Free And Then Forever by Shirley Jump Page B

closest to Darcy had kept her secret, and backed up her story where she had alluded to a brief relationship on the mainland, and no one had ever questioned her.
    “If you figured it out—”
    Nona put a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. Not many people will. But I think he deserves to know. Because I’m assuming he doesn’t, or he’d be beating down the door to see her.”
    Darcy shook her head. “It’s complicated.”
    “Life always is.” Nona put a tender hand on Darcy’s cheek. “You’re a good mother. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
    But as Darcy headed out the door a few minutes later, walking the short distance to The Love Shack, she had to wonder if that was true. Unless Kincaid left, there didn’t seem to be a solution that would work. She couldn’t keep Emma inside every day indefinitely. But she also couldn’t go running around town with her daughter, without someone—like Kincaid—putting the pieces together. The only solution was to get Kincaid off this island.
    She detoured, heading for the small cottage Whit often rented out to tourists during the season, and lent to his family the rest of the year. The crushed seashell path crunched under her steps. Just as she reached the porch, Kincaid came trundling down the stairs and then down the path, as if he wanted to head her off before she got to the house.
    Her heart skipped a beat, the traitor. He was wearing khaki shorts and a gray concert T-shirt, looking relaxed and so comfortable, she could sink into him. The sun glinted off his dark hair, and the beginnings of a tan. He looked good, damn him.
    Darcy saw a flicker of a white lacy curtain in the kitchen window, a glimpse of a person, and then the curtain settled back into place. Somebody was here with Kincaid. It wouldn’t be his family, not when the Foster beachfront mansion sat a couple miles away, unused. Was it a wife? Girlfriend? And why did she care?
    “Darcy. What are you doing here?” Kincaid asked. A half smile played on the edges of his mouth, as if he was glad to see her.
    She refused to let that make her happy. Her goal was to get rid of him—fast. But then her mind went back to that kiss and a part of her wanted him to stay. To finish what they had begun.
    “I should ask you the same thing.” She propped her fists on her hips. “Why are you staying at Whit’s place? Why not stay at the family monstrosity?”
    He arched a brow. “Monstrosity?”
    That’s what she got for letting her mouth run away from her brain. A flush heated her cheeks. “That’s just what some of the islanders call it.”
    Okay, so everyone she knew did. Especially herself. The Foster mansion was a twelve-thousand square foot columned house with three stories that blocked the view from all the lesser houses across the street. Darcy had heard that the house sported ten bathrooms, seven bedrooms, and both an indoor and outdoor pool. It had taken two years to build, been used about as frequently as a winter coat in Florida, then shuttered the rest of the time. A staff of five dusted it off once a week, but other than that, the monstrosity just sat there, soaking up the best real estate on Fortune’s Island.
    He chuckled. “Funny, so do I. I’m not staying there because I’ve never liked that place. It’s too big, too…echo-y.”
    “Echo-y? That’s not even a word.”
    He took another step closer. “Probably not. But it’s the right one for the monstrosity.”
    When she inhaled, she caught the scent of his cologne. Something darker, more woodsy than what he’d worn when they were younger. It lured her in, made her want to press a kiss to his neck, trail more kisses down the ridges of his chest, then back up again, until he was pressing her into the wall and inside her again—
    Damn it.
    She drew herself up. “Why are you here?”
    “You keep asking me that. Why do I need a reason? Why can’t I just be on vacation?”
    “And are you? On vacation?”
    “Sort of.”
    She threw