Page 3 of Tormented Bastard
The chipper rental clerk put my teeth on edge but got me on my way soon enough. Business Eden was delighted with the efficiency. Eden, the woman full of doubts, was pissed things were moving so smoothly. It left me anxious and wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.
Even the traffic was light in the city, and before I knew it, the bridge to Sandy Seas Island came into view. I blew out a breath and tightened my hands on the wheel.
“You can do this, Mitchell. You’re a professional. You’re no longer a college girl in awe of the college baseball star. Or a friend to a man who doesn’t want you.”
Right. If I could convince myself of that, I had some swamp land in Egypt I’d sell you.
I straightened my spine and blew out a breath. I was here strictly for business. I wasn’t here to become friends with Chase again. I wasn’t here to see if he was okay. I wasn’t here to comfort him in a way that left me full of shame and guilt the next morning.
I wasn’t repeating that mistake again.
Bright blue skies stretched out to the horizon. If I rolled down the window, the briny sea air would fill the cabin of the large SUV. But the only way to survive the short amount of time I’d be here was to block out all the memories that threatened to break free and torment me. Including my love for the ocean. If I lost sight of the goal, I’d be screwed.
The bridge gave way to a two lane road that split two smaller bodies of water. Parking lots made of sand and gravel dotted the sides for people to pull off and fish or just to sit and contemplate life by the water. A couple of miles in, the wide lanes narrowed, and I took my foot off the gas. Smaller cottages dotted the landscape around me, as well as an older, but well maintained beach-style gas station next to The Island Bar & Grill.
There wasn’t much need for the stoplight I sat at since I was the only car in the intersection at the moment. I looked around, but the only other cars were the two in the gas station parking lot. When it turned green, I eased forward and passed a cheery sign that looked freshly painted welcoming me to Sandy Seas Island. As I drove slowly through the downtown, Main Street area, I didn’t want to notice the old Florida charm of the small town that I had loved the decade or so ago when Chase and I were early twentysomethings and carefree. I didn’t want to see that while the little town embraced the vintage style, there was also a shine to it that looked like they’d put some time and money into the buildings and roads around the town.
I sighed in relief when a coffee shop came into view. My coffee buzz had worn off hours ago, and I needed a pick-me-up to feel human before I faced Chase. If in fact he was on the island. This could very well be a wild goose chase.
I parked in a public parking lot next to the row of buildings that housed the coffee shop and stepped out into a wall of humidity. I’d forgotten how humid Florida could be even in September. It felt like I’d taken a shower and put my clothes on without drying off. I grabbed my purse and quickly made my way to what was sure to be air-conditioned, caffeinated heaven.
Inside, the rich aroma of java packed the punch I needed. Judging by the line, it looked like the whole town was looking for their caffeine fix. I shifted my stance and did my best not to sigh and push along the woman at the counter telling the barista that her granddaughter had finally graduated from the bottle to a sippy cup.
“It’s a whole different pace around here, love,” a deep voice said near my ear.
Startled, I turned around and found myself gazing at a man who looked like he belonged in an underwear ad in Times Square. Good-looking men were a dime a dozen in New York, so I should’ve been immune. But this guy? He’d make any girl look twice.
And he had an Australian accent.
“I’m sorry, what?”
He tilted his head. “You’re not from here. So I was just letting you know why Ms. Odette up there”—he nodded with his chiseled chin—“is telling Becky all about the new baby.”
“Ah, yes. Well, thanks.”
He squinted his eyes at me. “City girl, I’d say. No?”
“Yes, New York.”
He nodded. “I could tell. You have the same look my Aubrey did when we first met. She had that whole city girl, blouse and skirt uniform, lawyer thing about her.”
Well, of course he was taken. Not that I really cared. I wasn’t here looking for a man. I was here to save my business.
Besides, he was hot but not my type. I evidently had it bad for dark-haired, green-eyed brooding guys. Hence, one of the reasons I stood here, if I was being totally honest with myself.
I looked down at my clothing and then glanced around me. I couldn’t have looked more out of place if I’d run through the coffee shop with my hair on fire.
Between that visual and his accent—“Aubrey” sounded like “Ah-bree”— I couldn’t help the smile that touched my lips.
“Hey, there’s a smile.” He held out a hand. “Chance Bateman.”
I shook his hand. “Eden Mitchell.”
We inched closer to the front, and someone called out a hello to Chance.
“So what brings you to the island, Eden? I gotta tell you, mate. It’s kinda lousy timing on your part. We got a storm coming in.”
“I plan to be out of here by tomorrow. Sooner, if I can find a friend of mine.”
