The Island Wedding Read online

  “No, I can’t hold,” she said the next day. She didn’t normally work weekends, but she had a wedding in a week, and she’d gotten a message at closing time yesterday that the vines she’d ordered would not be delivered in time.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, making her voice a little sweeter. “I’m just returning Madison’s call, and I really need to talk to her as soon as possible.”

  “She’s not in today,” the girl on the other end of the line said.

  “I know that,” Deirdre said. “Who else can I talk to about an order that I’ve had in for three months?”

  “Please hold,” the girl said, not asking this time. Deirdre couldn’t protest, because she’d literally just asked to talk to someone who could help her. Disgusting elevator music came through the line, and she pushed the speaker button so she didn’t have to hold the device to her ear the whole time.

  She looked at the files on her at-home desk, but she didn’t have anything else to do for this wedding. All the last-minute checks had been done this week, and they’d all come through—except for these vines.

  The music cut off, and Deirdre picked up the phone, expecting to hear the voice of someone who could help her. Instead the screen went black. “Did she hang up on me?”

  The call had definitely ended, and Deirdre’s frustration rose through the roof as she practically stabbed her device to get the phone dialing again.

  “Jungle Plants,” the same girl said.

  “Yes, hello,” Deirdre said, a definite bite in her voice. “My name is Deirdre Bernard. I’m a wedding planner at Your Tidal Forever, and I had a three-month order that I was told wouldn’t be able to be fulfilled. I need to talk to someone about this order and what can be done about it. I have a bride expecting the ten-foot vines that you suddenly can’t deliver.”

  “Did Julie not pick up?”

  “No,” Deirdre said. “Julie did not pick up. Does Julie have a direct line?”

  “I’ll transfer you. Please hold.”

  “No—” Deirdre cut off as the sleepy music started again. A sigh came out of her mouth as she put the phone back on speaker.

  A text came in over the top of the call, and she caught Meg’s name. A blip of fear moved through her, because Meg had lectured her the whole way home about “getting out there” and that she’d seen her talking to Wyatt. How that was even possible, Deirdre didn’t know. But Meg taught third grade, and it was possible she had eyes in the back of her head, underneath all that dark hair.

  Deirdre had said she wanted to hear all about the speed-dating, and if Meg had met someone worth dating, but a woman chirped, “This is Julie,” before Deirdre could pick up her phone.

  “Yes, hi, Julie. I have an order that’s been in for three months, and I got a call yesterday that it wouldn’t be fulfilled. I need those vines, and I’m wondering if there’s anything you can do for me.”

  Silence came through the line, and Deirdre checked to make sure she hadn’t been hung up on again. The timer was still ticking at the top of the screen. Julie just wasn’t saying anything.

  “Hello?” Deirdre asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Julie said. “You need to talk to our administration office, and they’re not in on the weekends.”

  “I know,” Deirdre said. “I already explained that to the girl who answered the phone. She said you could help me.”

  “Uh, I can’t even access the computer system on the weekends.”

  Deirdre blinked, and her vision went red for a moment. “Thank you.” She hung up this time, because she didn’t need to cause a scene. Hope and Shannon had been very clear about that. Things happened sometimes. Deirdre was to be professional even when things weren’t going her way.

  She sank into her office chair and opened Meg’s text. Rumors flying at the police station this morning. You sure you didn’t go out with Wyatt?

  A vision of Wyatt entered Deirdre’s mind, but she didn’t want to mention that yes, he’d been at the taco stand. I went and got tacos, she tapped out. Did you meet anyone noteworthy?

  There were hardly any men there, Meg responded. It was lame.

  Deirdre could’ve told her that the dating event would be quite lame, but she didn’t need to rub it in. Sorry.

  What are you doing today?

  Deirdre looked at the folder on her desk, a sigh moving through her whole body. Nothing. Thinking about going to a movie or something.

  As soon as Deirdre sent the text, she realized she didn’t want to leave the house. Maybe I’ll just make a fruit salad and lounge on my couch.

  Meg couldn’t stand to hold still for longer than five seconds, so lounging on the couch wouldn’t be in her wheelhouse. Boring, she sent with a smiley face emoji. I’m taking Father John to the beach. We’re going paddle boarding. You should come.

  And watch you and your dog paddle board? No thanks.

  Deirdre liked Meg, and they’d started at Your Tidal Forever within a week of each other. They’d relied on each other quite a lot as they learned the ropes of the company, but Deirdre didn’t get super close to people very quickly.

  Then she had to tell them things about her life she didn’t want anyone to know. Or rather, she didn’t mind if people knew about her life before Getaway Bay, but she only wanted people to know who she explicitly trusted.

  All right, Meg said. Be that way. See you Monday.

  Deirdre sent a thumbs-up and turned back to her house. “Well, what should we do today?” She hadn’t put out any cat food for the strays who frequented this street, so she took a few minutes to do that.

  She wanted to text Emma and find out how school was going, but she didn’t need to be accused of being overbearing or controlling. Again. Her chest tightened, and she opted to simply type out a quick note.

  Hope school was awesome this week. I love you.

  She would not send the message to her daughter, though. Contact with her daughter was prohibited. Deirdre could talk to Dalton, and she sometimes asked about Emma, though that could technically be against the rules of her order too.

  But she needed to know Emma was still alive, and the only way Deirdre knew that was because Dalton said she was.

  Deirdre wasn’t sure how she’d come out the bad guy with Emma, not when she’d done everything to protect her daughter from Dalton’s behavior. But of course, Emma didn’t know what Deirdre had done to make her childhood as normal as possible. What she’d shielded her from. What sacrifices she’d made for her daughter, some at a great personal loss for her.

  She hadn’t given up the only communication she had with her daughter easily, but in the end, she had given it up. Emma hadn’t responded to her texts for a month before Deirdre had been forced to stop talking to her daughter, but not a day went by that Deirdre didn’t think about Emma and wish things were different.

  She wondered what Wyatt did on the weekends, since they’d only had a few together. He’d worked a couple of them, and Deirdre had the sudden urge to steal something. Then maybe she’d get to see him again without being too obvious.

  Scratch that, she thought. Getting arrested just to see the Chief of Police was definitely too obvious. So how did she get Wyatt’s attention…again?

  Chapter Three

  Wyatt sat on his deck, a glass of lemonade beside him that would take him an hour to finish. He loved the first, very cold sip, and he loved the last, almost warm one too. He liked watching the waves roll ashore on the beach about a mile away, but he didn’t have to be around people to do it.

  He spent so much time around people, and sometimes he really needed a day of no talking. Now that Jennifer was married and off the island, Wyatt could go hours without speaking to someone.

  Turned out, the silence wasn’t as wonderful as he’d imagined it might be. He reached down and stroked Tigger, the German shepherd mix he’d found tangled in a buoy line a few years ago. No collar. He’d put out the word about the lost dog through every channel he had in Getaway Bay, but no one had come forward to cl
aim the dog.

  And Christine had just passed away, and Wyatt had needed a new companion. He loved Tigger with everything in him, and the dog sure did seem to like him too. He took him to work, to the grocery store, everywhere the dog could go and not have to wait in the hot car.

  “She told me no, Tig,” he said to the dog, still fixated on Deirdre’s rejection of him from the previous night. He’d thought about calling her and asking her to join him for tacos that night, but he still had some pride when it came to the woman.

  He’d messed things up with them last time, and she’d obviously moved past him. They’d only gone out for a month, and he had been severely unavailable during that time. He couldn’t blame her for patting his chest and saying, “Wyatt, this isn’t working. I don’t think you’re ready.”

  She’d been kind, and Wyatt had always been attracted to her physically and emotionally. She had a heart of gold, and there was so much more about her he wanted to know.

  His phone bleeped out a sound that indicated his sergeant had messaged. Wyatt didn’t want to look at the text, but he couldn’t ignore it for very long. He took another sip of lemonade and drew in a long, deep breath. Then he picked up the phone.

  Cam Locke was a good man. He ran a tight ship when he was in charge, and he’d be a good Chief when Wyatt retired.

  How was the Sandy Singles event?

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d broken his tranquil afternoon to read a text like that. His stomach growled for more than lemonade, and while he still had his phone in his hand, he saw that the food delivery app had Nuts About Dough listed as open. While it wasn’t breakfast time anymore, the pastry shop did stay open later on weekends, and a Morning Sunrise would hit the spot about now.

  Sausage patty, over-easy egg, delicious mayo mixed with relish, all on a doughnut for a bun. And it would show up at his house in less than twenty-five minutes.

  Satisfied with his purchase, he set his phone back on the table and faced the water again. “Then we’ll go chase a ball, okay?”

  Tigger didn’t answer, but Wyatt knew the dog would perk right up the moment the tennis ball came out. The dog would literally do anything to find it, and Wyatt did love watching him dig in the sand until Tigger found his mark. With the proper training, he could be a good rescue or drug dog, but he hadn’t gotten started with the training early enough in his life.

  His breakfast sandwich arrived, and Wyatt took his time eating it, the same way he savored his lemonade. Really, he was buying time until he had to leave the shade of his deck and take the dog to the beach. But he’d be happier if he did, because then Tigger would sleep for a bit that evening.

  Not that Wyatt had anything to do that night. Maybe more tacos. A shaved ice. Alone. He wondered if he would always be alone.

  Maybe his heart could stand the thought of another rejection if the possibility of not being alone was the reward.

  Maybe.

  Monday morning, Wyatt walked into the police station, the activity there a little too high, even for a Monday morning. “Morning, Norma,” he said to his secretary, and she immediately shot to her feet.

  “Sir, there’s a woman in your office.”

  “Oh?” He picked up his mail and looked at Norma. “Good visit or bad?”

  “That depends on the woman, doesn’t it?” She grinned, and Wyatt decided that certainly couldn’t mean he had an angry patron in his office, though Norma usually kept them away fairly easily.

  “Well, who is it?” He glanced toward his office door, but it was closed. “And thanks for telling everyone about the Sandy Singles event.”

  “What?” She pressed one hand to her chest in mock horror. “I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

  “Mm hm,” he said, disinterested in his mail but still looking at it like he cared. “Right. That’s why Cam texted me over the weekend.”

  “Maybe he was there.”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “How did it go?”

  Wyatt looked up and met Norma’s eye. “Never let me go to one of those again.”

  “Maybe Cam just happened to see it on your calendar,” Norma said, a smile blooming across her face. “And you know, my sister—”

  “Nope,” Wyatt said, cutting her off quickly. “I can get my own dates.” He’d told Cal Lewiston, a friend from his grief meetings, the same thing. So the Sandy Singles event hadn’t worked out. There were other ways to meet women. In fact, he had one waiting for him in his office right now.

  As if summoned by his thoughts, the office door opened, drawing his attention there. “Deirdre?” He cut a glance at Norma. “Why didn’t you say it was Deirdre?” He barely hissed the words out of the corner of his mouth as he dropped his mail back on Norma’s desk and stepped toward his office.

  Deirdre looked okay. She hadn’t been crying. But why was she here? “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

  She kept her gaze past him, clearly watching Norma. Smart, as his secretary had the hearing of an eagle. Or a deer. A dog. Whichever animal had really good hearing, that was Norma.

  He took Deirdre by the elbow and nudged her into his office. His fingers tingled though he was forty-four years old. When the door clicked closed behind him, he asked again, “What are you doing here?”

  “How was your weekend, Chief?”

  She wanted to talk about his weekend? Wyatt watched her with a wary eye, wondering what kind of game this was. The Deirdre Bernard he knew didn’t play games. “Truthfully? It was dull. Boring. The highlight was when my dog rolled in the mud and I got to hose him down.”

  Deirdre’s eyes sparkled like light blue diamonds. Like sunlight glinting off the waves he loved to watch. A laugh burst from her mouth, and she covered it with her hand. “Wow, that was the highlight?”

  “Well, I didn’t find a date on Friday night, so yes. That was the highlight. Oh, but me and the delivery guys from FoodNow are getting tight.”

  “You use FoodNow?”

  “I love FoodNow,” he said. “It’s a game-changer for me. You haven’t used it?”

  “I prefer to cook at home,” she said coolly.

  Wyatt rounded his desk and sat down, probably a dozen things on his to-do list for the day. He’d know as soon as he powered on his computer, which he made no move to do. “So, Miss Bernard. What can I do for you?”

  She cleared her throat and approached the desk, sitting in the chair opposite him. “I’m in trouble.”

  “Oh?” His eyebrows went up, but his gaze remained steady.

  “Yeah.”

  “I know you’re going to be late for work,” he said. “Is that the kind of trouble you’re talking about?”

  “No.” Those eyes positively glittered at him, and Wyatt realized with a start that she was flirting with him. Flirting. With him.

  “Is this going to be a guessing game?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “All right.” He exhaled. “You’re out of almond milk, and you don’t have time to go to the store.”

  She shook her head.

  “You got another cat.”

  “I don’t actually own any cats, I’ll have you know.”

  “Mm, interesting.” Wyatt enjoyed this conversation, but he honestly had no idea what Deirdre needed from him. “Why don’t you just tell me what kind of trouble you’re in?”

  “I’d really like some of those pork pot stickers for dinner tonight, but I hate going alone.”

  He blinked rapidly then, not caring that he’d given away his whole hand. “The pork pot stickers from Bora Bora?”

  “That would be the place.”

  “I can see why that’s a problem,” he said. “I wouldn’t call it trouble, but—semantics.” He shrugged. “The lines have gotten long there, because the secret of the pork pot sticker seems to have spread far and wide on the island.” He picked up his phone and turned it over in his hand. Over and over.

  “Yeah,” she said. “A real conundrum.”

  He swiped and tap
ped and turned the phone toward her. “We could just order from FoodNow. Thirty minutes later, we have pork pot stickers at our disposal.”

  “Wyatt Gardner, are you asking me to come over and eat dinner with you tonight?”

  Wyatt chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, no, I’m not doing that. I did that two nights ago, and I got put in my place.” Two could play her flirting game, though she was definitely better at it than he was.

  “What if I asked you to come over to my place and we could eat dinner together tonight?”

  Wyatt considered her, sure he was about to open his chest and invite her to cut out his heart. “Well, then, I guess you’ve got yourself a date. I hear those FoodNow delivery guys are mostly single.”

  Chapter Four

  Deirdre stared at Wyatt, who stared right back. “I’m not going out with one of the delivery guys,” she said evenly. “A lot of them are women.”

  Wyatt leaned back in his chair and continued to watch her. Deirdre could see the intelligence in his eyes, and it actually made her as uncomfortable as it appealed to her.

  “Okay,” she said. “I am going to be late for work.” She knocked a couple of times on his desk. “Good talk.”

  Deirdre couldn’t believe she’d waited in his office for twenty minutes to ask him out, only to have him suggest she order in and ask the delivery driver out.

  Humiliation filled her, and she thought about driving around the island to the north shore so Emma would report her for breaking the restraining order. Then she’d get arrested, and then Wyatt would have to pay attention to her.

  Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself as she approached Norma’s desk. The woman had eyes like a hawk, and she’d hooked into Deirdre the moment she’d left Wyatt’s office. “Oh, dear,” she said. “He said no, didn’t he?”

  “Kind of?” Deirdre guessed. “It’s fine, Norma. Thanks for letting me wait in his office.” She’d been tempted to look through the files on his desk or jiggle his mouse to wake up his computer. She’d minded her manners, though, and she hadn’t touched anything.