Wrapped Up In You (A Mystic Island Christmas) Read online

  "Hurts, doesn't it?"

  Cole cleared his throat, trying to find a way to shut down the grief thundering through him. "What hurts?"

  "Saying good-bye to the woman you love."

  Cole flexed his jaw. "Yeah, well, it happens." He didn't want to have this conversation. He wanted to get away from the island that seemed to do nothing more than give him someone to love and take them away. The magic of the island was bullshit. It was a place where hell won.

  "You have a sec?"

  Cole let out his breath, then turned to face the older man. "Paul, I'll be honest. I'm not much in the mood to talk. The ferry comes in an hour, and I need to get packed up."

  "Then I'll talk, and I'll make it quick." Paul looked right at him, his pale gray eyes the same color as the ocean on a stormy day. "You were a kid before, but you're a man now, and it's time you heard it."

  Foreboding rippled through Cole. There was no way he was going to revisit his dad's death or anything related to it. "It's over, Paul. It's long over. Let it lie." He wasn't in the mood to hear some sort of confession about how he'd loved Cole's mom long before his dad had died.

  "No, it's not." Paul held out an envelope, one that was tattered and worn, yellowing on the corners. "This is for you."

  Cole shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "I don't want it. I don't need it."

  "Your dad wrote it."

  Cole went cold, staring at the battered envelope. "My dad?" he echoed blankly, staring at the weathered paper.

  "A month before he died. Take it."

  Slowly, Cole took the envelope from Paul's hand. He was surprised to see his hand was shaking. He turned away, walking to the edge of the dock, before he opened it. He recognized his dad's handwriting immediately, and his gut clenched. It was as if his dad had suddenly come back to life for a final good-bye, and it shook Cole hard. It took a minute for his eyes to clear enough to read the faded writing. Paul. I need you to take care of my boy. He's going to have it rough after I'm gone. He and his mom don't get along that well. He's going to need someone. You're my best friend. I need this from you. Promise me.

  Cole closed his eyes against the surge of emotion. He felt as though his dad had reached down from heaven and rested his hand on his shoulder, just as he'd done so many times before. Dad.

  "I promised him I'd protect you," Paul said, walking up beside him. "I thought marrying your mom was the best way to do it, but I was wrong."

  Cole's throat was tight, and he had to clear it several times before he could speak. "You married my mom because of your promise to my dad? I thought…I thought you…people said that you and my mom were having an affair before my dad died." He glanced over at Paul. "I thought that all the time you spent at our place had actually been to see my mom."

  Paul sighed. "I'm not going to lie, Cole. I grew to love her deeply. She was an amazing woman, and an incredible mother to my boys. I cherished every minute with her." Paul leaned on the railing, staring across the ocean "Your mom and I talked about it after your dad's funeral. We both decided it was the right choice. She was devastated by your dad's death and wanted to keep his legacy going for your sake, but she couldn't afford to run the inn herself. She was worried about you, aware that you and she didn't have a strong bond. The day we decided to get married, it was as friends, not lovers. We didn't fall in love until later."

  Cole's fingers closed around the envelope, cradling the old paper carefully, his mind spinning as he processed everything Paul was telling him. "You paid the expenses of the inn?" he asked. "You kept it going for my dad?"

  "Yeah. It was important to him that you didn't lose it. He knew what it meant to you, but he was short on cash. It never ran much of a profit, and your mom was going to have to sell it. It was never her first love, as you know. It was your dad's baby."

  Cole closed his eyes, remembering, for the first time in ages, how proud he'd been the first time he'd cooked dinner for the guests, with his dad's oversight. He recalled admiring their work after they'd repainted the exterior. He remembered watching guests sip cocktails on the deck he'd rebuilt with his father. His mom had kept the inn for him, not because she wanted it? No wonder she'd closed on Christmas after she'd married Paul. It hadn't been because Paul had taken her away from it. It was because she'd never loved it in the first place, but she'd kept it going for him. His throat tightened, and he ran his hands through his hair as the constructs he'd believed in for so long came tumbling down around him.

  "I couldn't help you," Paul said softly. "I did everything I could think of to reach you, but you hated everything about me. Every night when I go to sleep, I think about how I've failed your dad and you."

  Cole gritted his jaw, trying to think through the rush of emotions flooding him. So much he hadn't known, so much he'd been wrong about for so long. "Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

  Paul looked at him, and for the first time, Cole saw the weariness in the man's eyes. "Would you have believed me?"

  Cole let out his breath, and thought back to who he'd been back then. Angry. Bitter. Isolated. He'd hated the inn. He'd resented his mother. He'd hated Paul for betraying his dad, and for being the one who was still alive. "No." If Paul had tried to explain, Cole probably would have torn up the letter without even reading it, and it would have been gone forever.

  He turned toward the ocean, and leaned on the railing next to Paul. For a long while, he struggled with what to say, to find words that would chase away all the dirt of their past. Finally, he said simply, "I'm sorry."

  Paul glanced over at him. "No apologies, Cole. We all live as best we can."

  "Do we? Or do we look for the shit just so we can bury ourselves in it?" He was pissed now, angry at the kid he'd once been, aware of how much lost time had passed over the years, time when he could have kept his father's memory alive through Paul.

  "Some of both, I think."

  They both fell silent, and the only sound was the crashing of the waves against the pilings of the dock. Cole listened to the rush of water, a sound he hadn't listened to in so long. He let himself notice the rich, loamy scent of the ocean, and the taste of the salty air on his lips, the things that had once been such a part of him that they'd been a part of the fabric of his soul.

  "Do yourself a favor, Cole," Paul said after a bit. "Don't give up living because you're trying to run from the past. It'll go with you wherever you go, no matter how far you go."

  Cole managed a grim smile. "Willow said the same thing."

  "Smart woman."

  Again, silence fell between them, but for the first time since his dad's death, Cole felt like some of the shadows that had been haunting him were lighter. "Thanks for trying so hard all that time, Paul. You didn't need to do it." He looked over his shoulder at the inn standing so proudly on the bluff that overlooked the town. "Thanks for saving the inn," he added quietly.

  "I'll keep trying to help you until I'm dead. That promise to your dad is forever."

  Cole's throat tightened, and he ran his finger over the worn envelope. "How many times have you read this?"

  "Every day. I wanted to make sure I never forgot, even a little." Paul continued to look across the ocean. "I was planning to talk to you at your mom's funeral, but I wasn't in the right place. My heart broke the day she died, and when I saw you across the church, with the same eyes as hers, I felt like you were my last connection with either of them, a connection that I hadn't been able to save. It hurt to look at you, son. Your dad was my best friend, and your mom made my heart beat. You're my only connection to them, and I was afraid that if I spoke to you that day, I'd break the last thread that connected me to those I'd lost."

  Cole let out his breath, his chest constricting at the pain in the older man's voice. "I'm sorry for judging you."

  Paul smiled. "It's what teenagers do. My boys would have been in much worse shape if your mom hadn't been there for them. I always felt guilty that by marrying her, I wound up taking her away from you instead of giving you th
e support I intended."

  Cole shook his head. "My mom and I never got along. That wouldn't have changed no matter what." He shifted restlessly. "I did miss my dad, though. I still do."

  "I know. I do, too. Every day." Paul chuckled. "I'll never forget the day he grabbed the microphone at the Christmas party and sang Silent Night."

  Cole laughed, picturing his dad on the stage. "I forgot about that. Too much eggnog. He was God-awful up there."

  Paul laughed too, reminding Cole of the days he'd sit around with Paul and his dad after dinner on the front porch, enjoying the night while the guests retired. Those had been good days, days long gone. But maybe, just maybe, new ones could be formed. "You want to get a coffee?" he asked. "My treat."

  Paul raised his brows. "Yeah, I would."

  Cole smiled. "You pick the place. I'm a little out of touch."

  "The best is still The Mermaid Cafe. You up for it?"

  It had been his dad's favorite place. "Yeah, I am. Let's go."

  Chapter 13

  WILLOW STOOD AT the edge of the movie set in Ireland, watching everyone race around as they prepared for the day's shooting. It was a scene so familiar to her, one she'd grown up around. As familiar as it was, however, it was also completely different, because this time, she belonged here by her own right. It was her set. Not her mom's. Not her dad's. Hers.

  She'd felt the difference the moment she'd stepped out of the limo. The director had been waiting for her to welcome her personally. She'd been assigned a personal assistant to get her anything she wanted, no matter what it was. She had her own trailer, with her name emblazoned across the door in gold and black letters. It was everything she'd aspired to for so long.

  But when she saw that deluxe trailer with her name, the thought that had flashed through her mind was how ugly it was compared to Cole's inn. When she'd gone to sleep at night, her bed had felt cold and empty. When someone had hammered on her door to demand her appearance, she'd thought of Rosie's friendly visits. Even now, as she stood with her perfectly coifed hair and her scene-appropriate makeup, she felt a deep sense of wrongness, not the satisfaction she'd expected.

  Why didn't this feel right? Why didn't it feel the way it was supposed to? This was her world, and now she'd finally claimed her spot...and yet she didn't want to be here.

  She hated the way everyone called her Ms. Morgan. The paparazzi were haunting her, just as they had her whole life, still looking for that horrible moment they could expose her to the world. Her co-star had made it clear that he was making the film under protest, because he'd signed on to co-star with an A-list actress, not an untalented Hollywood legacy who got the job because of her last name. He'd made it clear that it wasn't her set. She was just a last choice when no one else could do it.

  She'd known she'd been a last resort, of course, because she wasn't an idiot. But now that she was here, the enormity of what she'd taken on had settled down upon her. The pressure was extraordinary to deliver a top-level performance in such a highly anticipated film. She knew she could do it. She knew she was doing good work, and she knew she'd pull it off, no matter what her co-star thought. This chance to prove herself was what she'd fought for her entire life, but now that she'd attained it, it was an empty victory. It wasn't any better being a star than it was being the untalented offspring of stars. It was the same, and she didn't want to be here. The glitz and the glam wasn't her. It hadn't been when she'd been on the fringes, and it wasn't now that she was in the midst of it.

  She wanted to be on Mystic Island, living a life that mattered to her, with people who mattered to her. With Cole.

  She sighed at the thought of the man she hadn't been able to stop thinking about since she'd left. She missed him more than she could ever grasp. She missed his smile, his frown, and the mischievous gleam in his eye when he decided it was time for them to take an extended break from painting. She missed the way he believed in her. She missed how he made her feel like the most special, most loved woman in the world. She missed everything about him, and the island he'd once called home.

  She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be there, and she wanted to be there now. For good.

  The moment she thought it, she realized it was true. This wasn't her world. Her world was elsewhere, and she just hadn't been brave enough to take it. Maybe Cole wasn't going to stay and run the inn with her, but that didn't mean she had to live the life she didn't want. Her heart pounding, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, and hit the auto-dial for her agent, excitement mounting with each ring. Her agent finally answered. "Willow—"

  "I'm dropping out of the movie." Excitement leapt through her, and she couldn't stop grinning. She felt so strong, so empowered, the most liberated she'd felt in her entire life.

  "What? You can't! You signed a contract!"

  "Everyone on the set will be thrilled, trust me. It's not a fit. I'm out."

  "You'll never work again in this business," he warned.

  She laughed at his melodrama, relief rushing through her. "I know. Thank God, right?"

  "What? Willow—"

  She hung up and hugged the phone to her chest, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face. And just like that, it was over. A lifetime of wanting to be a part of something that never fit her. She was finally free.

  "Hiding in the shadows like this is somewhat antisocial, you know," a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

  "Cole!" She whirled around to find him standing behind her, looking so deliciously handsome and wonderful that tears filled her eyes. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt untucked from his jeans. He looked like a rugged Maine man, sexy, untamed, and wonderful. Without stopping to think, she flung her arms around him, burying herself against him.

  He hugged her tightly, pulling them further into the shadows as he kissed her, a desperate, intense kiss that enveloped her so completely it was as if they'd never been apart.

  "God, I missed you," he whispered.

  "Me, too." She wrapped her arms around him, unable to keep the smile off her face. She grinned up at him, giddy with happiness that he was there. "I thought you'd be on your way to Australia by now."

  He shrugged and fingered her overly styled hair with a frown. "I missed my ferry, so I was stuck on the island for another week, which made me miss my flight. So, I painted some walls. Hung out with Luc and his son. Stalked Rosie. Did some thinking." He enfolded her hands in his, drawing her against him. "Here's the thing, Willow. You were right."

  She grinned at him, too happy to see him to care what he was talking about. "Right about what?"

  "The past becoming a part of you. I got off the plane here, and I could still see that boat sinking. It didn't go away. It will never go away. Neither will the pain of losing my dad. Running from the island didn't make it go away."

  She nodded, her smile fading. "I know. It never does."

  "But it did start to fade when I was stuck on that island for that extra week. I talked to people I hadn't talked to in a long time. I went to my parents' graves. I went to the graves of Alana and her dad. I made peace with my stepdad, and even hung out with my stepbrothers."

  Her throat tightened. She could see the peace in his eyes, peace that had never been there before. "I'm so glad, Cole. But...why are you here? You could have called me to tell me."

  "Yeah, but this is better." He raised her hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckle. "I can't sell the inn, Willow. It's my family's legacy, and mine. I want to keep it. I want to run it. I want my kids to grow up there."

  She smiled, her heart lifting at the image he painted. "I'm so glad to hear that—"

  "But," he said, interrupting her. "That means you can't buy it. I felt kind of bad about that, because I know you wanted to, so I wanted to make you a deal."

  Something in the gleam of his eye made her heart quicken. "A deal? What kind of deal might that be?"

  "Well, see, here's the thing." His eyes were glinting with that same teasing mischievousness she'
d missed. "I enjoyed being at the inn over Christmas, but this week, without you, was kind of rough. So, I thought maybe you'd want to run it with me? Sort of a tag team effort?"

  Her grin widened, but she couldn't stop from teasing him right back. "What are you saying? That you want to hire me as a manager?"

  His expression became serious, his gaze intense. "No. I want you to be my partner, in every way." He traced his fingers along her jaw, in an intimate gesture that made her heart ache with longing. "I'll sell my company in Australia. I didn't want it anyway. I can fly back and forth between here and Mystic Island, and when you're on break between movies, you can come back there with me. It's a long distance thing, but we can make it work."

  Her heart seemed to stand still, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. "Really?"

  He nodded, his fingers tightening on hers. "If you don't want to fly, that's fine. I'm happy to do all the traveling. I've lost too many people I love, and I'm not losing you. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

  Her throat tightened, and sudden doubt flickered through her. "What if I was just me? What if I wasn't a movie star? Would you still feel that way?"

  Cole laughed softly. "You really have to ask that, sweetheart? You know that you're the one I love. I've loved you since you were fifteen. Not your last name. Not your family. I love you. Why would you even ask that?"

  Her throat tightened, and tears filled her eyes. "Because I just quit. I don't have a job anymore, and in about five minutes, they're going to boot me off the set."

  "You quit?" At her nod, he frowned. "You want to walk away from this? It's your dream."

  "No. It's the dream of other people." She laced her fingers behind his neck and leaned into him, basking in the feel of his strong body against hers. Never had a place felt right before, but being in Cole's arms was overwhelmingly perfect. "It's the dream I was told I had to want. I have it, and I hate it. I hate everything about being here, just like I hated it when I was a kid."