“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Fisher, but Butler House has always been a part of my family and that’s where it’s going to stay,” I tell him in the nicest voice possible and try not to grit my teeth. “I think it’s about time you worry about your own family instead of what I’m doing with my life. Maybe if you concentrated on the intelligent man that is your flesh and blood, you wouldn’t have so much free time to worry about what I’m doing.”
It feels so good to tell this man what I think of him that I don’t even stop to think about someone overhearing. I’ve held my tongue for so many years out of respect for Fisher, but now that we aren’t together, I don’t have to do that anymore.
“You have a son who is smart, honest, creative and has a very good head on his shoulders. Just because he did something different with his life than what you planned for him doesn’t give you the right to shit all over him and pretend like he doesn’t exist. Fisher is a better man than you’ll ever be on his worst day, and it’s nothing but sad and pathetic that you can’t even see what is right in front of your face. All these years, he’s done everything you’ve asked except work in the family business. He’s lied for you, put up a front for you for everyone in this stupid town and you’ve never once thanked him. Hell, your son served this country for almost thirteen years and you never once told him you’re proud of him. No wonder he can’t stand this place and everything it represents.”
I finally stop to take a breath, noticing a vein sticking so far out of Mr. Fisher’s forehead that looks like it’s about to pop. His face is so red that I’m surprised there isn’t smoke coming out of his ears.
He takes a menacing step towards me and sticks his finger right in my face.
“How DARE you speak to me that way. You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side ever since you sunk your claws into my son when he was a teenager. You and your poor, trashy family honestly think you belong on this island? The only reason my son and someone as smart as Stanford want anything to do with you is because they are easily swayed by loose women who spread their legs for—”
“That’s enough. Get your finger out of her face before I remove it for you.”
A low, furious voice from behind me cuts off Mr. Fisher, but I don’t bother turning around. Even without recognizing the voice, the heat from his body radiating against my back and the light smell of his cologne combined with the salty ocean water that always sticks to his skin would have given him away immediately.
“Put your ex-wife on a leash, son,” Mr. Fisher snarls through clenched teeth.
“I said that’s enough!” Fisher shouts this time. “If one more word about her comes out of your mouth I will sweep the fucking sidewalk with your face in front of everyone in your precious town.”
The barely concealed fury in Fisher’s voice sends chills down my spine and goose bumps pebble my skin even as the bright, late afternoon sun shines down on us. The chills aren’t from fear or worry that Fisher might do something crazy, they’re from pure, unadulterated lust. He’s always defended me to his father, but it was always in a quiet, pleading sort of way. This is straight up, alpha male, I-protect-what’s-mine shit going on and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
This is not good. This is SO not good.
“Fisher, I—”
“Not another word,” Fisher growls, cutting him off. “Lucy, how about you head home now?”
Going by his quiet, firm voice, it’s really more of a demand than a question. I don’t really appreciate him ordering me around, but I’m not stupid. I’m smart enough to know when to walk away, and right now, I need to walk away.
I don’t say a word and I don’t look back at Fisher as I bypass his father and continue heading in the direction of the inn. I refuse to consider that Fisher could have been standing there all that time, listening to me expound on his virtues. He doesn’t need anything else feeding his already inflated ego, but it had to be done. I’m so sick and tired of my ex-father-in-law thinking he can push everyone around because he has more money than God.
I quicken my steps and make it back to the inn in record time, rushing through the front doors and into the living quarters without a word to Ellie and Trip, who are still in the front room, shooting me questioning looks as I brush right past them. I need a cold shower. A really, really long, cold shower. Maybe that will erase the sound of Fisher’s voice and what it did to me from my mind.
Chapter 17
Fisher’s Therapy Journal
Memory Date: December 30, 2005
“Oh, Fisher, it’s beautiful!” my mother exclaims as she pulls the sheet off of the bench I just finished for her. It was supposed to be a Christmas present, but I’ve had a hard couple of months ever since I got home from my deployment in September. It’s taken me a lot longer than I expected to acclimate myself back into my life here on the island and I’ve been consumed with spending all my time with Lucy to make up for the year and a half we spent apart.
She runs her hands over the varnished oak with swirling patterns carved into the seat back around the name Fisher that I burned into the wood. It’s the most intricate design I’ve ever done and the first time I worked with wood burning and it came out pretty damn good.
“I can’t wait to show this to everyone. I’m going to put it right in the foyer so it will be the first thing people see when they walk in the door,” she tells me excitedly as she wraps her arms around me and gives me a big hug.