The Return Of Antonides. Anne McAllister
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“There are planes,” Matt had said. “Get on one.”
Lukas had argued, but Matt was implacable. “You’re my best friend,” he’d insisted. “You’ve always been there, always had my back.”
The words had stabbed his conscience. “Fine,” he’d muttered. “I’ll come.”
He’d done it. Had even managed a toast to the happy couple at the reception. Then he’d got the hell out of there, lying about the departure time of the plane he had to catch. He’d been back in Thailand twenty-four hours later—back to his real life, back to being footloose and fancy-free. Matt could have marriage with its boredom and sameness.
Lukas had been telling himself that for a decade now. Today was no different, he thought as he shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted out across the water. It was just a matter of putting the past to rest.
And then he saw her.
One minute he was scanning the water where everyone pretty much looked alike paddling their canoes and kayaks and pedal boats in the confines of the marina. The next moment his gaze locked onto a woman in the back of a canoe out near the breakwater. There were two kids in front. And in the back there was Holly.
His heart kicked over in his chest. He didn’t know how he’d missed her before. There was, as always, a purposefulness about her. Everyone else was splashing and floundering. Holly was cutting through the water with ease and determination, as if she knew what she wanted and aimed to get it.
She hadn’t changed a bit.
He remembered when she hadn’t known how to paddle a canoe, and, taking advantage of that, Lukas had refused to let her come with him and Matt.
Her chin had jutted. Her eyes had flashed. “I’ll learn.”
He’d scoffed. “From who?”
It turned out his oldest brother, Elias, was no proof against big blue eyes. Elias had taught her, and the next time they went canoeing, Holly had come, too.
Suddenly there came a whistle from the car park. A man wearing a green St. Brendan’s T-shirt waved broadly. “Bring ’em in!”
With greater or lesser skill, the paddlers turned their canoes and kayaks and headed for shore. Lukas kept his eyes on Holly. He could see her talking to the students, giving instructions to back off a bit and let the earlier arrivals dock first.
She still hadn’t seen him, but she was close enough now that Lukas could study her more easily. Gone were the luxuriant dark waves she’d worn at her wedding. Now she had the same pixie-ish look she’d had as a child. Most of her face was hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and she wore a sun visor for shade, as well. The boy in the front of her canoe said something that made her laugh. And Lukas’s breath caught in his throat at the husky yet feminine sound.
“Gimme a hand, mister?”
Lukas looked down to see a kayak alongside the dock and two boys looking up at him. One held out a line to wrap around the cleat. Lukas crouched down to steady the kayak while the boys scrambled out. Then he helped them haul it out so they could carry it up to the waiting van. Out of the corner of his eye, he kept an eye on Holly’s canoe where she was talking to her students. She was still several feet away from the dock.
One by one, as the canoes and kayaks came up against the dock, Lukas helped them all until finally when he turned back there was just one canoe left.
Holly sat in the stern, unmoving, her sunglass-hidden gaze locked on him. No question that she’d seen him now.
Lukas straightened nonchalantly. “Holly,” he said casually. “Imagine meeting you here.”
The boy and girl in the canoe looked at him, surprised. Holly’s sunglasses hid her reaction. She still didn’t move as the two students brought the canoe against the tires lining the dock, and Lukas grabbed the bow to hold it for them.
The boy scrambled out, followed by the girl. Holly stayed where she was.
“Thanks, mister,” the boy said.
“You’re welcome.” Lukas had seen all the St. Brendan’s canoes now, and this one, with its deep, narrow hull, was far nicer and swifter than the wide-bottomed trio he’d helped pull out earlier. He let his gaze slide slowly over it, then brought it to rest on the woman who hadn’t moved. “Nice canoe. Yours, Holly?”
“How come you know Ms. Halloran?” the girl demanded.
“We grew up together—I’ve known Ms. Halloran since she was about your age.”
The boy’s brow furrowed, as if he couldn’t imagine either of them being that young. “You kiddin’?”
“Not kidding.” Lukas held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a Boy Scout!” Holly blurted.
“Ah, she speaks,” Lukas drawled.
Her freckled cheeks were suddenly a deep red.
“I was a Cub Scout,” Lukas said, “when I was eight. You didn’t know me when I was eight.”
Holly gave a muffled grunt. She still didn’t move to get out.
And knowing her, she probably wouldn’t, unless Lukas forced the issue. “Nice to see you again, too, Hol’. It’s been a long time.” He held out a hand to help her out of the canoe, daring her to refuse it.
She muttered something under her breath that sounded like “Not long enough.”
And of course, she ignored his hand. Instead, she set the paddle on the dock and shoved herself up, trying to step sideways at the same time so as to avoid his outstretched hand.
In a flatter-bottomed canoe, it might have worked. In this one, she’d barely edged sideways when the canoe tipped.
“Oh!” she yelped. “Oh, hel—”
“Ms. Halloran!” The kids shrieked as Holly pitched, arms flailing into the water.
Lukas couldn’t hide the unholy grin that stretched across his face.
More kids came running. So did the men loading the canoes onto the trailer with St. Brendan’s van. Lukas didn’t move.
Holly sputtered to the surface, hair streaming, sunglasses gone, those all-too-memorable blue eyes shooting sparks in his direction. He still couldn’t stop grinning.
All around him kids clamored. “Ms. Halloran! Are you okay?”
“Ms. Halloran! You fell in!”
“You’re s’posed to stay in the center of the canoe, Ms. Halloran!”
One of the men who’d come from the van pushed past Lukas, a hand outstretched to help her. “Are you all right?”
“She’s