The Boy is Back in Town Read online

  There was nothing else to explain it.

  The man-boy she had last seen ten years ago looking back at her from the backseat of his father’s car as they drove out of Swanhaven, leaving her behind, clinging to the wreckage of her life, was blocking her way back into town. Mari sucked in oxygen to feed her racing brain and the frantic pulsing of blood.

  This must be what it felt like to have a heart attack.

  The last person on the planet she had expected to see again was dressed in chinos and a pale blue shirt, under a luxurious all-weather jacket the colour of the smoothest latte.

  Ethan Chandler. International Yachtsman of the Year. The boy whose family had rented the house next to her home each summer holiday and in the process became part of Swanhaven and the star of the sailing club for a few weeks and her home town’s only true claim for a celebrity. The village shop even sold bottles of the delectable designer aftershave he’d promoted a few years earlier.

  The stylist who had chosen his shirt had done an excellent job and that particular shade of blue was a perfect match for the colour of his eyes, even in the grey February light which took the edge off a suntan cultivated under the Florida sunshine.

  At the age of seventeen Ethan Chandler had been the best-looking boy in town. A natural athlete and champion yachtsman destined for greatness. Ethan at twenty-eight was a revelation. Of course she had seen his photo on TV and on the cover of magazines, clean and polished and with all of his rough edges smoothed out to create the perfect image. Male-model handsome, rugged and broad-shouldered.

  But there was a world of difference between seeing Ethan standing behind the wheel of an ocean-going yacht, or modelling board shorts on the cover of a sailing magazine, and having the man himself standing so close that she could see the stubble on his cheek on the side of his face.

  Ethan had always had that cocky and easy confidence in his own charm—but this was taking it to a completely new level. Six feet of broad-shouldered, tousle-haired hunk could do that to a girl.

  The blood rushing to her cheeks and neck was so embarrassing. And Marigold Chance did not blush. Ever.

  And then, almost as if he knew that someone was watching him, Ethan stopped walking, paused, and started to turn around to look in her direction.

  Instantly, without thinking about what she was doing or hesitating more than a split second, Mari pulled the hood of her coat high over her head and whirled on one heel so quickly that she was walking back the way she had come along the beach path before her hands were back by her sides, punching the air with each step.

  Determined to get as far away from Ethan Chandler as possible.

  Grains of sand flew up beneath her feet as she strode forward, too terrified to look back just in case Ethan had recognised the crazy woman power walking along the beach. Her head was spinning with a confusion of thoughts and feelings. Some deep part of her was secretly hoping that he had seen her, and he was even now running to catch up with her, ready to calm her nerves and tell her that he’d never meant to hurt her feelings all those years ago when they had kissed and he had walked away without a single word of goodbye.

  But that would mean that he had cared about her back then. And still did. This was impossible.

  No. Ethan was always destined to be her brother’s unobtainable best friend and the boy who’d survived the accident when Kit had not.

  Her feet slowed but her heart was pounding inside her chest and she felt the blood flare in her face despite the icy-cold wind from the sea. A few more steps and she would be around the corner of the bay and out of sight from Swanhaven marina. And Ethan would not be able to see her tears.

  Mari’s left hand pressed against the damp cliff wall.

  After all these years, she had fooled herself into thinking that she had finally come to terms with Kit’s death.

  Idiot.

  All it took was one sight of Ethan—not even a word—just seeing him again, and she was right back to being sixteen again and those terrible few months after the accident when all she wanted to do was be alone. Grieving, scared, frozen and numb and so very alone. Trapped inside her thoughts, withdrawn and traumatised.

  Only one person had been able to challenge her enough to break through the prison doors of her anguish and that person was Ethan. He had done something no one had ever done. He had kept challenging, kept on asking her forgiveness, kept on forcing her to engage with him, until her self-imposed barriers had finally broken down. And for one hour of one day she had clung to Ethan like a drowning girl with every single emotion raw and open and exposed for him to see. This was the boy who had made her brother go out in a race he was not ready for. This was the boy who had teased her and ridiculed her every summer holiday. This was the boy she had secretly had a crush on, but said nothing. Because he was so perfect, so admirable and so very, very unobtainable.

  And in that moment when she had been most vulnerable, he had kissed her. And she had kissed him back. And she might have been sixteen, and this was her first kiss, but she knew that he meant it.

  And it had destroyed her.

  The guilt of kissing and wanting Ethan after he had brought about her family’s ruin had been too much for her to bear. She had felt so weak and angry and disgusted with herself.

  When he’d left town the following day, without even saying goodbye, she knew that she had deluded herself into thinking that Ethan could ever care about her. She wasn’t even worth taking the time to speak to.

  Mari closed her eyes and took a couple of long breaths. She was twenty-six years old, a trained IT professional and an adult who was used to handling computer crises. Ethan was probably only passing through with his parents. She could cope with seeing him again over the next few days before she went back to work. It was all going to be fine. Just fine.

  Only at the exact same moment she allowed herself to breathe normally, there was the sound of footsteps on the cobblestones and sand and, as she turned her head sideways, Ethan Chandler jogged around the corner.

  He tried to slide to a halt on the uneven path, arms flailing at the same time as Mari pushed herself back against the wall.

  So the only thing he had to grab hold of to stop himself from falling … was her.

  Seconds later, Mari’s brain connected to the fact that Ethan Chandler was holding her by both arms, pressing her against his jacket, and she looked up into the blue eyes of the boy who had broken her heart. Words were impossible. Mari inhaled a heady mix of aromatic spices, leather and freshly laundered linen as her own hand moved instinctively to press against the soft fabric and feel the warmth of the man beneath.

  ‘Hello, Mari. Are you okay there? I wondered if it was you.’ Ethan flicked his head back towards the shore. ‘I only caught a glimpse so I couldn’t be sure but … wow … I had no idea you were back in town. I … er …’ he broke off as their eyes locked; it was only for a second but she knew that he had recognised the total confusion and disbelief and anger that was whirling around inside her head at seeing him again ‘… wasn’t expecting to see you.’

  His iron grip relaxed on the sleeve of her jacket and she almost fell back onto the rocks.

  ‘Ethan,’ she whispered, her voice hoarse and pathetic, ‘I didn’t know that you were around.’

  She swallowed down an ocean of nerves into a bone-dry throat, looking for something to say to break the silence. ‘That was quite a performance. I thought you were in trouble out there,’ and she gestured to the waves breaking over the harbour wall.

  ‘Trouble?’ He coughed nervously and stepped back. ‘No, I wasn’t in trouble. I suppose it is a bit blowy.’

  Mari blinked a few times and shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘Blowy? Right. I hope you know that you scared the living daylights out of me just now. How do you do it? How do you get into that boat and go out on the water in weather like this? I simply don’t understand it.’

  His reply was a twitch at the side of his mouth which told her more than a lengthy answ
er. Oh, yes. She had been right. The boy who had become the man was still as annoyingly arrogant and self-confident that it shone out of him like a beacon to all those around him who were still trying to find their way in the dark. And straight away she was back to being the plump, geeky girl who was the constant target of his incessant teasing.

  It was so aggravating she could scream.

  She was different now. She could handle this man who had become a star. They had both been so young the last time they spoke—teenagers trying to find their place in the world.

  So how was it that the last time she had felt like strangling someone as badly as she did now, her client had just uploaded a virus onto the brand-new server she had just installed?

  Ethan took it to the next level.

  Grinding her teeth together in frustration, Mari pressed her fingers into her palms and slowly closed her eyes, then opened them while her blood pressure calmed.

  ‘I’ve got used to bad weather over the past few years, and Swanhaven bay is positively calm compared to the seas in the Southern Ocean. But I’m sorry if I scared you.’

  And with all of the extra confidence and self-assurance that ten years of a life spent in the spotlight and hero worship could bring, Ethan took one step closer and casually slid his left hand up and down the sleeve of her padded coat. ‘Are you okay now?’

  And it annoyed her so much that it sucked any chance of logical thought out of her mind, rendering her speechless. A blinking, wide-eyed creature. Just as she had been all those years ago when she’d hero-worshipped him from afar and he’d ignored her for most of the time and teased her the rest.

  ‘You’ve changed your hair,’ Ethan said softly, his sea-blue eyes focused on her face. He grinned the kind of white smile that would make toothpaste companies queue up to arrange sponsorship deals. ‘Looks great.’

  Yes, this makes my day, she thought, and found something interesting to look at on her gloves. How dare he look even better with a few years on him? When she felt positively shop-worn and decrepit? And her hair had been squeezed under a hat for ages and must look a total mess. For a moment she couldn’t think or move. Nor trust herself to look at him again, never mind talk to him in joined up sentences.

  Why did he still have this effect on her? Why? He had always had the confidence, the natural charm of the handsome, gifted people who had sailed through life on a warm breeze. And knew it. Nothing had changed in that direction.

  ‘Thank you.’ Mari cleared her throat, lifted her chin a little higher and tried to ignore her pounding heart, while forcing her mouth and head to reconnect long enough to say something intelligent when they had zero in common. ‘It’s been a while.’

  ‘I was sorry to hear that your mother passed away. She was a remarkable woman,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I was racing solo in the Southern Ocean when it happened or I would have been there. You should know that.’

  ‘Of course,’ Mari said, desperate to take control, and managed a closed-mouth smile. ‘Did you know that Rosa is still in Swanhaven these days?’ She shook her head in amazement. ‘She loves being here so much. So at least one of us is still in the old town.’

  Before he had a chance to answer, Mari made a point of pulling her scarf tighter so that she wouldn’t have to look into those blue eyes. She was a mature woman. She could do polite to a visiting celebrity who used to be close to her family. ‘What brings you here on a Friday morning in February? I thought you lived in Florida.’

  ‘I do, but for some reason my mother has decided that she wants to retire back home in Swanhaven. So I’ve been building them a retirement place in the next bay,’ Ethan said with the husky tone in his voice that made her very glad that she was leaning against the jetty because her knees had suddenly decided to take on the consistency of blobs of jelly. ‘Dad and I designed it together but I’m here to finish the house before they move in next week.’

  He was going to stay in Swanhaven for a whole week? No, no, no. How could this be happening?

  Mari whipped back towards him, blinking in astonishment, and managed to link enough words together to create a sentence. ‘Are you moving back here with them full-time?’

  Then he smiled with his own unique, closed lips, one-side-of-his-mouth special smile. ‘That would be a no. I have a life back in Florida, thanks all the same. But I’ll be around for a few weeks. Things to do. Some business to take care of. Then there is the Sailing Club.’

  She swallowed hard and tried to come up with something to say but was saved when the icy wind sent another shiver across her shoulders.

  ‘Well, good luck with that. But right now I’m freezing and I promised Rosa that I wouldn’t be out long. It was nice seeing you again, Ethan. Maybe we can catch up another time?’

  When Swanhaven harbour freezes over.

  He turned away and started strolling away from her towards the cliff path which led towards her old home and smiled back at her over one shoulder, one eyebrow raised as he gestured towards the path.

  ‘Looks like I just got lucky. If you’re heading home I’d love to catch up with Rosa again. With a bit of luck she might find me a dry crust or two to nibble on, since I’m starving. Would that be okay?’

  And then he started up the cliff path, away from Swanhaven, and straight for her former home. The home which was now up for sale. The home she was going to buy back.

  He carried on walking and it took a second for her brain to process what he was doing.

  He didn’t know. Ethan had no clue that they had lost their home when her father left the family. But she was not going to tell him the whole bitter saga. He would soon find out for himself if he stayed around—and preferably when she had gone back to work. Rosa would tell him.

  Oh, Ethan. There have been a lot of changes since the last time we spoke.

  Instinctively Mari took one step forward, then stopped and called out in a loud voice, ‘Sorry, Ethan, you’re going the wrong way. Rosa lives in the town these days. And I hear the harbour café does a great range of snacks.’

  He stopped and turned back to face her, the wind ruffling his hair into a set designer’s dream of rugged and his eyebrows came together in a puzzled look. ‘You sold the house? I thought your mother loved that place?’

  Her breath caught in her throat as it tightened in pain. Get it over with, she told herself. Just tell him and you won’t have to explain yourself again.

  She looked up at Ethan, who was standing, tall and proud and so bursting with life and vitality and all she could think about was that Kit should be standing there. Her lovely, wild, adventurous brother who loved to break the rules. She had lived her early life in Kit’s shadow, but she would have given anything to see him smiling back at her at that moment. Alive and well and so full of energy and potential.

  Instead of which, she saw Ethan Chandler. Kit’s best friend. The boy who was sailing the boat on the morning Kit went over the side and died. And it broke her heart. Worse. It broke through the veneer of suppressed anger which she had kept hidden.

  ‘Yes, she did. Don’t you know? We lost the house when my dad had his breakdown and his building firm closed down owing thousands of pounds. We haven’t lived there since the summer you left. The summer Kit died. The summer we lost everything. Goodbye for now, Ethan. See you later.’

  And she turned away from this god-handsome man who she had idolised as a girl and walked as fast as she could in the biting wind, back to Swanhaven and the world she had created for herself when everything around her was crumbled and destroyed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘HOW about this one?’ Mari asked as she tapped Rosa on the arm, then pointed at the laptop screen. ‘“Looking for a grumpy old man to nag? Try Hire a Haggard. Smart men aged sixty-plus. Guaranteed to last a good couple of hours if fed and watered. Dancing and friskiness at your own risk.”’