Sail Away with Me Read online

  Liking that she was comfortable enough with him to tease, he said, “It’s definitely her. I’m twenty-seven. And you have a birthday soon?”

  “Can you believe, New Year’s Eve? My parents hoped I’d be the first baby born in the New Year, but, for probably the only time in my life, I was impatient to make my entrance.”

  “That must be almost as bad as being born on Christmas Day.”

  “Our family celebrates the New Year on January first, and I get New Year’s Eve for my own. We go out for dinner to C-Shell. I suppose New Year’s Eve is a lot more exciting in your musician’s world.”

  “Usually we’re performing. This year there’s a gig in Vancouver at the Commodore.”

  “Oh.” That quiet sound was barely audible above the gentle percussion of rain on the roof, yet it seemed to hang in the air for a long moment. Then Iris said, “Will Forbes be well enough by then so that he and Sonia won’t need you?”

  “I sure hope so. He’s making progress, but it’s slow. Painful. He’s still determined to play at Luke and Miranda’s wedding. I’ll hang around for the wedding, of course, then get back to Vancouver for the gig. And to start working with the band to fine-tune the new songs I’m writing. We’re scheduled to record the new album at the end of January, and in February we’re touring in Australia.”

  She nodded, her hair brushing his chin. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back to your normal life.”

  “Yeah, kind of.” Music was his life, and he hated even breathing the same air as Bart Jelinek. Yet he enjoyed spending long hours with his dad and getting to know Sonia better, as well as Luke, Miranda, and the kids. And he loved being with Iris. “But I’ll miss you.”

  Again she nodded. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  They were quiet for a bit, gazing out the windshield even though there was nothing to see but the steady rain, a hazy gold in the light cast by the parking lights. “There was a song we’d just got started on,” he murmured. “It could use a second verse.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  He slid his hand up under that raven waterfall of hair and fanned his fingers to cradle the back of her head. She leaned forward with no urging, her lips parting. He kissed her, molding his lips to hers, marveling that anything could feel so soft, warm, and welcoming.

  Often when he’d had sex, it had been with a fan, a woman who was excited to hook up with a musician, who was eager, even aggressive. It wasn’t about him as a person, because he hadn’t let people know much about him, just the filtered information he provided to the media and on social media.

  Iris made no bones about being a fan, but she also cared about him. About the man, not just the performer. As he explored and savored her sweet, giving mouth, it dawned on him that in the entire world, this was the person who knew him best. Oh, she didn’t know the details of his childhood as his dad did, nor the experiences of his musician life—she certainly didn’t know how flawed he was—but he’d revealed more of his true self to her than to anyone.

  Would he even have survived being here on Destiny if Iris hadn’t been here for him?

  He poured his gratitude and his affection into her through his lips and tongue, conveyed it in the brush of his fingertips against her cheek and the delicate shell of her ear. She was so perfect, in so many ways.

  Arousal licked through his veins, stole his breath, swelled his cock. His response to her was bittersweet, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted another woman yet knowing he should never make love with her. Her perfection deserved a man who was special, a man who would fulfill her happy, secure, island-based romantic dream, not a shameful coward.

  Our song. That was what they were creating now, line by line, with both of them knowing that the song would end in sadness when they had to part ways.

  Mostly, he wrote sad songs, poignant ones about loss, fear, guilt. Rarely did they have a “and then the sun came out and everything was wonderful” ending. What he conveyed was reality, that the best you could hope for was coming to terms with your sorrows and achieving a certain peace. Iris knew that. She knew his music and she knew the inevitability of their parting. Didn’t she? He rested his hands on her shoulders and eased her away from him.

  Even in the dim light, he could see she looked dazed. But she blinked those long lashes and then smiled. “A lovely verse. Does it have to end now?”

  Hating to break the mood, he said, “I need to be sure. Sure you don’t want more from me than I can give.”

  Under his hands, her shoulders straightened. “I think you have a lot to give, Julian. But if you mean, am I envisioning a romance-novel ending, no, definitely not. I’m practical and I know our lives could never mesh. But I believe in mindfulness, in fully enjoying the present.”

  “You mean without considering the future?” That didn’t sound practical.

  “With an awareness of it, but without letting it spoil the present.” She tilted her head, studying him. “In fact, that awareness can make the present even sweeter.”

  “It can?”

  “Like when my grandmother had ALS. We knew her health would deteriorate and eventually she would die. That knowledge turned every moment together into a blessing to be enjoyed to the fullest.”

  He shook his head wonderingly. “How did you get to be so wise? The things you say make so much sense, yet most people don’t think the way you do.”

  She shrugged. “I like my way. I can throw myself into enjoying each verse, each line, each word of our song as we create it together, and not agonize over the fact that, after the end of the year, I may never see you again.”

  “No.” The word jumped from his lips. “I don’t accept that we won’t see each other again.” It was inconceivable to not have Iris in his life. Feeling almost desperate, he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “We’ll stay friends, Iris. Please say we will.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips trembled into a smile. “I’d like that. I feel as if we’re growing close, and I’d hate to lose that.”

  “So we’ll email, Skype, whatever, and when I visit the island, we’ll see each other.”

  “Yes,” she said, the simple word calming his anxiety.

  He released his tight grip and stroked his hands down her back. “I think I may be visiting Destiny more often. There are more incentives now. You, of course. But also I have a stronger connection to my family.”

  These weeks had taught him that he could survive for more than a couple of days on Destiny. He wouldn’t let his own guilt over Jelinek prevent him from spending more time with the people he cared about. It was progress of a sort.

  And with that in mind, he said, “Shall we compose a third verse?”

  Chapter Ten

  The next Tuesday, Iris was in the office at Dreamspinner, doing a final proofread of their Christmas sale flyer, when her mom popped her head through the doorway. “Eden and Miranda are here, hoping you’re free for lunch.”

  That was no big surprise. Since Friday’s dinner, Iris had been expecting at least phone calls from her friends. It seemed they had chosen to conduct the “debriefing” in person. “Is that alright? I can finish proofreading after.”

  “Of course. Have fun.” Her mother’s answer was no surprise either. Akemi Yakimura loved seeing her daughter socialize.

  Iris collected her tan leather jacket from the small closet and went to find her friends, who were perusing the holiday display of coffee-table books. Eden, a lawyer who worked at a seniors’ residential facility, wore a tailored pantsuit in a shade of olive green that went nicely with her walnut hair. Miranda, a blue-eyed blonde who worked at Blowing Bubbles, the children’s store in the village, was clad in jeans, a blue cotton turtleneck, and a rain jacket that had seen better days. Iris knew she bought most of her clothes at thrift shops. Even though Miranda had received an advance on an inheritance, her spending habits remained frugal.

  After Iris’s old BFF, Shelley, married and moved to Kelowna, she’d missed having a close friend to ge
t together with. Then Eden and Miranda had arrived on Destiny. Iris felt grateful to have both of them in her life. Even if today’s lunch conversation might be more personal than she was comfortable with. “You decided to kill one bird with two stones?” she joked.

  “We’re being efficient.” Eden’s amber eyes twinkled. “You know I value efficiency.”

  The lawyer was not only smart but organized, focused, and persistent. She was also warmhearted and would do anything for family or friends. Miranda was more spontaneous, but an equally kind, generous person.

  “Did you drive in from Arbutus Lodge just to interrogate me?” Iris asked Eden.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” The twinkle was still there. “I had other business in the village.”

  “Which she deliberately arranged”—Miranda elbowed Eden—“to give her an excuse to have lunch with us.”

  It warmed Iris’s heart to see the two of them getting along so well. Initially, Miranda had resented her brother’s girlfriend, and feared Aaron might move to Ottawa to be with her. But since Eden and her family had instead moved to Destiny, the women were becoming true sisters.

  “Well, perhaps,” Eden admitted. “So let’s celebrate and go to C-Shell. My treat.”

  “Yes to C-Shell,” Miranda said. “No to you footing the bill. I actually do have money now, remember?”

  “Then you can pay next time,” Eden said.

  “And I’ll pay the time after that,” Iris put in.

  C-Shell, operated by Rachelle, a native Destiny Islander, and her wife, Celia, a talented chef, not only had the best food in town but was right on Blue Moon Harbor, with a spectacular view. Conveniently, it was only half a block from Dreamspinner. Not that anything in the village proper was more than three blocks away.

  It was brisk out, so they walked quickly, their footsteps matching the rhythm of the cheerful Celtic fiddle music that drifted down the street. Colm, a twenty-something local man, was hanging out in a store doorway, playing. He was talented, and a sizable pile of coins always collected in his instrument case. Iris had to wonder whether, if he hadn’t had mental health challenges and had to live with his parents, he might have followed a career path like that of Andi, Julian’s bandmate.

  The rustically attractive shake front of C-Shell beckoned, and Iris and her friends went inside. Rachelle, who’d been a few years ahead of Iris at school, greeted them warmly. She was stunning, her beautifully styled black blouse and pants an unobtrusive setting for her striking, dark chocolate complexion and her mass of black hair, intricately braided with colored beads. “The ladies are lunching,” she said approvingly. “A quiet table where you can chat without being interrupted?”

  “That sounds perfect,” Eden said, and Iris nodded in agreement.

  Rachelle led them across the dining room, only a third full at the beginning of the lunch hour, to an end table by the window where a pillar and a couple of plants offered semi-seclusion. The restaurant décor appealed to Iris, with its simplicity and the authentic nautical touches provided by Rachelle’s father, a commercial fisher. The wooden walls and tables suited Destiny’s ambience and the large windows gave a light, spacious feel. Rachelle and Celia had added plants, local art, and sprigs of fall blossoms and leaves on each table, bringing beauty and nature into the room without making it cluttered.

  As always, Iris took a seat with her back toward most of the room. Miranda and Eden both chose to sit across from her. The better to interrogate you, my dear.

  Rachelle said, “Today’s special is seafood gumbo.”

  “Yes,” Miranda said, without opening the menu.

  “That does sound wonderful,” Eden agreed.

  “Make it three, please,” Iris added.

  Rachelle grinned. “You ladies are too easy. Now, what about drinks? Miranda, I know you love the C-Shell cocktail. Eden, Iris, a glass of wine perhaps?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Eden said. “I’m driving. And working today.”

  Iris and Miranda also turned down alcohol and they agreed to share a pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade.

  When Rachelle had departed, Iris, knowing there’d be no avoiding the debriefing, opened the subject. “Thanks again for dinner, Miranda. It was a lovely evening.”

  Not even bothering with a “you’re welcome,” Miranda went straight to the point. “You and Julian have a thing.”

  Iris raised her eyebrows and tried not to blush. She hadn’t seen Julian since he dropped her at her condo Friday night, because he’d spent every spare moment rehearsing with Forbes’s bandmates in preparation for Jane and George Nelson’s sixtieth wedding anniversary on Saturday. All the same, he had inhabited her thoughts: his sensitivity, his shadowed secrets, the sensual “verses” they’d been creating for the song of Iris and Julian.

  It had surprised her on Friday when he’d stopped kissing her to make sure she understood they weren’t building toward a romantic future. As a longtime admirer of his music, she knew Julian didn’t write songs with happy endings. Many things in life didn’t end ideally, but that was no reason to not revel in the process. Being listened to by a man, being respected, and being kissed the way he kissed her were firsts for her, and very much things to revel in.

  “Well?” Miranda demanded.

  Iris gave her head a small shake to clear it, and focused on her friend. “I didn’t hear a question. And I don’t know what you mean by a thing.”

  “A connection. An intimacy. Are you sleeping with him?”

  “No!” The exclamation came out too loud, and Iris pressed her fingers to her cheeks. More quietly, she said, “No, we’re not. I’ve only known him a couple of weeks.” Though her fingertips felt the heat of embarrassment, she couldn’t resist going on. “You sense an intimacy?” Iris knew it was there, but hadn’t realized others would notice. “How do you mean?”

  It was Eden who spoke this time. “Like between two people who know each other well and care about each other.”

  “We’re friends.”

  “It’s more than what she said,” Miranda said. “There’s sex, too. Well, maybe not actual sex but sexual chemistry. Don’t deny it. I know these things.”

  Eden shot her an amused look, but didn’t contradict her.

  “Alright, yes, there’s attraction, and—” Iris broke off and lowered her hands from her cheeks as Ellen, one of the C-Shell servers, brought their lemonade and poured three glasses. A middle-aged woman clad in the restaurant’s classic black, she wore her blond hair in a thick braid, and moved with professional competence.

  When Ellen left, Iris continued, still feeling embarrassed but also a little proud. “And there’s caring. The caring of one friend for another. I know it may seem odd to you that a man like Julian would care for a woman like me, but I really believe he does.”

  “It’s not odd that a man would care for you,” Eden said.

  Miranda nodded vigorously. “You’re terrific. And he does.” She stopped, wrinkling her nose. “Well, it seems to me he does, but up until Luke, I was actually pretty terrible about distinguishing lust from genuine caring.”

  “Julian cares,” Eden said firmly. “And I can see there’s more to him than what I thought when I first saw him.”

  “Which was?” Miranda asked.

  Eden smirked. “A tarnished angel who’s playing-with-fire hot.”

  Miranda laughed. “Yeah, that’s good.”

  A tarnished angel. What an interesting perception. “So far,” Iris said dryly, “I’ve managed not to burn my fingers.”

  “So far,” Eden echoed. “I’m glad, but, Iris, where’s your relationship heading?”

  “Um, into a developing friendship?” she responded.

  “Friends with benefits?” Miranda asked.

  Iris pressed her lips together. She knew perfectly well what her friend meant, but she wouldn’t make this easy for her. “Our friendship has many benefits,” she said quietly.

  Eden, who was sipping lemonade, almost choked. She coughed a couple of
times, her eyes dancing with laughter. But then the sparkle faded and when she found her voice, she said, “Iris, you’re wonderful and I believe there’s more to Julian than his public image. He seems like a good guy. But I’m worried about you.” She reached across the table to touch Iris’s hand, a quick, affectionate brush of fingers. “You’re not exactly the most experienced at dating. And rather than dip your toes in the water with some nice local man who has a lot in common with you, you’ve dived off the high board.”

  “Doing a back flip and some of those fancy twisty things on the way,” Miranda added.

  “Meaning that Julian’s out of my league. Not just in terms of experience, but the fact that he is, to use Miranda’s term, a rock star. The odd thing is, when we’re together, he seems like a . . . well, a special guy but a normal one.”

  “That’s true,” Eden said. “I was expecting him to act like, well, a celebrity, but he does seem pretty normal. All the same, I wonder if you’ve truly considered the pros and cons of your relationship.”

  Iris and Miranda exchanged eye-rolls. Analytical Eden was fond of her pro and con lists.

  Iris believed in considering potential consequences, but as she’d discussed with Julian, she was more Zen or Taoist in her decision-making, opening herself to sensing what the universe intended for her. “In a general way. But a pro and con list sounds so cold-blooded.”

  “Emotion and intuition come into it as well,” Eden said. “But a list helps you focus.”

  Wanting to oblige her friend, and curious whether she would learn anything useful, Iris said, “Well then, I think the cons can probably all be combined into one overarching one. Julian is a celebrity with a totally different life than mine, and when his father’s better, Julian will return to that life and I will stay here. And it will hurt.”

  Eden and Miranda nodded. “And doesn’t that—” Eden started, but stopped while Ellen served three substantial bowls of spicy, fragrant gumbo, and set down a wooden board with a mini-loaf of cornbread and a ceramic container holding butter.