Page 18 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
There’s not a smidgen of irritation in Van’s voice. If anything, there’s a touch of pride. I shift my shoulders to dissipate the bloom of warmth slipping down my spine, frustrated with myself.
“That’s Geneva in a nutshell—punch first, investigate later. But honestly”—by the way Noah says that one word, I can tell he’s going to get all mushy—“you’ll never meet a more loyal, protecti—”
“Why on earth are you two making so much noise this early?” I interrupt, stepping barefoot into the kitchen.
They’re huddled around my ancient coffee maker, early morning light bending around them in an almost cheerful way—like it, too, wants in on the gossip. Noah is still wearing his uniform. I guess he decided to pop by after his 24-hour shift ended. Van has on blue scrub pants and a threadbare t-shirt, rumpled from sleep. Can’t a doctor afford something that doesn’t have tiny, distracting holes across the collarbones?
Though…I suppose it could be worse. He could be shirtless. The memory of what it felt like being pressed against his sun-warmed skin inundates me before I can force it away.
Van’s smile vanishes as he looks at Noah. “You said she was an early riser.”
My half-brother brings his mug to his wicked lips. “Sorry, man. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. I mess with my sister any chance I can get.”
“Half-sister,” I amend, needing to gain some ground.
Noah rolls his eyes so dramatically he might as well be on a reality TV show. “Will you cut that out? We’re siblings, plain and simple.”
I make an irritated sound in my throat but don’t argue. That is, until I see the empty container on the counter between them.
“And you ate all my pineapple?”
“Not all of it. There’s one piece left.” Noah picks up the remaining piece, extending it toward me only to pop it in his mouth.
My hands fist as I bare my teeth. It iswaytoo early for his nonsense.
“It’s okay. I’ll get more pineapple at the market when it opens,” Van offers.
“Dotty’s doesn’t carry pineapple, except for the one she orders and sets aside for Geneva each week,” Noah says, eyes trained on me.
He’s clearly trying to punish me for blindsiding him with Van’s existence yesterday. Well, join the club, buddy. I’m thrown off kilter as well.
“That’s fine,” Van says, his gaze bouncing between the two of us like a referee wondering if a brawl will break out. “I’ll drive into town and get one.”
“You’ll drive to the mainland,” Noah corrects, breaking our stare-down to direct his attention at Van. “If you’re going to bean official islander, you’ll need to use our lingo. That is, if this marriage isn’t a complete sham.”
I sigh, pushing between them to fill a mug with coffee. I’m halfway through when Van murmurs in my ear, nearly causing me to drop the glass carafe.
“Do you mind if I explain?”
I don’t glance right, don’t dare see the exact hue of gray his eyes are in the morning light. It’s also too early for his silky voice, for his warm, steady presence.
I give my steaming mug a tight nod, letting my feet carry me to the far countertop as Van explains our situation. Noah tries to give me judgy looks but caves when Van explains his sister’s sudden passing and Joanna’s response to the news.
He runs a hand through his curls. “Okay. I get it. But if this is temporary, you can’t get Mom’s hopes up.”
“I know,” I say, leaning my hip on the counter and placing my foot on the inside of my other calf. “We’ll need to let her down gently. I don’t think anyone will expect us to be out and about much now that we’re supposed to be newlyweds, and when we’re around town later, we can projecttrouble in paradisevibes. Maybe a small argument here, distant body language there.”
Noah guffaws. “Geneva, you didn’t touch him once last night, and that was supposed to be a wedding celebration.”
I release a slow exhale. “Everyone knows I’m not…expressive. I don’t think it was strange.”
“Itwasstrange. In fact, the over/under at Seabreeze Beans this morning is that he won’t last the month.” Noah tilts his chin toward Van.
I bristle, though I should be ecstatic hearing this news. Everyone else in this town sees me as I truly am—an unlovable grump. Them betting against me makes rational sense. So why does it feel like something sharp is lodged in my throat?
“You went to the coffee shop before coming here? I suppose that brushoff last night wasn’t satisfying enough?” I lift my eyebrows innocently as Noah visibly stiffens.
A small voice inside tells me to stop here, but my words are already locked and ready. So I do the only thing I can think of when I’m backed into a corner—I lash out.
