Love at First Light (Lost Harbor, Alaska Book 6)
Page 7
A wild idea flashed into her brain.
Her friendships were the cornerstone of her life. Her romantic relationships came and went—she always managed to screw those up—but when it came to her friends, she was always there. Especially for Maya.
What if there was a way she could have Maya’s back—and step out of her bubble?
Chapter Nine
“Celebrating something?”
The bartender at the Olde Salt—a lithe woman in a tight ribbed top with a graphic design of a raised middle finger on it—poured him another cherry soda.
“Yup. The end of my first day in Lost Harbor. Wasn’t sure I’d make it, but here we are.”
To tell the truth, it was hard to believe he’d only been here about twenty-four hours. A lot had happened in that time. Most of it, he’d rather forget.
“Uh…congratulations?” She lifted an eyebrow as she slid him a plastic dish of peanuts. “We don’t usually off our visitors on the first day. We like to wait until a bear comes along, or an orca. Mosquitoes, black flies, that sort of thing.”
“Great.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “Something to look forward to.” He downed it with a jaunty smile.
“You here on business or fishing?”
He couldn’t tell if she was flirting with him or just being bartender-friendly. Even though she was very attractive, with a short pixie cut emphasizing her cheekbones, he didn’t find himself drawn to her. Maybe the fact that he was engaged was finally sinking in.
“I guess you’d call it business.”
“Wait.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I recognize you. You’re Padric’s friend. You were here for the volunteer auction last year.”
“Good memory.”
“It’s a curse. I never forget a face, and with the faces I see in this place…” She gestured at the motley crew of weatherbeaten fishermen holding down the stools at the other end of the bar, “that’s unfortunate. Anyway, I’m Toni, just holler if you need a refill.”
He nodded and relaxed with his drink. The Olde Salt sat nearly at the end of the boardwalk, the long curving arm of the harbor filled with shops and restaurants that were open only in the summer. Most of them were shack-like storefronts, some on stilts planted in the mudflats below. But the Olde Salt had been built nearly a century ago, the oldest surviving structure around. With its weathered cedar siding and foundation sinking unevenly with the frost heaves, it looked every one of its eighty years.
Inside, very little light filtered through the small windows, which were darkened by years of smoke. Old ships’ lanterns hung from the low ceilings, occasionally bonking someone on the head if they stood up without looking. Vintage newspaper articles and sepia pioneer-era photos decorated the walls. He could just imagine the stories that had been told here over the years.
Old Crow, freshly showered and barely recognizable, waved at him from one of the tables, where he was playing chess with another elderly local.
Ethan signaled to Toni, and ordered Old Crow another of whatever he was drinking.
“Don’t bother,” she told him. “He hasn’t paid for a drink here in twenty years. It’s like a tourist attraction to buy Old Crow a drink.”
He chuckled at that. Apparently he’d gotten his own private viewing of one of Lost Harbor’s tourist attractions. Yes another thing he’d rather forget about today.
He swung around on the stool, facing the tables, and rested his elbows on the slightly sticky bar top. Might as well take in the local color while he had the chance. He planned to be hard at work on this case by six am tomorrow morning. The quicker he wrapped it up, the sooner he could fly back to LA and sort out things with Charley.
His stomach knotted at the thought. He had to find a way to communicate better with his future wife. He didn’t know much about marriage, but he was fairly sure communication was important. Olivia and Jake didn’t always agree, but they knew how to work things out. Then again, they were madly in love. He and Charley were more…practical.
The door of the Olde Salt opened, spilling a brief splash of light across the floor. A woman stood in the doorway, her curvy body backlit by the setting sun, outlining her figure in golden light. He blinked at the sight. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
And then the door slammed shut—it was an oak door with fancy forged hinges, heavy as hell—and Jessica Dixon from Sweet Harbor hurried toward the bar. He watched her approach, bemused by the fact that she seemed to be everywhere. One day in Lost Harbor, and he’d now seen her what, five or six times?
She’d changed into long buckled boots and tight jeans, with a fuzzy angora conductor’s hat perched on her head. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and several pendants and necklace chains adorned her neck.
She didn’t wait for her eyes to adjust to the relative darkness inside the saloon. In her headlong rush to the bar, she didn’t seem to notice him at first.
“Toni.” She cupped her hands together to project over the noise of the bar. “I have to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
But Toni was all the way at the other end of the bar, serving a crowd of excited charter boat passengers. She waved at Jessica, clearly unable to hear her.
“Mother-fu—“ Jessica caught herself, finally glancing around her and noticing Ethan. “Mother fun day is tomorrow,” she finished with a sweet smile. “Just planning how to celebrate.”
“Mother fun day is an important day,” he said gravely. “It’s one of the best holidays, almost as good as Groundhog Day.”
She rolled her eyes at him and plopped her butt onto the stool next to him. “So you made it to Happy Hour.”
“I missed Happy Hour, but it’s okay, I got here in plenty of time for the rest of them. You know, the more miserable ones. To go with the rest of the day.”
She glanced at his fizzy soda. “What are you drinking? Looks delicious.”
“A very masculine cherry soda.”
“Right, you said that you don’t drink. I won’t either, then.” She lowered her voice to a confidential murmur. “Toni always makes me try the most disgusting bottles, things that probably came from some shipwreck or something. This is the perfect excuse to take a pass.”
“Happy to help out.” He took a sip and noticed new lines of stress on her face since the last time he’d seen her at the B&B. “Everything okay?”
“Well, not entirely. I wanted to tell Toni first, but I might as well start with you. Maya’s father has to have heart surgery, so she’s on her way to Anchorage right now. She wanted me to tell you that she has to cancel the job.”
He cocked his head, certain that he’d heard that wrong. “Say what again?”
“The job, the search for S.G.’s family, it’s going to have to wait. You’re free. You can go back to LA. She said to send her an invoice.”
Back to LA? Already? An empty feeling stole over him. It didn’t feel right, canceling the investigation. His head was already in it. He had questions, he had lines of investigation to pursue. He was interested.
Face it. He didn’t want to go back yet.
Jessica was watching him curiously, her eyes the color of whisky in the low light. “I thought you’d be thrilled at this news. You didn’t seem to be enjoying your time here in Lost Harbor.”
“It’s had its challenges,” he admitted. “But I don’t like walking away from a job. How long does Maya think she’ll be in Anchorage?” Maybe he could take a few days to do some fishing here. A vacation. He’d told Charley he’d be gone for a week, after all.
“She doesn’t know, obviously. But even after the surgery, she’s going to have her hands full taking care of Harris.” She shook her head sadly. “I really hope that goes well. Maya has no patience for being sick. She’s never called in sick at the station in her entire career.”
“Heart surgery is a little past ‘sick,’” he pointed out.
“That’s true. And we’re talking about Harris Badger, and she’d do anything for him. Any
way, the point is, the case is closed, at least for now. At least…”
She hesitated, eyeing him sideways.
“What?”
“I had an idea. I wanted to talk to Toni about it first, but…”
Uh oh. Jessica seemed like someone whose ideas could easily lead to trouble. Case in point, her “prank” involving Old Crow and the shower.
Though with time, he could now see that it was pretty funny.
He sighed. “Go ahead. What’s your idea and does it involve me getting drenched or jailed?”
She screwed up her face and looked up at the ceiling. “I hope not?”
That made him laugh. “Okay, let’s hear it. What are you thinking?”
“Just promise me you won’t say ‘no’ right off the bat.” She rushed ahead before he could answer that. “Never mind, you probably will say no, but maybe you’ll think about it and that ‘no’ will magically transform into a ‘what a fabulous idea, Jess, let’s do it.’”
If nothing else, she had him intrigued. “This is going to be crazy, isn’t it?”
“There’s a good chance,” she admitted. “Toni would probably tell me to jump in the harbor instead of proposing this, but since she’s busy, here goes.”
“Go for it.”
She toyed with the bracelets on her wrist. “Here’s the thing. I just got a truth bomb dropped on me and it opened my eyes to some of my own personality flaws. I realized that I want to change a few things.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t want to list all my flaws, but basically it comes down to not being so head-in-the-clouds. I need to be more boots-on-the-ground.”
“Like an army?”
“What?”
“Boots on the ground, that usually means an army. Ground troops.”
She shuddered. “I don’t like that comparison. I’m a pacifist. But yes, I want to become more ground-based. A little more realist, a little less optimist.”
That thought made him a little sad, surprisingly. He liked her sunny personality. He hoped she didn’t want to change that as well.
“Okay, but I don’t see what any of this has to do with me. You’re going through some kind of personal transformation, good for you. Where do I come in?”
She inhaled a long breath, her chest rising and falling, bringing his attention to the deep V of her cleavage. No flirting. No ogling.
“I want to fill in for Maya. Just because she’s dealing with a medical crisis she shouldn’t have to abandon everything else.”
He stared at her blankly. “Fill in for her?”
“With the S.G. investigation. I’ve heard Maya talk about it enough times and I’ve heard all the gossip about S.G. That’s one thing about running a bakery, you hear all the juicy stuff. And to fill in the gaps, there’s the homework she gave you. I can be up to speed on the whole case in no time, and then we can get to work.” That bright smile of hers lit up the dank atmosphere of the bar. It made him slightly dizzy, as if someone had blindfolded him and whirled him around and around.
Every instinct told him this was a bad idea. She was a baker, not a detective. And she was too appealing for him to spend that much time with.
“Not happening,” he said flatly. “Maya’s the one who hired me. Now she wants me to go home, so I’m going home. Without her, there is no job.”
His rejection didn’t dim her enthusiasm at all. “I thought about this. I expected you to react this way. Don’t worry, I can pay you. I’ll pay you even more than what Maya offered.”
“My day rate is pretty high.”
He hadn’t actually planned to charge his full day rate, since he doubted that anyone in Lost Harbor could afford it, and he didn’t really need the money.
“I’m not worried about the cost. I’m doing this for Maya. She feels terrible about letting S.G. down. What harm could it do to let me help?”
“What if she wants to solve the mystery herself? Are you sure this is what she wants?”
Her shoulders slumped and for the first time she looked unsure of herself. “That’s a good point. She was really excited when S.G. asked her to find her family. I wouldn’t want to case-block her. That’s like cock-block, except with case,” she explained.
“Yeah, I got it.” He’d gotten it a little too quickly. Seeing her pretty, merrily curved lips form the word “cock” was like a direct message right to that part of his body.
She fell silent, tracing a pattern on the bar as she thought it over. Finally she shook her head. “She told me that she feels bad for S.G. and for wasting your time. That’s it. I don’t think she really cares who investigates the case. That’s why she called you in. Besides, we’ll simply be continuing what she started.”
“Why can’t you just ask her first?”
“I don’t want to bother her. She’s got enough to deal with. For once in Maya’s life, I want something to be taken care of without her having to manage it. If she knows I’m doing this, she’ll just worry and that’s the last thing she needs.”
This sounded like big trouble…so why was he so tempted to go along with it? Was it because of Jessica? That bright, hopeful smile and the way she always smelled like something delicious? Right now it was crystallized ginger.
Damn his improved sense of smell. It was making this more complicated than it needed to be.
“So you want me to not only continue this investigation but allow you to be part of it, even though you have no investigative experience or relevant skills and have a good chance of getting in my way and fucking it up.”
A flush came in a wave across her face. “That was mean.”
“Yeah, it was. We don’t know where this investigation is going to lead. Do you think everyone’s going to be watching out for your feelings along the way? Toughen up, buttercup.” He downed the last of his extremely masculine cherry soda.
For a long moment she gazed at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “You said ‘we,’” she said finally.
“Figure of speech. Means nothing.”
Still, a smile was dawning on her face, like the sun peeking over the horizon. “I think it does. You’re in, aren’t you?”
“Let me sleep on it. It’s been a long day. I’m in no shape to make decisions right now.”
“That’s fair.” Her amber eyes gleamed with amusement. “Has it occurred to you that I could try to investigate on my own? I read all the Nancy Drew books, every single one. I’ve helped Maya with a couple of cases. I’m pretty resourceful.”
“Then why’d you come to me?”
She lifted her chin. “Simple courtesy. But if you refuse, I might just go ahead on my own.”
“You think you’re that tough, huh?”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” She gave his drink a pointed glance. “If I drink cherry soda will I be as tough as you?”
He snorted. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you the real secret of my toughness.” Lord, he was talking as if this was going to continue for a while. What was up with that?
She must have caught on to that too, because the energy between them shifted into a different gear. Something fresh and exciting vibrated between them. He felt it all the way down to his gut. Not to mention his cock.
Jessica swallowed, sleek muscles moving in her throat. He wanted to touch that creamy skin.
The tension between them was broken by the arrival of Toni, who reached over the bar to give Jessica a hug. “What’s up, girl?”
“Ethan doesn’t think I’m tough. That’s what’s up.”
Toni looked between the two of them as she folded her arms across her chest. “Have you arm-wrestled him yet?”
“No, because I don’t want to injure a Sweet Harbor guest.” She planted one elbow on the bar and beckoned to Toni. “But I can challenge you. I know you can take it. You are a black belt, after all.”
With Toni’s lithe frame and general badass manner, Ethan would definitely put his money on her. How could a baker compete with a bartender for toughness?
“If I win, will you promise to seriously consider my proposal?” Jessica asked him. With her legs braced apart, one arm planted on the bar, the other resting on her hip, her auburn hair flowing down her back, fire in her eyes, he found her stance wildly arousing.
“And if you lose, will you drop it and let me go home?”
She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “Why do I get the sense you don’t really want to go home?”
Damn her and her “intuition.” “Just wrestle. Three, two, one…”
She must have been right, because after two minutes of muscle-straining struggle, when Jessica slammed Toni’s arm onto the bar to the raucous hollers of the crowd…he cheered right along with the rest of them.
Chapter Ten
Ethan finally located his missing phone the next morning. Somehow he’d managed to kick it under the four-poster bed, all the way into the farthest shadowy corner. The battery on his old flip phone had jarred loose and it was completely dead, so it took a while for him to get it operational again.
He spent the time doing the stretches that kept his leg limber. If he forgot them for even a day, the damaged muscles would tighten up. At least he could enjoy the view of Seafarer’s Beach at low tide as he worked out. The wet sand reflected silver light in the misty morning. Exposed underwater boulders shone dark against the wet sand. The occasional dog walker picked their way through clumps of seaweed and driftwood.
Finally his phone came back on with a flurry of beeps. He’d missed ten calls altogether—two from Maya, seven from Charley, and one just this morning from Dr. McGee.
Great. More pressure to go along with the virtual wedding, no doubt.
He clicked on the message from McGee.
“Good morning, Ethan. I’m sure by now you’ve spoken to Charlotte. If you need support in processing this shift, I encourage you to call on me. We can set up a video call if you check with my assistant.”