Take a Chance on Me(70)

“I remember the year I came home for a visit during the summer, hearing rumors that he and Felicity were an item.” He took the onion, began to slice it. It came off in thin rounds. “I wasn’t surprised. He was always competing with me for something. Hockey. Grades. Felicity.”

“You and Felicity dated in high school?”

Darek blinked as if trying to fight off the sting of the onion. “No. Not really.” He looked away, widened his eyes. “Wow, these are strong.”

Ivy reached over to steal the onion from him and finished slicing. She’d never been susceptible to the power of onions.

He set down his knife. “We went to senior prom together—double-dated with Jensen and Claire. I think Felicity got it in her head then that we should be together, and . . . well, she came on pretty strong after that, and especially when I got back that summer, despite the fact that she was dating Jensen.” He lifted the hood on the grill, dropped the steaks on with the tongs. Seasoned them with garlic. “Not that I wasn’t willing.” He sighed. “You should probably know that Felicity and I weren’t married when Tiger was conceived.”

Ivy hadn’t expected that. But, well—

He looked at her then, something of pain in his eyes. “The truth was, I didn’t want to get married. I was angry at her—I felt like she trapped me.” He closed the hood, turned the heat down more. “I wasn’t exactly a great husband. I was angry and resentful and gone most of the time on the hotshot crew. I worked year-round back then, training when I wasn’t working for the forest service. No wonder she turned to Jensen.”

His words made her look up. “Did she and Jensen—?”

“I don’t know. After three years of thinking about it, I don’t think so, but at the time . . .”

That seemed so . . . forgiving for a man who had just tackled said nemesis in public. Ivy added the onion to the bowl. Picked up the lettuce and began to tear it with her hands.

He took a long breath, gazing toward the house across the lake. “Deep down, I was so angry at her, at life.” A muscle pulled in his jaw. “I accused Felicity of having an affair the night she . . .” He sighed. “I can’t believe I did that. I can still hear it sometimes, my own voice in my head telling me to stop. Telling me to just shut my mouth. But I can’t take the words back. I can’t stop the rush of accusations—so many of them. I blamed her for everything. For getting pregnant, for stealing my life. And she threw it right back at me. Told me that I should be more like Jensen. That he wouldn’t run out on her. That’s when I suggested that maybe she was looking for a do-over with the boy next door.”

Ivy had stopped tearing the lettuce and now just watched him deflate, wearing his defeat on his face.

“Sadly, she was right. Jensen was the kind of guy she could depend on. He’d always been that guy, and I knew it. Despite his parents’ broken marriage, Jensen was a guy who would have settled in Deep Haven, made a life with her. He’s small town at heart, and in a way, I stole Felicity from him.”

His words left her a little hollow, unsure how to respond. “Did he love her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. He had a soft spot for Claire, but Felicity was always shiny and bright. She attracted all our attention.” He let out a wry chuckle. “Jensen was the best man at my shotgun wedding.”

“Shotgun?”

“No, not really, I guess. Although I’m sure Nan and George wished they had one, maybe to run me off.” He gave her the smallest smile.

She hesitated, then smiled back.

Behind him, smoke trickled from the grill. “The steaks!” He heaved open the lid. Smoke billowed out as he grabbed the meat, turned it.

“I hope you like your meat charred,” he said. “Sorry.”

I didn’t come for the food. Not that she let herself say that, but as she watched him begin to toss the salad, she wanted to slide into his arms. Mold herself to him, taste his lips on hers.

Make him forget all his mistakes, his regret, and . . .

Stay here as if she belonged.

Maybe someday, if he could forgive Jensen, then Darek could also forgive her. In fact, maybe she should just tell him the truth—tell him that, from a distance, Jensen looked innocent. Probably was, but she’d leave that out. She’d come clean, let Darek see that she never meant him—or Deep Haven—any harm.

She was just trying to be impartial. To help justice along.

“I forgive you,” she said, reaching for the salad. “Just don’t set anything else on fire.”

He laughed, rich and delicious.