Cara Lockwood

Island Of Second Chances


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face went pale. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

      “I know,” Mark said, waving his hand as if it was a dismissable foul. He was so tired of people apologizing all the time if he ever brought up Timothy. It wasn’t her fault he’d died. And frankly, talking about him meant no one would forget him. “I’m naming the boat Timothy...after him. He wasn’t quite three when he died.”

      “Mark.” Laura clutched her chest as if her own heart were breaking. “That’s just so awful. What happened?”

      “Accident,” he said, curt, cutting off the word before it even left his mouth. Accident. That’s what they called that horrible day Timothy walked into the ocean and never came back. “My ex-wife was watching him on the beach one morning when I was away at work. She fell asleep. Timothy wandered into the water and never came out.”

      It was the other reason Mark wanted to be out on the sea. That’s where his boy was.

      “She fell asleep?” Laura sounded shocked. “But that’s horrible. The boy in her care and...”

      Mark nodded. It was horrible. All of it.

      “I don’t know what to say.” Laura’s eyes brimmed with tears. Was she going to cry? He was momentarily baffled by the response. Why did she feel the loss so acutely? He was used to looks of pity. But hers was something else. Like she’d experienced loss herself.

      He was about to ask her about it when a hard knock came on Mark’s door. Laura looked a little startled but recovered as Mark checked his phone. Only then did he realize he’d forgotten to plug it in. He guessed it must’ve died shortly after he’d shown Laura the video of her dancing on the beach. Mark walked to the door, praying it wasn’t his brother, or this morning was about to get a lot more hostile.

      He swung open the front door to find Dave standing there, tall and blond, looking his usual tanned, thirtysomething self. Dave was one of the best sailors on the island. He’d won the race three years in a row, and he’d be helping Mark do it for a fourth time.

      “Do you answer your phone?” Dave accused as he swept into Mark’s condo.

      “Phone died,” Mark said and then added sarcastically, “Well, come on in. Make yourself at home.”

      Dave saw Laura and stopped in his tracks. “Oh. Uh... I didn’t realize you had company. I can come back.”

      “No, come on in. She’s my upstairs neighbor. Laura, meet Dave, the best skipper on the island.”

      Dave extended his hand and Laura took it, though Dave barely acknowledged her. He seemed distracted, worried even. “I’ll come back, man.”

      “No. Stay. I’ve got a few ideas I want to go over with you about the boat, and we’re way behind, really, so I need extra hands today if you can spare them...”

      Dave was really starting to look uncomfortable as he shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other. He glanced anxiously at Laura, who managed a weak grin, her hangover still haunting her.

      “No, why don’t I let you... I mean... I’ll come back.”

      “Dave. Come on. You’re here. Let’s go over a few things.”

      “I can go,” Laura said, standing up for a wobbly second, holding her head. Poor thing looked like she might topple over. That hangover was a doozy.

      “No, stay,” Mark said, and Laura gratefully slumped into the couch once more. Mark returned to the kitchen where he finished cracking eggs in a bowl, added a bit of milk and then put them in the melting butter in the pan on the stove.

      “You haven’t had breakfast yet. Dave? You want something?”

      Dave reluctantly followed Mark to his kitchen. “Uh, no, man. I’ve eaten, and anyway I can’t stay long. The wife wants me to help shop for strollers today.”

      Dave and his wife were expecting their first child in a few months.

      Mark was happy for his friend. He and Katie had been trying for years and the pregnancy came after they’d both thought neither one would ever be a parent. Dave was a stand-up guy, a good guy, and Mark knew he’d make a wonderful father. Katie would also make an excellent mother. But the news still caused a pang in his heart.

      “Any names yet?”

      “A few.” Dave relaxed a little bit but still didn’t sit down. “Katie wants to name her Madison, after her mother’s maiden name. I prefer Penelope, after my mom.”

      “How about Penelope Madison?” Mark offered.

      “Could work,” Dave said, but then sank into a moody silence. He glanced at Laura once and then back at Mark.

      “What is it? You look like you just found out your dog died.” Mark dropped his spatula on the kitchen counter. “Come on. Spit it out.”

      Dave laughed, a nervous little bark. “Why do you say that?”

      “Because you always were a lousy actor,” Mark said. He turned the stove off, the smell of freshly cooked scrambled eggs filling the air.

      Dave looked like he was about to face a firing squad. He glanced once more at Laura.

      “Look, she can hear whatever it is you have to say,” Mark said, suddenly not caring. “We decided we don’t have secrets.” He winked at her and she smiled shyly.

      “I don’t know how to say this.” Dave glanced down, looking ashamed.

      Fear and apprehension rose in Mark’s chest. He remembered what his brother had told him about trusting his friends. Had Edward gotten to him? Had Dave been bought?

      But they’d been good friends for years, worked side by side on winning boats for the last three years. Sure, Edward had been part of that, but Mark always thought of Dave as his friend first. After all, Mark had been the one to find him in Florida and recruit him to come sail the Tanner boat in the race.

      Dave had helped the Tanner brothers win prize money that they ultimately put into Tanner Boating. Dave, of course, had his own money, after inheriting a multimillion-dollar corporation from his dad. He largely lived off a trust fund, using his free time to sail, which had become his life’s passion. Edward couldn’t bribe Dave. It’s one reason Mark had been so certain Dave would be on his side.

      “I can’t race with you.”

      “What do you mean, ‘can’t’?” Mark felt the panic rise in his throat. Why couldn’t Dave race?

      “You know Katie and Elle are friends.”

      Elle, Mark’s ex-wife. Yes, he knew Elle and Katie were friends—good friends. Best of friends, actually. The four of them had been nearly inseparable when they’d been a couple. But since the separation and then divorce, Dave and Katie had worked hard to befriend them both. “Yes,” Mark said carefully. “But so are we.” He paused, suddenly wondering if that were still true. “Aren’t we, Dave?”

      “Of course, we are. You know that. It’s just...”

      Mark wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what came next.

      “Listen, you know that I’m on your side,” Dave said. “But Katie is pregnant, and so is—”

      “I know,” Mark interrupted, holding up his hand. He didn’t want to talk about how Elle was expecting his brother’s baby. Dave suddenly couldn’t look Mark in the eye. “She feels that she’s got to take Elle’s side, and she’s asked me—” Dave swallowed hard “—not to race with you.”

      “What?” Mark felt the betrayal like a sharp jab to the gut. He felt irrational anger flare up in his chest. Why would she ask him to do that? And where were Dave’s balls? Was he just going to roll over because his wife said so? Mark had done a lot of good things for Elle and Dave, and he’d been good friends with both of them.

      In the