island. I think he wanted to oust the Martin family get-togethers from Aunt Mary’s. It galled him to have the Martin family reunion at Howland House. There was once a time when the Martins were as important as the Howlands.”
So this was about family ego? Really? She wanted to hurl over the sides, but she continued her silence. She had nothing nice to say about his vision.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He barked the question into the wind.
That did it. If he wanted the truth, she’d give it to him. “So basically you want to build a monument to your family’s name, then.”
He laughed without any mirth. “Yes.” And then a moment later. “I loved my grandfather.”
The longing in his voice yanked her back and reminded her that she was here for the purpose of moving on. Maybe she should quit being so angry and try accepting that he was a human capable of loving someone.
And she could understand loving a grandfather. She’d adored PopPop.
“I understand,” she said, fighting to maintain emotional distance from the man who had ruined her life.
Chapter Two
Did she understand?
No way. She was whole, and beautiful, and…He didn’t know what the hell word to use to describe her. She wasn’t intimidated by his anger, and the way she pointed her face at him suggested that she wasn’t giving him the stare.
He wanted her to understand about Granddad. But what the hell. It didn’t matter if she understood. What he wanted was impossible. The dream of a family compound had died with his grandfather. His cousins were scattered around the country these days, and besides, who would want to bring their kids to visit a man whose face made babies cry?
No, he was alone, and likely to be that way for the rest of his life. So what he needed was a place to hide. But saying it out loud wasn’t easy.
He tore his gaze away from Jessica and focused on the compass heading. Not that he needed the direction. He could see Lookout Island off the port bow, the old lighthouse rising up, seemingly from out of the bay itself.
“Maybe I should just restore the lighthouse,” he muttered, feeling the need to say something.
“Well, that’s an option. But are you ready for tiny-house living? A lighthouse usually doesn’t have much square footage.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of everything I want?” he asked in a disgruntled tone. He turned back toward her, irritated that she seemed so carelessly calm, with one leg tucked up under the other.
She shook her head. “No. I’m just doing my job. You haven’t given me much to work with.”
“No. I told you what I wanted and—”
“Not really. You told me what your grandfather wanted, and then you told me what you were willing to settle for. What is it you want, Topher?”
I want my old life back. That was what he wanted, but she was powerless to give him that. So instead, he asked, “What would be involved in turning the lighthouse into a residence?”
She leaned forward, pulling her cap down on her head against the breeze. “Well, I’ve never done a lighthouse restoration, so I’ll need to do some research. But from what I’ve seen in photographs, it will be vertical living. You know, a room on each level. So lots of stairs to get from one place to another.”
She pushed her sunglasses up her nose and looked in his direction. Damnation. He wanted to see her eyes when she said stuff like that. Did she have enough courage to look him in the eye and point out his obvious disability?
“I think maybe I want a little more room,” he said.
“Is there a lightkeeper’s cottage on the island?”
“There was once, but I don’t remember it. Hurricane Hugo blew it down in 1989.”
“Too bad. We could have restored it.”
“I guess. I don’t think it was very big.”
“So you want something big, then?”
He shrugged.
“Are you planning to live there year-round?”
“Of course.”
“Oh. Okay, that’s important to know. We have to worry about winter storms in addition to the occasional tropical disturbance. I don’t think we’ll be able to build a sea wall, but we can—”
“I like the idea of walls,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say. “You know, to keep the storms at bay.” And to keep people out. Then he added, “The lighthouse is made of brick, so maybe we should think about some stone to complement it.” God, he sounded like an idiot.