Sail Away with Me Read online

  She nodded. “I’m awkward with men.”

  “Maybe a little, but not so much when you get to know the guy.” When she raised her head, eyebrows arched, he said, “At least that’s how it seems with you and me.”

  “Yes, but that’s rare. You’re patient and kind, and for some reason I feel comfortable with you.”

  “I’m glad. I feel comfortable with you, too, on a level I don’t with most other people.”

  Her lips curved and her eyes glowed. She moistened her lips with the delicate pink tip of her tongue, an innocent yet sensual action that sent arousal thrumming through him. “You give me hope,” she said softly. “You see, I’ve always believed that when the right man comes into my life, he’ll value all aspects of my personality including my shyness.”

  The right man? Did she think—

  “No!” she said quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that I thought you were that man. I know we’re just friends. But you see me, strengths and flaws, and you accept me.”

  Relieved that she wasn’t hoping for things from him that he was incapable of giving, he said, “I accept and value you. Never settle for anything less than that, Iris.”

  “I won’t. Besides, that’s how it’s worked before.”

  “You mean with past boyfriends?” The idea of Iris sharing her gentle, sensitive soul with other guys gave him an odd pang of jealousy.

  “No, I mean that’s how it worked for my father and grandfather.” Her brow furrowed. “Not for Aunt Lily yet, but I still hope she’ll find someone to love and share her life with. Maybe next spring, when we go to Japan.”

  “You’re planning a trip? Have you been before?”

  “Yes, she and I plan to go. And no, I’ve never been. My aunt has, once. Mom’s parents have come here, and my family’s in touch with the family in Japan. It will be nice to see them in person, and see the country. But it will also be stressful for Aunt Lily and me.”

  He remembered her saying that shyness was part of her heritage, that her aunt, father, and grandfather all shared the trait. Intrigued, he leaned forward. “How did your father and grandfather meet their wives?”

  Her smile told him he’d hit on a subject she was happy to talk about. “Good things can come out of terrible situations. In the Tashme internment camp, my grandfather Harry wasn’t outgoing enough to make friends, but then a Japanese-Canadian girl, Akahana, befriended him. They became inseparable, and as they grew older they fell in love. But after the war, Akahana’s family was deported to Japan. The two teenagers wrote, keeping in touch for ten whole years.”

  Her brown eyes glowed, the romantic in her clearly loving this story. “Her family wanted her to marry a man in Japan, but she refused, saying her heart belonged to Harry. In the mid–nineteen fifties, when Grandfather Harry was twenty-five, he went to Japan. Meeting again, their love was even stronger. Her parents accepted him, and they married and she came back with him. Akahana means red rose. Wanting to fit in, my grandmother anglicized her name to Rose.”

  Julian shook his head in wonder as his muse seized on an inspiration for a song. “When I hear stories about a love that survives against horrendous odds, it’s hard to believe them. But I wonder if sometimes hardship can make people persist when otherwise they wouldn’t.”

  “You mean that if my grandparents had been typical kids who went to high school together and fell in love then, their love might not have lasted?”

  “Well, teen love often doesn’t, right?”

  “I think if it’s true love, not merely a crush, it will last. I didn’t know Luke and Candace well, but when I saw them together I sensed that even though they were each other’s first love, their love was true and would have lasted forever. Don’t you think so?”

  He felt crappy having to admit, “I’m afraid I didn’t know them that well either.” Rather than discuss his failings as a stepbrother, he said, “Tell me how your shy dad met your mom.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “It was facilitated by family. Dad almost never dated, and when he was twenty-five, my grandparents said that he and Aunt Lily, who’s three years younger, should visit Japan. The Yakimuras are loyal Canadians, but every generation has stressed the importance of our historic and cultural roots. So Dad and Aunt Lily were sent on a tour of Japan, staying with relatives and friends of the family. Dad was introduced to several hand-picked Japanese women, including my outgoing mom. Despite, or perhaps because, of their differences in personality, they fell for each other.”

  Was this what Iris’s parents had in mind for her? Julian tried to be generous enough to hope that it worked out, and Iris found the love she longed for. “Your parents married in Japan?”

  “No, he came home, but they wrote and made long-distance phone calls. Mom came to visit Destiny and to meet Dad’s parents. Everybody got along, Mom loved the island and Dreamspinner, and Mom and Dad got married.”

  “Your aunt didn’t meet a Japanese man and fall in love?”

  “No, unfortunately. She was introduced to several eligible ones, but nothing clicked. I’ve always wondered if she should have gone again, when she was twenty-five. Not that I believe in magic numbers or anything, but I have to wonder.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I turn twenty-five at the end of this year.”

  “Are you going to Japan to meet a man?”

  Her long lashes fluttered down and she said quietly, “I’m open to that possibility.”

  “If it happened, would you move to Japan?”

  “No.” She gave her head a quick shake. “I can’t imagine that. If the man was the right one, I believe he would want to move to Destiny and build his life here, with me. As happened with my mother and grandmother.”

  She was a romantic, alright. But who was he to judge? Of course he wanted Iris to find the love she deserved, and that person wasn’t him, couldn’t be someone as broken and flawed as him. He focused on another aspect of her stories. “Does your family really want to, uh, stay Japanese? I mean, not marry someone of another race?”

  “No, but none of us ever seems to meet anyone here in Canada.”

  “I guess there aren’t many eligible men on this tiny island. Unless you count tourists, and they’re probably not the greatest prospects.”

  “Some visitors do fall in love with locals and move here, as Forbes did. And Aaron’s wife, Eden. And it’s not like I’ve never left the island. I got a B.A. at the University of Victoria.”

  “Really? You weren’t anxious about going away to school?”

  They’d been eating as they talked, and now she put down her fork and sipped wine. “Oh yes. But my family’s big on education and they were persuasive.”

  “What did you study? Philosophy?” She was such a deep, thoughtful person.

  “Yes, and also English lit, French, linguistics, psychology, sociology, whatever interested me. Dad has a degree in library science, Mom’s is in accounting, and Aunt Lily’s is in business admin. They taught me everything about running the store, from when I was a kid, so it seemed silly for me to get one of those degrees.”

  “Did you enjoy university?”

  “My classes were interesting but I was uncomfortable being around all those strangers. Thank heavens my longtime best friend was my roommate.” She wrinkled her nose. “My only friend, actually. Doesn’t that sound pathetic?”

  “Well, it’s more than I had.”

  “Really? How awful, Julian.”

  “When I was little, Forbes and I were mobile, traveling for gigs, moving to different apartments when his finances got better or worse. I changed schools, missed school when we went on the road. But we were a team and I hung out with his musician friends, so it was cool. Then we moved here and—” He hunted for semi-accurate words. “Forbes had Sonia, Luke had Candace, and by then I was pretty much a loner.” He had remained one.

  “I value my alone time,” Iris said thoughtfully, “but I also value people. I’ve never had many friends, but they matter a great deal to m
e. Like Miranda and Eden now, and Shelley back in school.” Her eyes twinkled. “We were two odd ducks, Shelley and me.”

  Odd ducks. Iris occasionally used an unusual, but charming, expression. “How so?”

  “I was skinny as a reed, tall for my age, and of course looked Japanese. Shelley was short and plump, with frizzy red hair and freckles. I was the academic, reflective type and she was into movie stars and so on. But she was shy, too. We were the kids who never got invited to join others for lunch.”

  “The other kids teased you?”

  “A little. Not bullying, though. Destiny Islanders pride ourselves on our diversity and we don’t try to mold everyone into the same shape. But kids will be kids. If Shelley or I had had the spine to stand up to the teasing, we’d probably have been okay. Instead, we just hung out together as BFFs and pretended we didn’t care that we were social outcasts.”

  “Are you still good friends?”

  “Only via email and Facebook. She kind of deserted me, our last year at UVic.” She grinned. “By which I mean she found her happily ever after. She met this great guy— the first guy she ever dated, but he was wonderful—and suddenly she was spending every free moment with him. They got married right after they graduated, and now they live in Kelowna and have a baby and a golden retriever.” She gave a firm nod. “More support for my belief that there’s a man out there who’ll find me special.”

  “Iris, you are special. Any man would be damned lucky to have you in his life.” The words flew out before he thought them through. What he did register was her expression, the sudden gleam of light, of hope, in her bottomless eyes. Oh damn, did she think he meant that he was romantically interested in her?

  Damn again. He was. He wanted her. More than he could remember ever wanting anyone. But it was wrong. He reached across the table and captured her hands. “I wish that man could be me, but it can’t.”

  She shook her head quickly, midnight waves rippling around her face. “No, of course not. I never thought you’d be attracted to me, not as anything more than a friend.”

  “Iris.” He gripped her hands, needing to make her understand. “I am attracted to you. Really, really attracted, but—”

  “Seriously? You are?” There was that glint of hope again.

  “I am. But, Iris, it could never work between us.”

  Her eyes darkened, the glint dying, which plucked heartstrings he was usually only aware of when he composed and sang. “No, of course it couldn’t,” she said. “You’re a celebrity and I’m plain old me. You’re—”

  “You’re the opposite of plain. You’re lovely. I could gaze at you forever. You turn me on, but you also bring peace to my soul.” His muse registered the words and filed them away.

  “That’s . . .” She did one of those head-duck things.

  He let go of one of her hands and reached across to raise her chin. Even then, her gaze slipped downward rather than meeting his. He waited until finally her eyes lifted.

  “That’s the truth,” he said. “But it’s also the truth that even if you might be a little bit attracted to me, really you’re looking for a different kind of man.” A decent one. “One who’ll fit into your life on Destiny. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  She nodded slowly. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else, much less being part of the life you live. Travel, performances, the media, interacting with different people all the time.”

  “Things that are necessary for my career.” He released her chin and her hand, and sat back in his chair. “I do enjoy performing, with the right audience. It’s a high like nothing else. Travel has pros and cons; exploring new places is stimulating. The media, well, that’s not my favorite part of the job. Interacting with different people can be fun or not so great, but it’s often a source of song ideas.”

  Listening to him, she nodded but didn’t speak.

  “You’d rather I was just a songwriter,” he said. “A guy who hangs out at home writing music and never has to go away.”

  Her gentle features morphed into something fierce. “No, Julian. I’d never want you to be different from who you are. Of course you must perform. You have a gift to share. The travel and media and all of those things are part of the package, to bring that gift to the world.”

  “So, I like you just the way you are, and you like me just the way I am, but our two ways are incompatible. Not to mention, I don’t buy into that romantic dream of yours. I don’t see myself ever getting married and having kids.” Julian’s brain conjured an image of Luke, Miranda, and their three children, and his heart throbbed in a bass note of regret. Even if he’d been capable of trust and love, he didn’t deserve a future like that.

  “I’m so glad you like me. But yes, what you say is true. It’s important to know one’s own nature and respect it.”

  “As the Tao book says.” Reading that, Julian had reflected on his own inner nature. It consisted of opposites: a creator who brought value to the world and a coward whose failure to report Jelinek had quite probably resulted in the abuse of other boys. Julian hated the dark side, but he’d accepted his brokenness, his guilt, and learned to live with it. Thanks to the old lady in Vancouver who’d changed his life when he was fifteen, he also saw his positive side. That gave him a reason, day by day, to carry on. “If your inner nature has imperfections, do you respect those, too?” No way could he ever do that.

  “I think you must. No one is perfect, Julian.”

  “That’s the truth,” he said bitterly. But he appreciated the effort she put into trying to help him. “You’re a good friend, Iris.”

  “I’m very happy to be your friend.” When she spoke again, her voice was so soft he barely heard it. “I wish . . . there could be something more.”

  A hot rush of arousal washed away all thoughts of his flawed inner nature. “So do I,” he said fervently. “But I respect you. You’re not the kind of girl who hangs around after shows, wanting to hook up with a celebrity.” He didn’t want to insult her, so proceeded cautiously. “It sounds like you’re not, uh, very experienced.”

  She nodded. “I’ve dated one man. Six whole dates. We kissed and fooled around a little, but it was clear to both of us that it wasn’t working.”

  He swallowed. It had occurred to him, from her bashful manner and serious nature, that she might be a virgin. “So you’ve never . . .” Used to being with women who engaged in sex as casually as in a coffee date, he now found himself searching for a delicate way of phrasing his question. “Never been with a man?”

  Her lips quirked. “What a delightfully old-fashioned phrase. No, Julian, I’ve never had sex. I’m a virgin. I don’t find that fact the least bit embarrassing.”

  “Nor should you,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  Her laugh tinkled like a delicate wind-chime. “It’s alright. I know I’m an anomaly, but who wants to come from a cookie-cutter mold?”

  “No one would ever accuse you of that. You’re unique and fascinating.”

  The woman who had no trouble admitting to being a virgin now ducked her head and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “So”—he returned to his original train of thought—“you’re a virgin. And you have that big romantic dream.” A dream that no doubt included losing her virginity to the love of her life, in some deeply emotional, hearts-and-flowers scene. “A dream that I’m sure one day will come true. But you know I’m not the man for that dream.”

  Her gaze was on his face again. “I do know. Julian, I may have a romantic dream, but I’m also an intelligent, realistic woman. I have no foolish illusions about our relationship.”

  Reassured, yet for some inexplicable reason a little disappointed, too, he said, “Good.”

  “So, given that, I wonder if we might, well . . .” She swallowed and her cheeks took on a pink tinge. “Take things slowly, but, well, let our relationship evolve in ways other than just, um, verbal communication?” Now her cheeks were rosy.

  His body heated again.
“You mean in physical ways? Intimate ways?” Just how far, moving slowly, might she want things to evolve? There were many, many things a couple could do, short of actual intercourse.

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I feel so forward, even thinking this, much less suggesting it.”

  “Are you really such an old-fashioned woman?”

  “No!” Her hands dropped and her eyes sparked. “I’m a feminist. Yes, I believe in respecting my elders, obeying the law, and treating people with politeness, but those aren’t old-fashioned values. They’re solid ones. I also believe in equal rights for everyone and I don’t think it should always be up to the man to initiate a relationship.”

  Her uncharacteristic tirade made him grin. “Good.”

  “It’s not being old-fashioned,” she insisted, “it’s my intrinsic shyness. Something that I’m overcoming quite a lot, with you. You’re good for me, Julian.”

  He was flattered. Honored, to use one of Iris’s words. “You’re good for me, too. And yes, I would love to . . .” She had invited him to move past words to action, so he stopped talking and captured her hand. He explored it with his own, sliding his bigger fingers between her slim ones, running guitar-callused fingertips across her palm, circling her fine-boned wrist and coming to rest there, where he couldn’t tell if it was her pulse or his own that vibrated prestissimo—almost as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

  Still holding her hand, he rose and came around the tiny table to draw her to her feet. He took her other hand, held both sets of clasped hands down at their sides, and stepped toward her.

  She gazed up at him, her brown eyes alive with curiosity and heat.

  Chapter Eight

  Oh my gosh, is he going to kiss me? Julian stopped moving when their clothing brushed lightly. If she was the modern woman she professed to be, she could seize the initiative. Uncertainty held Iris back.

  She’d been kissed before, but only by two guys. Once was in high school on prom night. The school wanted everyone in the small graduating class to attend, and the kids who hadn’t already chosen dates were paired up by random draw. Iris had been relieved to be matched with a science nerd who was as reclusive as she. Still, at the end of the evening, he had kissed her. Likely he’d been curious, or thought it more or less obligatory. It had been a sloppy, cringe-worthy kiss, and the next week at school they’d gone back to not talking to each other.