clacked her way back out of the kitchen.

Justine, who'd pretty much been holding her breath the entire time, glanced up at Wyatt for the all clear.

He looked ready to run away and join the circus. Or at the very least, spit in Ashli's canapes. "You can come out now. The witch is gone."

Slowly, Justine rose, keeping a watchful eye on the direction of the backdoor, in case Miss Busche, soon-to-be DuPonte, clickety-clacked her way back in for another "simple request ."

"Are you going to go to the grocery store to buy ribs?"

" Pfsst ." Wyatt made a face. "No. I said that I'd see what I could do. And what I can do is stay in my fucking kitchen and serve the customers out in the pub, and prep for that bitch's wedding tomorrow. Fucking ribs. Goddamn …" He shook his head. "If he's even half as bad as her, you dodged a goddamn bullet."

Justine nibbled on the inside of her bottom lip. "Yeah, I kind of realized that when he got her pregnant. Sometimes I can be a slow study."

His expression turned sympathetic. "You just tried to see the good in him. I get that. It's a commendable quality."

"Hey, Wyatt, can you come help me over here for a sec?" Burke called from the other side of the kitchen.

"Sure thing." He gave Justine another small, reassuring smile. "You've done a great job on the fish, but if you'd rather take off, you're more than welcome to. We can handle it from here."

She nodded. "I'll just clean up my station and wash my hands. Thanks, Wyatt. I forgot how much I enjoyed cutting."

He gave her a cheeky wink, then disappeared behind a portion of the wall.

Justine cleaned up her filleting station, wiping down the stainless-steel table until it was spotless and sterile. She put the fillets in the walk-in fridge. Then, poking her head out of the back door to make sure the coast was clear, she tiptoed like a creeper across the parking lot, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of Tad the Cad or Ashli the … godawful.

The coast was clear, and she was nearly at the base of the hill up to the private property, but of course, she let her guard down and that's when someone called her name.

"Justine? Is that you?"

Crap. It was Tad.

Every cell in her body caught fire as she steeled herself and slowly spun to face him, plastering on a smile that even the bees and butterflies could tell was fake.

"What are you doing here?" he accused. "Did you follow us?"

Her jaw dropped. "I've been here for weeks," she finally said. It was a bit of a lie. She'd only been there two weeks, but he didn't need to know that.

"Bullshit." The briny breeze picked up a swath of his sandy blond hair and flipped it off his forehead.

She glared at him. "What are you doing here, Tad? Did you follow me?"

His sneer made her want to peel off his face with a ten-blade. Sometimes she hated the Hippocratic oath. There were people out there who deserved harm. People like Tad. "I heard you had a mental breakdown after you killed that patient, and took a sabbatical. So you came here to … what?"

That aggravating lump was back in her throat. "I came here for a break," she croaked. "And no, I didn't have a mental breakdown. Is that what people are saying?"

He ignored her question. "Your parents called me. Said you've been ignoring them. They asked what was going on."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them what I know."

"And what do you know, Tad?"

"That you killed a patient and nobody at the hospital has seen you since. The nurses in the OR that day said you froze."

"The nurses, huh?"

He squinted at her with his soulless, pale-blue eyes. "So are you staying in one of the cabins or something?"

"I'm staying on the island."

"Where?"

"What does it matter? We're not together anymore. Why do you give a crap about anything I do? You didn't give a crap about me when we were together."

"You're coming across as really bitter, Justine. It's not a good look for you."

"And your Botox is wearing off, Tad."

His nostrils flared. "I'm having a … gathering here tomorrow and I just want to make sure you're not going to bring your bitter attitude and ruin it. It would be best if you steered clear of the pub. In fact, it'd be best if you steered clear of the entire area for at least the next five days."

"Are you trying to lay claim to private property?"

"I'm paying to be here."

"So am I."

He sneered again. "I really thought you'd be more mature than this, Justine. We simply wanted different things. You just refuse to let go and move on."

"Yeah, we did want different things. I wanted fidelity and someone I could trust. You wanted …" She waved her hand in the air flippantly, searching for an appropriate and effective insult for Ashli. Lord knew the McEvoy brothers had come up with enough of them already.

Tad huffed a haughty laugh. "Just leave our family in peace, Justine."

The word family was like a someone had just cracked open her chest, reached in and ripped out her beating heart. And judging by the smile on his smarmy face, he knew he'd hit a vital artery with his jeer.

"I'll stay away from you if you stay away from me," she said, all the fight draining from her body and leaving her with a chill. She struggled not to shiver in front of him. But she managed. That was all she could manage. "Congratulations on the baby, by the way. I hope it looks like neither of you." Then she spun on her heel in the gravel and booked it up the hill, yanking her phone out of her back pocket and sending off a text message to her parents.

I hear you called Tad. Yes, a patient died on my table. Yes, I'm taking it hard. No, I didn't have a mental breakdown. Yes, I am taking a sabbatical. And in case he didn't tell you the WHOLE truth, Tad had an affair with a nurse and got her pregnant. So we are NOT getting married. I am alive. I am working through things. I will be in touch when I am ready but please just give me the space I need to heal. I love you both.

She hit send before she could over-think things and delete it.

It wasn't until she was through the man-door of the security gate that she exhaled the CO2 that burned her lungs like liquid nitrogen.

She paused and bent over, putting her hands on her thighs as she gulped down big lungfuls of fresh oxygen.

"You okay?" came a sweet, familiar voice. "Justine? Are you okay?"

It was Emme, and she was sitting quietly in the trees, perched on a stump and sketching some of the wildflowers that preferred the shade. She slid off her stump and came over to Justine, crouching down.

"Did something happen?"

How much did you tell a nine-year-old? They were trying so hard not to pile too much responsibility on her. Not to parentify her. Would telling her why Justine was in pain be too much information?

Emme rubbed Justine's back. "Come into the house. Let's get you some water."

Justine allowed Emme to escort her into the house, where she guided Justine onto the couch, then brought her a glass of water. She sat beside Justine, ready to listen.

"I saw someone from my past just now. He hurt me a lot, and he tried to hurt me again."

Emme's brown eyes went wide. "Like hit you?"

"No, no." She shook her head. "Like hurt my heart. My feelings. With his words. He was my boyfriend. Then he decided he didn't want to be anymore, but he ended things in a really awful way. It's part of the reason why I came to the island. To just … get away and let my heart heal after he hurt it. But he's here … he's staying in cabin five. We just bumped into each other and he was so mean again."

Emme's lips dropped into a cute little frown. "I'm sorry he tried to hurt you. That's not very nice."

"No. It's not."

Emme scooted forward and wrapped her arms around Justine in a hug.

Justine hugged her back. Tight. They held onto each other for a while, neither of them saying anything and slowly, the fight-or-flight feeling in her body began to fade. She pressed a kiss to Emme's head before pulling away, tears in her eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart. That was exactly what I needed."

Emme smiled.

"Where is your sister?"

"She went with Talia, Brooke, and Uncle Clint to the grocery store. I didn't want to go. Uncle Jagger has the boys on a bike ride. And my dad is down in his office or something."

"How do you feel being left alone? Not like too much responsibility is being put on you, I hope?"

Emme shook her head, jostling her dark curls. "No. I like the quiet. And my dad and uncles are just down the hill. She pointed to the walkie talkie on the coffee table. "I can talk to them whenever I want."

Exhaling a deep breath that seemed to cleanse her body of all remaining negative energy, Justine mustered a real smile. She took the little girl's hand. "I think I'm just going to hang out up here for the rest of the day, if you don't mind the company?"

Emme lit up. "That's okay. I was just sketching some flowers outside."

"That actually sounds really relaxing."

"I have an extra sketchpad and colored pencils. Do you want to go do it together?"

The back of Justine's eyes stung as she nodded. "I'd honestly love nothing more, Emerson. Truly."