elastic maternity waist.”
“They fit your behind just fine.”
To emphasize his point he moved his fingers to where they were snug in her back pockets.
“We’ll have the whole island talking,” she murmured.
He snorted. “As if they aren’t already? I think everyone who lives here has been out to either look at us or tell me what a wonderful thing I did by stopping the construction. And I think it’s a widely known fact that it’s my child you’re carrying. What else could they possibly talk about beyond that?”
“Okay, you have a point,” she said wryly.
He leaned down and kissed her softly. “Why don’t we take our jeans-clad selves back to your cottage and I’ll fix us some lunch.”
She raised her eyebrows. “What have you got in mind?”
“I don’t know. It depends on what you have in your pantry. You cooked breakfast for us and you’ve taken me around town all morning. The least I can do is pamper you awhile. Are your feet tired?”
She laughed even as her heart squeezed at the concern in his voice.
“My feet are fine, but I wouldn’t turn down a massage if you’re offering.”
He gave her a smile filled with genuine warmth. “I think that could be arranged.”
She flung her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. “Oh, Rafael. Today has been perfect. Just perfect. Thank you.”
When she pulled away, he had a befuddled expression on his face as if he didn’t know quite how to respond to her outburst.
“I had no idea shopping for jeans made you so happy,” he teased.
She flashed him a cheeky grin. “Only when I get to see you wear them.”
He patted her affectionately on the behind and then gestured for her to go ahead of him. “Let’s go then. All this shopping has worked up my appetite.”
She laced her fingers with his, delighting in the sense of closeness that had quickly built between them. Whether he remembered or not, the moment they’d arrived, Bryony had sensed a change in Rafael. He’d reverted to the more relaxed, easygoing man with whom she’d fallen in love.
He may not see himself as someone who would get away from the stress of the business world, or someone who would leave his cell phone off or his computer put away for a period of days, but Moon Island had changed him. She’d like to think that his relationship with her had changed his priorities. Maybe it was fanciful and naive for her to think such things, but it didn’t stop her from hoping that he’d rediscover the island—and her.
They drove back to the cottage but Bryony directed him to pull into her grandmother’s driveway instead of her own.
“I want to check in with her and see how she’s doing. I’ve only talked to her on the phone for the last week. I don’t often leave her for long periods of time.”
Rafael nodded. “Of course. Would you prefer I go ahead to your cottage and begin lunch?”
“Only if you want to. I don’t mind if you come unless you’re uncomfortable. I’m only going to talk to her a minute or two. Make sure everything’s okay.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” Rafael said. “I’d like to get reacquainted. You two seem to be very close. Did I spend a lot of time with her before?”
Bryony smiled. “You got along famously. You’d drop in on her every other day or so whether I was with you or not. You spoiled her by bringing her favorite flowers and a box of goodies from the bakery.”
“I sounded … nice,” he said, as though the idea were ridiculous.
She paused in the act of opening her car door and turned her head so she looked directly at him. “You say that as if you aren’t … nice.”
He shrugged. “Bastard has been used on more than one occasion to describe me. This morning being the most recent. I’ve been called a lot of things. Ruthless. Driven. Ambitious. Son of a bitch. You name it. But nice? I can’t say that being thoughtful was ever a priority. It’s not that I intended to be a jerk, but I was never really concerned about it.”
“Well, you were wonderful to my grandmother and I loved you for it,” she said. “You were wonderful to me, too. Maybe you don’t associate with the right people.”
He laughed at that. “Maybe you’re right. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
Bryony’s grandmother appeared on the front porch and waved for them to come in. Bryony reached over and squeezed Rafael’s hand. “Stop worrying so much about what you were or weren’t. No one says you have to stay the same forever. Maybe you were ready for a change. Here you could be whoever you wanted because no one knew you before. You got to have a fresh start.”
He raised her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “What I think is that you’re a special woman, Bryony Morgan.”
She smiled again and opened her car door. As she got out, she waved at her grandmother. “We’re coming!”
Mamaw smiled and waved, then waited with the screen door open while Rafael and Bryony made their way up the steps.
“Good afternoon to you,” Mamaw said cheerfully.
She pulled Bryony into a hug and then did the same with Rafael, who looked a little dumbstruck by the reception.
“Come in, come in, you two. I just sweetened a pitcher of tea and it’s ready to pour. I’ll get us some glasses. Have a seat on the back porch if you like. It’s a beautiful day and the water is gorgeous.”
Bryony tugged Rafael to the glass doors leading onto a deck that was similar in build to her own. The wood was older and more worn but it added character. The railings were dotted with potted plants and flowers. Colorful knickknacks and decorative garden figurines were scattered here and there, giving the deck an eclectic feel.
Bryony often thought it resembled a rummage sale, but it so fit her grandmother’s personality that it never failed to bring a smile to Bryony’s face.
Mamaw didn’t much believe in throwing things away. She wasn’t a hoarder and she would part with stuff after a while, but she liked to collect items she said made her house more homey.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Rafael said. “It’s so quiet and peaceful. There aren’t many stretches of private beach like this. It must be amazing to have this all to yourself.”
Bryony settled into one of the padded deck chairs and angled her head up to catch the full sun on her face. “It is,” she said, her eyes closed. “The whole island is like this. It’s why we’re so resistant to the idea of commercially developing parts of it. Once the first bit of ‘progress’ creeps in, it’s like a snowball. Soon the island would just be another tourist stop with cheesy T-shirts and cheap trinkets.”
“What I purchased was just a drop in the bucket for an island this size. Surely you don’t begrudge
