LITMIR.BIZ

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      “I’m not marrying anyone. Been there, done that.” Her flippant tone didn’t fool him. He knew how deeply she’d been hurt in the past.

      “Listen, Brit—”

      “I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon, Ryan.” She broke the connection and he stared out to sea.

      People fascinated him. The choices they made and the stories that lay behind those choices.

      He knew Brittany’s story. He wanted to know Emily’s, and he thought about it now, his mind sifting through possible scenarios as he watched the waves rolling in.

      He could have watched the ocean until the sun set, but he was needed back at the Ocean Club. They had to drain every drop out of the summer business to see them through the long Maine winter. He’d plowed all his money into the business and he was determined to make it pay, and not just because living here required him to earn money.

      The island had given to him, and now he was giving back.

      He had people depending on him.

      Driving would have saved time, but choosing to live on this island had been about saving his sanity, not saving time, so he ran instead.

      He ran down to the waterfront, past the old fisherman’s cottage where Alec was no doubt absorbed in his research, and then took a shortcut inland.

      The scent of the sea mingled with the smell of freshly mown grass and spring flowers.

      This was his favorite time of year, before the flood of summer visitors swelled the population of the island, clogging roads and spreading across the beaches in a sprawl of people and picnic baskets.

      Tourism poured welcome funds into the island’s economy, but still there were moments when he resented the intrusion. It was like having guests in your home, and even welcome guests came with an expiration date.

      Alec teased him that he couldn’t give up those links to civilization—high-speed internet, phone signal—and it was true, but that didn’t alter the fact that his choice to move here had been driven by a desire to change his life.

      He wondered what had brought Emily to this place. There had to be a reason. There was always a reason.

      She had a city look about her. Pale and pinched.

      On Puffin Island doors swung open for visitors.

      Hers had almost closed in his face.

      He took a detour to the school, ran in through the gates and pressed the buzzer. “It’s Ryan.”

      The door opened, and he strode through the cheerful foyer, past walls lined with brightly colored artwork.

      His sister bounced out of the classroom, a vision of curls and color. Her dress sense had always been eclectic, and today she’d chosen an eye-popping combination of red and purple. She claimed that color made her happy, but Ryan knew she just had a happy disposition. She saw light where others saw dark and found exciting possibilities in small, daily tasks that to others appeared boring.

      If he’d had to pick the perfect teacher for first graders, he would have picked Rachel.

      Looking at her, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t entirely screwed up her childhood.

      “Something wrong?” The concern in her eyes made him wonder when his family was going to stop worrying about him.

      He was used to being the one in the role of protector, and the reversal made him uncomfortable. Presumably this was the price he paid for frightening them to death.

      “Can’t a man drop in to say hello to his baby sister? Why does something have to be wrong?”

      “Because school starts in less than thirty minutes, you’re sweaty and you only ever come and see me when you want something or you want to lecture me.”

      “That’s harsh.”

      “It’s true. And if you call me your ‘baby sister’ again, something will be wrong.”

      He looked at those bouncy curls and remembered spending impatient minutes trying to drag a hairbrush through the tangles when she was young. On more than one occasion he’d had to choose between dealing with the hair and being late for school, so he’d given up and bunched it back in a ribbon. It was lucky for him the kids at school hadn’t known about his stock of ribbons.

      Eventually she’d learned to do it for herself, but not before he’d learned far more than he ever wanted to know about braids and bows and girls’ hair.

      “You are my baby sister. And you still look as if you should be sitting in class, not teaching it.”

      She gave him the stare she used to silence overexcited children. “Not funny, Ryan. It was even less funny when you made the same joke last week when I was on a date with Jared Peters.”

      “I wanted to shake him up a little. The guy has a reputation.”

      “That’s why I’m dating him.”

      Ryan reined in the urge to seek out Jared Peters and make sure he couldn’t walk to his next date with Rachel. “That guy is all about having a good time and nothing else.”

      “Oh, please, and you’re not?”

      “He’s too old for you.”

      “He’s the same age as you.”

      “That’s what I mean.”

      “Is there some reason I shouldn’t have a good time as well or is this a ‘man only’ thing? Last time I checked, women were allowed to have orgasms.”

      Ryan swore under his breath and ran his hand over his face. “I can’t believe you used that word in this classroom. You look so wholesome.”

      “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

      “I’m looking out for you.” For some reason an image of Emily’s anxious face was wedged in his brain. She’d looked wholesome, too. And out of her depth. “That’s my job.”

      “When I was four years old, maybe, but I’m all grown up. Your job is to let me make my own choices and live my life the way I want to live it.”

      Ryan wondered how parents did it. Wondered how they stood back and let their kids walk slap into a big mistake without trying to cushion it. “I can still step into the parent role when I need to.”

      She grinned. “Okay, Daddy.”

      “Don’t even joke about it.”

      “We both know that raising us, me in particular, was the equivalent of being injected with a lifelong contraceptive.”

      “It wasn’t that bad.” It had been exactly that bad, to the point where there had never been a time in his life when he hadn’t carried condoms. “I care about you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

      “Do you think you have a monopoly on that feeling? Do you think I enjoyed seeing you leave for all those dangerous places? It killed me, Ryan. Every time you left I wanted to beg you not to go, and then when I got that phone call—” Her voice broke. “I thought I’d lost you.”

      “Hey—” He frowned, unsettled by the emotion in her voice. “I’m still here.”

      “I know. And I love you. But you don’t get to tell me how to live my life any more than I get to tell you how to live yours. You’re my brother, not my keeper.”

      He held up his hands. “You’re right and I’m wrong. You want to date Jared, then go ahead.” But he made a mental note to have a deep and meaningful conversation with Jared next time he saw him.

      Not that he had anything against him. Jared was a skilled boat builder who was also a paramedic. Because of the rural nature of the community, most of the emergency care provision came from trained volunteers,

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