Lies and Weddings(50)
Bea gave Eden a curious look. “So…nothing happened between you and my brother? Not even during your midnight shower?”
“I was in Rufus’s shower alone. I was trying to thaw my limbs after that damned ice ball!” Eden sputtered in frustration. “Bea, you were there, you know what insanity the whole week was. I promise you nothing happened.”
Bea believed her friend. “I suppose you were shocked by Rufus’s declaration?”
“Of course I was! But I also know your brother much better than he knows himself. He’s such a romantic, and we were in the midst of the most wildly magical week. Between the sunset beach ceremony and the rain forest dinner, Rufus got swept up in the moment and…you know…confused about his own feelings.”
Bea let out a sigh. “Poor Rufus. He’s always been a rather confused boy, hasn’t he? I mean, how could he possibly fall for you of all people? You’re practically a sister to him. And doesn’t he text you a million times a day? It’s completely absurd.”
“Completely absurd,” Eden agreed, trying to convince herself as she nodded.
“Well, I’m glad we cleared things up. I can defend you to the death now!”
“I wish you needn’t.”
Bea got up from the sofa reluctantly. “Look, Mummy will come to her senses eventually, but in the meantime, it might be best to…um…lie low till things have calmed down a bit.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” Eden said, giving Bea a tight hug as she left the cottage.
A short while later, Eden’s phone dinged with a text message from Rufus, the first one she’d received from him since that night on the Big Island…
RUFUS GRESHAM: Aloha.
EDEN TONG: Aloha.
RG: Sorry for the silence.
ET: No need to apologize. I know you’re dealing with a lot.
RG: Yeah, been helping my father settle everything. Between the fire department and Hawaii Civil Defense, it’s been a rotten mess at the resort.
ET: I’m so sorry. At least no one was hurt.
RG: Thank god for that. Isn’t it strange…when the lava is done doing its thing, it will be like Mum’s resort was never there. It’s sort of poetic in a way.
ET: You seem okay with that.
RG: I’m managing. I’ve been surfing, thinking, talking to the turtles.
ET: How are the turtles?
RG: Never better. There was a HUGE one on the beach this morning. Must have been a meter and a half long, just napping in the sun.
ET: Wish I could have spent more time in Puako. I miss the turtles.
RG: And they miss you. And I miss you. I’m sorry for how I acted that night at the wedding.
ET: It’s fine.
RG: I behaved very inappropriately.
ET: Really okay.
RG: No it’s not! It really wasn’t fair to you and I feel terrible about everything.
ET: Don’t. Everything’s fine.
RG: You are the last person I ever want to hurt.
ET: I’m not hurt.
RG: Whew. So relieved.
ET: Good. I’m relieved too.
RG: I’m coming home on Friday.
ET: Great.
RG: Dinner maybe?
ET: Sure.
RG: Or maybe a drive somewhere on Sat?
ET: Might have to work in the morning, but I’ll be free by one.
RG: Ok. See you soon.
ET: Safe travels.
RG: Thanks.
Eden felt a wave of relief wash over her. She’d thought things were going to be weird between them after his confession, but thankfully this exchange didn’t feel too uncomfortable. In fact, it felt pretty close to normal. She was so glad Rufus seemed to be coming back to his senses. She desperately wanted everything to go back to normal between them again. She missed their morning texts so much. She wanted her best friend back. She couldn’t stop replaying that scene at the wedding banquet over and over again. She felt her stomach tighten as she was suddenly transported back to the moment Rufus embraced her without warning, back to the sensation of his soft, sweet mouth against hers, the dewy tropical ferns grazing her bare shoulders as she dug her fingers into the sculpted muscles on his back, the seismic spark shooting from her lips right into the pit of her belly, burning so hot she didn’t even notice the forest catching fire all around them. No, no, no, no, no. She needed to stop all this nonsense. She needed to forget everything that had happened in that rain forest.
V
SIR JOHN SOANE’S HOUSE
13 LINCOLN’S INN FIELDS, LONDON ? A FEW DAYS LATER
“The Canalettos are marvelous, aren’t they? I could look at them all day, and imagine I’m standing in the Piazza San Marco surrounded by pigeons,” the friendly silver-haired docent said to Arabella as he gestured to a painting hung salon-style with other masterpieces from floor to ceiling in the room.
“Could you open this panel, please?” Arabella asked.
“Ah, you’ve been here before, then,” the docent said, looking pleased that this lady knew about the remarkable feature of the Picture Room. Sir John Soane, the architect and collector who had built this house for himself in 1808, designed special “picture planes”—ingenious wall panels that moved and flipped open—allowing him to double his hanging space and fill the small thirteen-by-twelve-foot room with over a hundred of his favorite paintings. The docent released a catch, opening the wall like a secret cupboard door to reveal an interior panel chock-full of art.