Meet Me at Sunset (Evening Island) - Olivia Miles Page 0,25

he was just a year older. That was the problem, he’d told her when he ended things. They were too young to know better then. Too young to know what they wanted.

In other words, he now knew what he wanted. And it wasn’t her.

Sighing, she walked south toward town, past the robin’s egg blue Victorian where the Taylors summered with their three girls, each redheaded and pale skinned, requiring their mother to lather their arms and legs and cheeks with so much sunscreen that their skin would be slick for the entire morning. The Taylors hailed from the Detroit area, a wealthy suburb not much different than the one that the Morgans had grown up in.

But that was where the similarities stopped. While both families had daughters, lived comfortably, and summered on Evening Island, Mrs. Taylor was warm and funny, with a laugh that was infectious, and the girls all had a giggle that was contagious. The whole family was happy and smiling, whereas the Morgans felt uptight by comparison—a little uncomfortable when it came to expressing emotion or being casual. Unless they were here, away from the stern gaze of their father. Did their mother pull them into their arms and braid their hair and have pet names for them the way the Taylors did? No. But at least up here, she wasn’t nagging them to stand with their shoulders back or straighten their hair bows or parade them around like a trio of dolls either. Here they could be themselves, their own individuals. Back in Cleveland, that wasn’t allowed.

Even now, she thought, thinking of Ellie, it was thinly tolerated.

Ellie. She really had been too hard on her. And no one ever said that it was her job to take care of the house. Now that they were all here, they should all share in the work. It was just that Gemma hadn’t factored in just how much work that would be. She’d talk to Ellie, once Ellie was around long enough to talk to. The past few days Gemma had rarely left her room other than to eat the meals that Hope was forever cooking and offering, and usually Ellie was out, at her studio, or somewhere else she hadn’t made known.

Maybe she was with Simon, Gemma thought, thinking about what Hope had said about finding love again. Contrary to what Gemma led her readers to believe, it just wasn’t that easy. At least, not for her.

She stopped to admire the annuals that were popping into full bloom beside the tulips in various shades of pink, purple, and white that lined the path to the Taylors’ porch. She knew the property as well as Sunset Cottage—soon there would be peonies, big, puffy balls of gorgeous pale pink and fuchsia flowers, and cream ones, her personal favorite.

The very kind that were supposed to be tied together with a blue ribbon for her wedding bouquet.

She must have been standing outside the gate to the Taylors’ home for quite some time, because she hadn’t even seen the man come around the side of the house. Now, feeling his stare, her eyes shifted, and her cheeks heated at what she saw. A tousle-haired man not much older than herself, in jeans and work boots and, God help her, nothing else.

She tried to pull her eyes away from his chest, but that would have made her not human. He was broad in the shoulders, and his muscles were lean, and on full display. Even though it was only May, his skin was bronzed from the sun.

“Can I help you?” the man asked in a tone laced with enough amusement that Gemma had to wonder if she’d actually been gaping.

Being holed up with her sisters and alone in her apartment before that clearly hadn’t been good for her. It was just a man, and many men in this world were good looking.

Her mouth felt dry as she tried to look natural. “We own the house next door,” she explained. She got a better look at his face as he approached. Yes, focus on the face, Gemma. Piercing green eyes, nut-brown hair, and a strong jaw. But it was the grin that made her stomach do something funny. She tried to compose herself and had a bad feeling that she was failing. “Do you work for the Taylors?”

As if that wasn’t obvious. She hadn’t seen him before, and she thought she knew all the locals on the island, but then she hadn’t been back in