Friend stuff. Because they were friends. Old friends. Good friends. The kind of friend you wanted to catch a glimpse of whenever you could. The kind who made your pulse pick up. The kind you pretended you didn’t want to tumble into your bed.
Luckily, his work kept him quite busy. In a town like Lost Harbor, most people lived far outside the city limits. He spent an absurd amount of time driving to see his patients, and then making his way down long gravel roads to reach off-grid homesteads. Avoiding pet goats and piles of moose poop got to be second nature, as did delivering lectures on proper sanitation after using the outhouse.
Several of his patients were elderly with some great stories to tell about Lost Harbor and the earlier days of the town, before there was even a highway that led to it. He heard tales of how the mail used to come only once a month. Supplies arrived either by boat or small plane. In the old days, Misty Bay would freeze over and dog sleds would travel back and forth to Lost Souls Wilderness. Winter storms still battered the little harbor town, but according to the elders, they used to be even more massive and destructive.
From what he could tell, Lost Harborites were a rugged, independent lot who prided themselves on their ingenuity and ability to persevere. He respected the hell out of them—even if they tended to sport more facial hair than he was used to.
Some of his patients already knew details about him and Cara, such as the fact that they were living in Harris’ guesthouse. They asked after Harris’ health. They wanted to know how Cara liked the school so far.
The first time someone asked him about his sister, it worried him. It could be dangerous for too many people to know about them. It could make it that much easier for the stalker to locate them.
But in a town this small, there was no avoiding it, so he got used to the curious questions.
As he was currently telling Mrs. Holt, who’d gashed her arm during the search for her yak and needed help changing out her bandage, “If Cara could literally sleep at the high school, she would. That’s how much she loves it.”
“I hear they love her too. So many of the boys are already in love with her. Is she allowed to date?”
“She’s almost seventeen. If she wants to date someone, she can. But so far she’s just getting to know the community.”
That was the most tactful way he could put it. Cara had discovered her flirtatious side and had texts and phone calls coming into her burner phone at all hours of the day. He hoped it meant that she felt comfortable here in Lost Harbor, and that she was finally getting a taste of normal teenage life. It might not last long, after all.
“Ouch, that hurts,” Mrs. Holt complained as he gently unwrapped the bandage from her arm.
He eyed the wound, which was beginning to pucker around the edges. “It’s healing nicely. Good work, Mrs. Holt. I think we can leave off the antiseptic, but I’m going to rewrap this so you don’t bonk it while you go through your day. What’s the news on your yak?”
He offered the question as a way to distract her from his movements as he re-bandaged her arm.
“He’s just so ornery, that creature. I thought he’d be back by now. He’s probably on a bender somewhere. I’m used to that. He used to disappear for a few days and I always knew where to look. His boat.”
Right. The reincarnated yak. He humored her, since it certainly wasn’t his place to question her beliefs. “I suppose you’ve looked there already.”
“Lucas sold the boat. I wasn’t sorry to see it go. That boat caused me more trouble than I can say. You tell Harris we want him back at stitch-and-bitch as soon as he can. Otherwise we’re going to come to him.”
Everyone knew Maya and Harris. Every time he came back to the property, he had a handful of well-wishes to pass along—mixed in with some invitations. Potlucks. Cookie exchanges. Stitch-and-bitch meetings. Progressive dinners.
“What’s a progressive dinner?” he asked Maya as he delivered the invitation on a day in late October.
She was unwinding a scarf from her neck; he recognized Harris’ distinctive color choices. Yellow and purple always showed up in his knitted projects. Maya hung her coat and scarf on the coatrack and patted her hair back into its proper shape.
“Don’t tell me someone roped you into one of those.”
“You, not me. Don’t worry, I accepted on your behalf.”
She turned her best death glare on him, but he just stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled jauntily. “What’s the matter? It sounds fun, whatever it is.”
“How can you say it sounds fun when you don’t even know what it is?”
“Because it has the word ‘dinner’ in it. You could use a meal out. You work all the time.”
She ran a hand across her forehead, as if smoothing out the skin. Not that it needed smoothing; her skin was perfect, in his opinion. “Maybe, but that’s not a meal out. That’s a meal in which I have to cook something. How’s Dad?”
“He’s watching Antiques Roadshow, so he might be getting a little riled up. On the bright side, he had a haircut. That always puts him in a good mood.”
Maya frowned slightly. “Vicki came today? That’s like the third time since he got back. He doesn’t get his hair cut that often.”
“She says she doesn’t mind making house calls, when it’s for a handsome veteran like Harris. Honestly, I think I noticed some sparks.”
An expression almost like panic flashed across her face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Did Maya have a problem with her father’s hair stylist? In Rune’s view, Vicki was a kind, vivacious woman who seemed to really care about Harris. She’d brought him a cranberry muffin from Sweet Harbor Bakery and a decaf latte with extra foam. He’d lit up with the biggest smile Rune had seen yet.
He changed the subject. “So what did I sign you up for without realizing it?”
“A progressive dinner is when you go from one house to another and each host serves a different course. Appetizers at one place, cocktails at another, dessert, after-dinner drinks, on and on. It’s a nightmare for those of us who like to eat and move on with our lives. I don’t have time to draw a meal out over an entire evening.” She poked him in the chest. “You have to get me out of it.”
“Are you sure? Because you could still use some social in your life. All I ever see you do is work.”
“That’s completely untrue. I just came from a drink with Toni at the Olde Salt.”
A-ha. That was why she seemed more…unfocussed than usual. A little softer around the edges. Looking at him a little bit differently than usual. As if she was seeing grown-up Rune instead of little boy Jay-Jay.
Occasionally he caught spontaneous flashes like that from her. To be honest, he lived for those moments.
“Cool. I mean, it’s no Antiques Roadshow but—”
From the living room, they both heard Harris shout, “Too low, you idiot! Too damn low.” Maya let out a giggle, which was a surprisingly girlish and endearing sound for her to make.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” she said, tugging him by the elbow into Harris’ kitchen.
“Still mad about that dinner invite? Because I didn’t actually accept it for you. I was just seeing if I could trick you into actually doing something fun for yourself.”
She waved a hand at him as she opened the fridge and took out a pitcher of Kool-Aid. Harris loved his Kool-Aid, though Maya was more of a soda drinker. She poured herself a glass and guzzled it down. “Not necessary. I’m in charge of my own fun.”
“Then you might want to fire yourself. Maya, remember how much fun we used to have in Hawaii?”
“When we were kids and had no responsibilities, you mean?” She washed out her glass and stuck it on the drying rack.
“We all have responsibilities,” he pointed out. “It doesn’t mean we have to take everything so seriously.”
“But that’s you. You always were the best at goofing around. I was the good girl. Still am.” She smiled at him smugly and hoisted he
rself up on Harris’ counter. “Except when I’m breaking my father’s rules in his own house. It’s a good thing he’s busy yelling at his TV screen right now.”
“You rebel. I should report you to the authorities.”
Her lips quirked. He loved watching the way his teasing affected her. It was almost as if no one really joked around with her anymore. They were all too daunted by her position as police chief.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” He propped his hip against the counter. “I have to pick up Cara soon, but I have a few minutes.”
“Where’s Cara?”
“She has a new friend. Maggie, the girl from Lost Souls Wilderness. Maggie’s showing her the wonders of this thing called a cheeseburger at the Burger Queen. Cara’s playing along like she’s never seen one before. She’s such a good sport, my sis.” He waited for her to say more. “Are you stalling?”
She swung her legs against the counter, her stockinged feet hitting the side. Harris didn’t allow shoes in his house, so everyone either wore house slippers or socks. He also didn’t care for bare feet, which had upset Cara the first time she’d waltzed in after fishing on the dock.
“A little bit,” she admitted. She started to say something, then stopped, then shook her head at herself, then tried again. “You’re still good with boats, right?”
He lifted his eyebrows. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting her to say. “Yes, of course. Boats, paddleboards, fins, anything ocean-related. What do you need?”
“I need someone to pilot a boat around a few of the coves across the bay. I don’t want word getting out to anyone.” She hesitated before continuing. “It’s connected to the Lost Souls investigation.”
Oh. So this was a work-related situation. That was disappointing. But if that was what it took for Maya to stop avoiding him, he’d take it. He really missed the old days when he and Maya had been two peas in a pod, playing on the beach and drinking water straight from the coconuts. He remembered so much laughter and telling of secrets and just all-around joy. What would it take to bring back that kind of connection to Maya?
“Whatever you need,” he told her. “Working around my schedule, of course. Do you have a boat in mind?”
“We can use Dad’s. It would make him ridiculously happy if we did, actually. He never understood why I didn’t follow in his boat-crazy footsteps.”
“Are you going to fill me in on our mission?”
“It’s on a need-to-know basis.” She rolled her shoulders to release tension.
“Got it. So that’s it? That’s all you wanted to ask me?” He got the feeling that wasn’t what she’d intended to ask him at first. But he knew from the old days that Maya did things when she was good and ready, and not before.
“Should there be something else?”
“You could ask for a little help with those tight trapezius muscles.”
Her dark eyes flew to his, surprised.
He flexed his hands out in front of him. “Come on, let me get some of those kinks out for you. You can try out my nursing skills for yourself.”
He thought she might decline, based on the walls she kept putting up. But she must have really needed a shoulder rub, because she stepped in front of him and turned her back. Gently he moved her hair over one shoulder.
“Remember the time I put those puffs in your hair?” he asked as he placed his hands on her shoulders. So finely formed, those shoulders. Almost a work of art. With his thumbs, he tested the tautness of her tendons. Ouch. She could definitely use his help.
“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard,” she murmured. “I came out of there looking like a mutant hedgehog that got caught in a storm.”
He started gently, stroking the slope of her neck down to the shoulder joint. She relaxed under the touch and let out a sigh. “That feels great, Rune. But don’t you have something else you should be doing now? I’m not your patient.”
“Right now you are,” he said firmly. “Haven’t you heard about caretaker fatigue? You can’t tend to your father if you don’t take care of yourself. Just relax.”
“What about Cara? Don’t you have to pick her up?”
“I’ll let you know when I have to go. She and Maggie are probably making friends with the crows begging for French fries. She’s going to text me when she’s ready.”
Maya dipped her head so her chin met her chest, exposing more of the smooth brown lines of her neck. He switched his attention to the two tendons that ran up to her occipital muscle. Stroke, knead, release.
He propped his rear against the kitchen counter and drew her along with him. She allowed herself to be pulled closer, so they were separated by a bare inch or so. Her skin felt so satiny under his stroking, and he found huge satisfaction in the way her tight muscles relaxed.
She deserved a back rub every damn night. Someone in her life should be on full-time back rub duty.
With a pang, he knew that person couldn’t be him. Time was already ticking away. Any day now they might see some sign that the stalker had located them.
He shoved the thought away and focused on the delightful task in front of him. When that man showed up, he’d deal with it. Until then, he was going to enjoy every second he got to spend with his childhood buddy.
Funny thing, though. If Maya was just a childhood buddy, would he be feeling desire spread through his system like a slow infusion of top-shelf brandy? Would his cock be stirring to life?
Get a grip. You’re a nurse right now. Not a teenage boy hot for a girl. Distract yourself.
“Why’d you decide to become a police officer?” he asked her. “It’s like you picked the most stressful job you could find in a place that’s mostly peace and quiet.”
“Ha. It wasn’t about the stress. It was about the challenge.” Her voice was low and husky, almost dreamy, and it sent another shot of desire into his veins. “It’s actually kind of dumb, but there was this kid in high school who tried to bully me. He was pretty racist, to be honest. We despised each other.”
He tensed at the thought of someone bullying Maya. “Is he still in town? Can I beat his ass?”
She shook her head slightly. “He’s different now. He wrecked his car and it really messed him up. Recovery was a bitch, but he came out with a new attitude. Very lovey and tearful. He actually apologized to me for the shit he did in high school.”
“I’ve see that kind of thing happen.” He moved his hands to the front of her shoulders. “A medical crisis can really change a person. Not always, but sometimes.”
“Yeah.” She moaned as he worked on the pressure point at the tip of her shoulder joint. “That’s fricking amazing, Rune. I could fall asleep standing right here.”
He smiled, picturing himself carrying her to the couch. Or maybe even to his car so he could drive her home. Where they’d be alone.
Until Cara texted and he had to leave.
“Don’t sleep yet. Go on with your story.”
“Right. So they held a job fair at our high school, and the Lost Harbor police gave a pretty decent presentation. My nemesis was super-interested in applying, and I thought about what it would be like if he was the face of law and order in Lost Harbor. It would have been terrible. So after he’d moved on to the fish-processing table, I talked to the LHPD. They had these aptitude tests we could fill out. They told me I scored better than anyone. They wanted to recruit me. And they told the bully dude that he’d be better off fishing. So they showed me where to sign up for a training program in Anchorage and offered me a job.”
“And you liked it? I always thought you’d be a writer because of all the books you read.”
She laughed—probably at the doubt in his voice. “I liked it a lot. I was good at it. Really good. It pushed my buttons for two reasons. I like being the voice of reason and authority. Always have.”
“Won’t argue with that. If I’d listened to you, I wouldn’t have a jellyfish scar on my belly.”
“You still have that?”
He bit back the urge to offer to prove it. With Maya and her barriers, he had to be careful.
“What’s the other reason?”
“Whatever I did, I wanted to be excellent at it. I wanted respect, you know?”
“You definitely have that.”
“Yeah. It took some work, but I got there.” He loved hearing the pride in her voice. “It helped that everyone knew my father. The Coast Guard gets a lot of love around here…” She trailed off as he angled her head down to massage the last traces of tension at the base of her skull. Instead of words, she let out a moan of appreciation.
Since she couldn’t see him, he allowed himself a smug grin. Police Chief Maya Badger might be an independent woman who prided herself on keeping her cool—but she liked a good back massage as much as anyone.
“What about you?” she murmured. “You like being a nurse?”
His phone beeped, breaking the moment. “We can talk about that later.” Reluctantly, he withdrew his hands from her warm skin. “I have to pick up Cara.”
Maya lifted her head and turned it from side to side. “So much better. Thank you, Rune. You know she’s old enough to drive herself in Alaska, right?”
“We’re looking into it. I don’t like the idea of her driving alone.”
Her eyes, the deep dark color of honey melting under the sun, captured his, their expression unreadable. He thought he detected sensuality in her gaze, but that could have been wishful thinking. “Tough to be your sister’s twenty-four-hour guardian.”
He shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t think of it as “tough.” It was just the way things were. The way they had to be.
“See you soon, Maya. Call me when it’s time for your secret boat mission.”
He headed for the Arctic entry and collected his jacket from the peg. She followed after him, padding across the floor in her striped socks. “Don’t say anything about that, okay? Not even to Cara. I want to keep this entirely off the town radar. That’s why I need you.”
“Got it.”
So that was why she needed him. Not because she trusted him or wanted to get him alone in an ocean-going vessel. But because he wasn’t part of the town grapevine.
Head over Heels for the Holidays Page 6
