I had to discuss this with Murray, and he’d obviously had a bad day. What I’d observed about Murray over the last eighteen months was that he had this steady calmness. No matter the situation, even when it was a tense one like the time in the Lantern when this drunk guy who had a problem with Taran and Quinn had come in to accost us all … Murray had rushed to stand in front of me so I didn’t get caught in the crossfire ofthat argument. But he hadn’t been aggressive or irate. He’d been calm. Steady.
I guess that’s one of the reasons I’d felt safe enough to propose this deal to him.
Today at the harbor was the first time I’d seen him agitated, but when I discovered what people were saying about him, I realized why.
How could a town know this guy their whole lives and think he would use me like that? I mean, we were using each other, but they didn’t know that. They were positioning this like I was some naive little girl who had fallen in love with a guy who was only using her to get one over on his ex-wife.
One, I was almost thirty years old and far from naive.
Two, didn’t they know Murray better than that?
Yet the weird awkward kiss between us made my cheeks hot every time my mind wandered to it.
I groaned as I pulled my SUV to a stop outside the house. It was mortifying. He’d gone in for a peck, I thought he was going for something deeper, and I’d nearly face-planted when he pulled back.
I stared in mortification up at the house.
After prep, I’d gone to the grocery store to grab essentials, milk and the bagels I liked for breakfast. I didn’t want Murray to think I was a moocher. Shona McIver, the woman who ran the fishmonger, was shopping in the store too and she’d approached me. She gave me a friendly smile but there was a strain to it, and I understood why when she started grilling me about how long Murray and I had been dating.
I’d politely declined to provide her with information about my private life.
“Och, well, we’re just all so curious.” Shona’s smile had dropped. “Murray is a bit of a catch, you see. Always has been. He went from one serious girlfriend to another. But it wasn’tuntil he met Jill on the mainland that he married … Aye, it seems he has an aversion to his own islanders.”
That’s when I realized what weird vibes she was giving off.
Shona was jealous.
Had the divorcée been interested in Murray? Had something happened between them that I didn’t know about?
The idea made me feel an overwhelming possessiveness.
Like … it made me impatient and restless.
And deeply upset.
Because everyone might think Murray was mine, but he wasn’t really. Had he been with Shona at some point?
I’d blame that feeling of possessiveness for what I said next.
“Well, when his ‘own islanders’ go around suggesting a good man they’ve known all their lives would sink as low as to seduce a young woman into marrying him just to get his ex off his company’s books, is it any wonder he wouldn’t want to marry one of you?”
Shona’s jaw had dropped and I might have felt bad at her obvious outrage, but I was still bristling. I’d paid for my groceries and strode out without another word, knowing that what I’d said would probably spread through the village within hours.
Sitting in the car, I wondered how long it would take to reach Murray’s ears.
I had to face him at some point.
After I’d let myself into the mudroom, taken off my shoes and coat, I forced myself upstairs. The delicious smell hit my nostrils before I was even halfway up. My chef nose detected garlic, tomato, and thyme. It was a novelty having someone else cook for me. When I lived with Nick, he insisted on using a private chef whenever we ate in, which, in retrospect, was just another way for him to devalue me. Living with Taran, I always cookedbecause it was my way of thanking her for giving me a safe place to land.
Along with the cooking smells was the sound of music on low.
I strolled into the kitchen and the music became clearer. To my surprise, it was one of my favorite bands, Lord Huron.
Murray turned his head to watch me enter. He stood at the stove, stirring one pot while another boiled away at its side. He’d trimmed his hair and beard for our wedding ceremony and he looked more handsome than ever.
Attraction swooped in my belly as our eyes met, and it was followed by a deep, aching sense of longing. For a second, I wished this was real. That I wasn’t still picking up the pieces of the broken person I’d been eighteen months ago. That I was together enough, brave enough, to reach out to this man and say,Let’s try this for real.
Because wouldn’t it be lovely coming home every night to a gentle man, a gentleman, who could cook and played my favorite music?
