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“And what about us?”
“I don’t know, Connor. I need to think,” she said, unable to keep the hurt and anger out of her tone.
“I’ll come over after work, and we’ll talk. I don’t want this to mess us up.” He came over and kissed her. “I love you, Abby.”
She closed her eyes. “I know you do.”
Another kiss, and he was gone.
Abby placed her face in her hands.
If only you could trust me, too.
Chapter Eleven
Connor removed his hard hat and used the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat on his brow. The construction crew they’d hired was on a lunch break, and he removed his earplugs before taking a swig of water. They’d made decent progress digging the hole for the foundation of the museum.
Unfortunately, no amount of digging or the distraction of needing to answer a million questions could take Connor’s mind off what happened over the past twenty-four hours with Abby.
First had been the mind-blowing sex. They’d always had an active and creative sex life, but last night put their past escapades to shame.
The intimacy went beyond satisfying their physical need.
He’d told Abby he loved her, and she said it back.
She loved him.
He wanted to shout it from the top of the lighthouse.
Except overshadowing the joy of hearing her admit her feelings was the way they’d ended things earlier.
The last thing Connor had expected was to find orange spray paint cans and the newspaper article in Abby’s closet.
Had he handled it right by basically accusing her of being responsible for the vandalism?
Not at all.
In his defense, given the paint and newspaper were discovered in Abby’s apartment, it was natural to wonder if there could be a link to the vandalism. At least indirectly connected, in Connor’s opinion.
Could she blame him for jumping to conclusions? Abby had made a huge fuss about the pier expansion. Enough to draw attention from the media and cause the foundation team, mayor, and town council to consider other options to avoid further problems and bad press.
Still, what did it say about his opinion of her—of their relationship—that he, for even a moment, thought her capable of something illegal?
And now what? Had he blown his chance with her?
Meanwhile, if Abby hadn’t put the paper and paint in her closet, who had? Could Natalie be responsible? How about Abby’s nephew? Hadn’t she said Liam had been getting into trouble? The necklace Connor found was something a young boy would wear.
Frustrated, he walked along the rocks that bordered the lighthouse. From early childhood, it had been a favorite place to hang out. He used to take stale bread—when there was any—and feed the pelicans. There was a group who used to populate this portion of the island. One in particular had a distinctive scar on his bill, and Connor and his friends had named him Percy. He and the rest of the pelicans disappeared after Hurricane Samantha.
Hopefully, creating the nature trail would attract pelicans and other wildlife to the island. But until the vandals were caught, Connor hesitated to put forth more effort in building the trail.
Which led him back to his dilemma with Abby.
“Hey, bro,” Jason said as he made his way across the rocks. “Nice day for digging.”
Connor caught the wrapped sandwich his brother tossed him. “Yeah, perfect conditions. We keep up this pace and we should have the foundation dug in a couple of days.”
They ate in silence, the only interruption from the faint sound of music in the background, the waves crashing against the rocks, and a few seagulls circling overhead.
