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“I didn’t ask.” She lowered her voice just in case Bastian had come up the stairs. “He seemed pretty put out to find me in the master, so I’ve moved into your old room.”
“Why would he care if you’re in the master? Don’t tell me he’s taking it for himself...”
He didn’t seem to be concerned with her being in his old space. Did that mean he didn’t know what had been hidden in the wall?
Possibly. But it would also be safe to assume she’d never find it. That no one would. If not for that freak storm, she wouldn’t have. It wasbehindthe wall.
“I think so,” she said. “It sounded like it. But I didn’t ask.”
“What the hell?! Let me call him and see what’s going on.”
Afraid Bastian would spin a salacious tale about her and Bo, Ismay cringed. Normally, she wouldn’t have cared. Any woman would be glad not to be alone in a strange house on a strange island while facing such a ferocious storm. And with Bo’s house the way it was, she couldn’t leave him—literally—out in the cold.
She’d chosen the safest option for both of them. That was all. And absolutely nothing untoward had happened.
And yet, as Remy disconnected so he could call his brother, she felt a niggle of guilt. She and Bo could’ve slept in separate rooms instead of on separate couches.
She could only hope it wouldn’t come up—but she didn’t think Bastian would miss such a golden opportunity to drive a wedge between her and Remy. He seemed to enjoy stirring up trouble.
She also felt guilty because she’d been glad of such a good excuse to have Bo stay over again. Sharing the cottage hadn’t been purely practical, like she wanted them to believe. She’d enjoyed spending time with him.
The weather was dry and clear. But that was the only thing Bo had going for him. Most of the stuff in his refrigerator and freezer had spoiled, and the power was still off when he got home, so he couldn’t even make toast. He’d had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before getting on the roof, but that was probably two hours ago, and he was hungry again.
He was also working at a deficit in other ways. The chainsaw he needed to finish chopping up the tree was out of gas. Since he didn’t want to take the time to go to town, he’d been reduced to using a hatchet. That made the process much slower, but at least he had most of the tree off the roof. He was just finishing up when he heard Ismay call his name.
As promised, she’d brought him breakfast. At least, it looked that way. She was holding up a picnic basket.
“You ready to eat?” she called out.
“In a sec. Stand back. Way back!” He gestured until she was at the edge of the surrounding thicket, well out of harm’s way. Then he managed to use a branch he’d chopped off as a lever to lift the heavy trunk, which went crashing to the ground.
“Now I am,” he called down and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket as he carefully made his way back to the ladder. The sun hadn’t been out long enough to dry the roof, so the shingles were still wet and slippery.
“How are things going with your new friend?” he asked once he’d reached the ground.
“This is probably mean to say about my future brother-in-law, but I don’t like him much,” she muttered with a grimace.
He almost told her she was in good company but decided that wasn’t very smart. Just because it felt like they were friends right now didn’t mean that wouldn’t change when Remy arrived. “Do you think he’s going to try to cause trouble?” he asked instead.
“I’m assuming that’s what he usually does.”
He beckoned her to the picnic table around back. No way did he want to take her into his soggy house. “Any idea how Remy will react?”
“No. When I called him earlier, he sounded blindsided. He said he wanted to talk to his brother and get back to me, but I haven’t heard from him yet. I think they’ve been fighting. Bastian stepped out of the house, presumably so I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could tell he was raising his voice, so I know they weren’t having a companionable discussion. I took the opportunity to make breakfast while I could be in the kitchen alone, left a plate for him on the table so he can’t claim you’re the only one I care about here—even though you are—and got out of there.” She laughed, then seemed to realize what she’d said and tried to correct it. “I mean, I don’t particularly like Bastian, so I wasn’t eager to make him breakfast. Not that I wouldn’t make Remy’s brother breakfast, or that I was eager to...”
He grinned at her when she realized she was just getting herself in deeper.
Letting her words trail off, she finally shoved the basket into his chest. “Here, take this.”
“I’m just glad to know you care about me,” he said, laughing.
“You’re going to get us both in trouble,” she muttered but he could tell she was having a hard time hiding her own smile.
He set the basket on the wooden table and started to open it. “I’m starving. What’d you make?”
“French toast with berries.”
“I haven’t had French toast in ages.”
