Page 5 of When Summer Returns

The simple question—the fact that he remembered such a minor detail after all this time—threatened her composure more than his anger had.

“Yes,” she managed. “Thank you.”

He slid the mug toward her. “I have a spare room. You can stay until you sort out something more permanent.”

Jessie nearly choked on her first sip. “That’s not necessary.”

“It’s practical,” he corrected. “You’re half owner of this place now, which means early mornings and late nights. Makes sense to be close.”

She studied him over the rim of her mug, trying to gauge his motivation. “Just like that? You’re inviting me to stay after making it abundantly clear how you feel about my return?”

“How I feel is irrelevant.” His mask of indifference slipped into place again. “We’re business partners now, through no choice of mine. Putting you up is simply good business sense.”

Business partners. The term felt simultaneously too formal and far too intimate. Jessie had never intended to actually run the bar. She’d planned to sell her share back to Luke and return to her carefully constructed life in Savannah, where no one knew her history or questioned her scars.

But she hadn’t expected the jolt of recognition she’d felt stepping onto the island again. The sense of homecoming that ambushed her despite everything that had happened here. And most of all, she hadn’t expected the unresolved emotions that surfaced at the sight of Luke Mallory.

“If you’re concerned about appearances,” he continued when she remained silent, “don’t be. The island gossips have long since found other subjects to occupy them.”

“I couldn’t care less about gossip.”

“Good. Because they’ll talk regardless.” A grim smile touched his lips. “Jessie James returns from the dead to claim her inheritance. It’s the most excitement Seeker’s Island has seen since old Davidson’s fishing boat washed up with him sleeping off a bender in the hull.”

Despite herself, Jessie smiled. Some things about island life remained unchanged.

“I won’t be staying long,” she said, though the assertion felt less certain than it had hours earlier. “Just until I sort out the legal aspects and find a buyer for my share.”

Luke’s expression hardened. “I’m the buyer.”

“We’ll see.” She wasn’t about to surrender her only leverage, not when she’d only begun to understand what she’d inherited—what her father had inexplicably bestowed upon her after years of silence.

The storm howled outside, rain lashing against the windows with renewed fury. Whatever came next, she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight.

“Show me this room, then,” she said, draining the last of her coffee. “I need to dry off and change before I catch pneumonia.”

Luke nodded shortly, setting his half-finished coffee aside. “Follow me. I should probably grab a shirt first, then we’ll need to brave the weather briefly to reach the house.”

“House?” She’d assumed there were living quarters attached to the restaurant.

“I live about fifty yards up the beach. Nothing fancy, but it’s home.”

Home.The word produced a hollow ache beneath Jessie’s ribs. She’d spent fifteen years searching for that elusive feeling, never quite finding it in the series of apartments and condos she’d inhabited. She’d convinced herself it didn’t matter—that home was a luxury she could live without.

She followed Luke through the kitchen to a side door, where he retrieved a large umbrella from a stand. The practical part of her noted that he came prepared for all contingencies. The less rational part focused on the inevitable proximity sharing an umbrella would require.

“Ready?” he asked, hand on the doorknob.

Jessie nodded, steeling herself for both the storm and the dangerous territory they were about to enter. Not just his house, but the uncharted space of their shared past—a history neither had fully reckoned with.

“Stay close,” he instructed as he opened the door, the wind immediately threatening to tear the umbrella from his grasp. “The path can be treacherous when flooded.”

She stepped beside him, close enough to catch the scent of salt and coffee on his skin. His arm came around her shoulders to secure her beneath the umbrella’s protection, and Jessie forced herself not to tense at the contact.

This arrangement was temporary. A business matter, nothing more. She would sell her share, make peace with the past, and return to the life she’d built far from Seeker’s Island. Far from the only man who’d ever seen past her carefully constructed defenses.

As they stepped into the raging storm, Jessie couldn’t help but wonder if returning had been a mistake after all. Or if, perhaps, it was fifteen years overdue.

CHAPTERTHREE

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