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“He didn’t ask for my help,” Ismay volunteered.
“But I’m grateful for it,” Bo said.
Because they were supporting each other, there wasn’t much more Bastian could do to cause trouble, and he seemed to recognize that. “Okay, well, see you back at the house,” he said and left.
After Bo closed the door, he paused at the kitchen sink—presumably to watch Bastian leave—before returning to the table.
“Sorry about that,” Ismay murmured. She knew Bo had to hate Bastian’s patronizing tone. Remy’s brother was obviously trying to assert his superiority, but the fact that he felt the need to do that told Ismay he had self-esteem issues. Bastian probably felt threatened by Bo’s quiet confidence, his self-assured manner, or just that indefinable something that made him so likeable. “He seems to have a problem with you. Has that always been the case?”
“It seems more pronounced than before. But don’t worry about it,” Bo said. “I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of assholes.”
Ismay suffered through watching a movie with Bastian. He talked over most of it, but she wasn’t that interested, anyway. He’d chosen a predictable action flick with exploding cars and men hanging from helicopters, and her mind was on other things. The stuff she’d found in the closet. The girl’s picture she’d put on her phone. The comment Bo had made about Remy being the more difficult twin when they were children.
Who had told him that? And more difficult in what way?
Then there was her curiosity as to why Bastian had come to the island. He’d known she’d be here, that he wouldn’t have the house to himself. But then, she got the impression he didn’t like being alone. Maybe he’d been curious about her and simply wanted to meet her, plus coming here got him out of work. She’d heard plenty about how he avoided any kind of responsibility.
She was also thinking about Jack. Her sensitive, hardworking brother had to be devastated. She’d texted him as she walked back from Bo’s, and he’d replied with a text that said he was surviving. He couldn’t talk at the time, was currently helping harvest the snow peas on the farm, but she hoped they could speak later. She knew how hard it would be for him to go home to an empty house. Could she get him to come to Mariners for the summer? Could he be honest enough with their parents to admit that he didn’t want to follow in their footsteps?
Even if hedidwant to be a farmer, she believed some time away—to meditate, cope with the divorce, and see another part of the country—would be good for him. What Ashleigh had done would be old news by the time he returned, which would take the edge off the spread of that gossip. And if he came right away, she could spend some quality time with him before Remy arrived—no matter where he stayed—and have a good excuse to escape Bastian.
“Can you believe he did that?”
Ismay blinked and looked over at Remy’s brother. “I’m sorry. What are you referring to?”
“Aren’t you watching?” he asked.
She cleared her throat. “I admit...my mind was wandering. My brother’s currently going through a divorce. I’m worried about him.”
“Which brother?” Bastian said. “Remy told me you have like...a hundred.”
He laughed, and she forced herself to smile, but in that moment, she knew she had to get away from him. He’d exhausted her patience. “It’s Jack, the brother closest to me in age. Listen, I’m pretty tired. With the storm, it was hard to get enough sleep—”
“Even with Bo here?” he broke in.
She gritted her teeth before forcing her jaw to relax. “We were up late, what with the damage to his house and the power going out, and all that. I’m going to turn in. I hope you don’t mind.”
“You don’t want to watch the rest of the movie?”
Hadn’t she just said that? “No. I’m going to go call my brother.”
“It’s nearly eleven. Will he be up at this hour?”
“It’s two hours earlier in Utah, and he was working when I tried to reach him earlier. He’ll probably just be getting home.”
Bastian gestured at the TV. “We can watch something else if you’d rather...”
Ignoring the offer, she got up. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, and felt a rush of relief once she’d climbed the stairs and closed the door to Remy’s bedroom behind her.
“Thank God,” she murmured and took out her phone. She was just sitting on the bed to call Jack when she received a text from Bo.
Thank you for your help today—and for the food. It was delicious.
You’re welcome. Are you okay over there now? Power’s still on?
I’m fine. How was the movie?
I would rather have played chess.
