Dare Me Once

by Shelly Alexander

  She had him follow her back to the kitchen and pulled a chair to the counter. He clambered onto it, and she gave him a mixing bowl and a spoon. “You read up on how to do this?”

  He nodded and worked with painstaking diligence. When he was done, he scooped the smooth mixture into a shallow container and carried it to the bathroom.

  The cheeping stopped the second Ben set the food bowl into the tub. The other ducks edged Megan out.

  “Be right back.” Lily filled another container with food and brought it back to the bathroom to feed the weak duckling separately from the others.

  “They’re getting bigger, aren’t they?” Lily said. In fact, they’d doubled in size.

  “Miss Etheridge helped me find a library book with pictures. They’ll start getting real feathers soon.” Ben sat by the tub. “Megan is the only one that hasn’t gotten much bigger.”

  Lily studied the ducks. Ben was right; she was smaller than the others.

  Ben pointed to one of the ducks. “Sir Walter Raleigh is the biggest.” He named off each duck in order of size.

  Her gaze ping-ponged between the ducklings and Ben, amazed at how observant he was. “So, Ben, what do you think about changing Megan’s name to Molly?”

  His little body rocked. “But her name is Megan.”

  “Hmm.” Lily sat on the floor and pulled her knees to her chest. “I like the name Molly, though, don’t you?” Megan was actually fine with her, but Trace had insisted on renaming it for some reason.

  Ben shook his head and rocked.

  “Is there another name besides Molly and Megan you like?”

  “No,” he said and rocked harder. “Megan is her name. It wouldn’t be right to change it.”

  Lily wanted to rock back and forth too. Or maybe draw into a fetal position and suck her thumb. Because she knew firsthand how strange it was to change her name. “We can talk about it later. Want to take them out of the tub for exercise?”

  The rocking stopped, and Ben shot to his feet. In ten seconds flat, the ducks were following Ben around the den in a game of chase. He laughed and giggled as he slowed enough for them to catch up, then took off again. The only duckling that didn’t play along was Megan. She stayed by her food in the bathroom, sitting idly like she had no energy. Lily’s volunteer work at the wildlife rescue had taught her enough to know that something was wrong. She scooped Megan up and fished a knit cap out of her dresser drawer. She sat Megan inside of it and cuddled the tiny bird against her chest.

  While Ben and the ducklings circled the den, Lily used her phone to search for a vet on the island. Only one came up. Problem was, she had no way of traveling to town. She couldn’t ask anyone at the resort for a ride because it would get back to Trace, and he’d likely be upset with her for the worry and disappointment the duckling’s downward turn would cause Ben. More importantly, Lily didn’t want Ben to be worried or disappointed any more than his father did. She wanted to save the duck for Ben’s sake.

  “Hey, Ben, let’s put the ducks in their new home.”

  “Sure!” His voice was a squeal of joy as the ducklings waddled after him. He led them to the plastic container and gently scooped them up one at a time while Lily moved the lamp out of the bathroom.

  “Can you do me a favor?” she asked. “Do you happen to have an extra bicycle I could use?” She’d gotten most of the way to the resort on a tricycle; she could make it two miles into town on a bike. She’d moved here for independence. She’d take care of the situation herself without help from anyone, especially her boss.

  The man with a voice so sexy, her bra unhooked on its own every time she heard it.

  Gah!

  “There’s a girl’s bike in the boathouse,” Ben said.

  “Great. Could you get it for me?”

  As soon as he walked out, Lily dialed the vet. “Hi, I have an emergency. Can I bring a duckling in right away?”

  “We’re about to close, ma’am,” the receptionist clipped out.

  Lily glanced at the clock on her stove. Dang it. She hadn’t realized it was getting so late. “Please. I’m afraid it might not make it through the night. I have to try to save it.”

  The receptionist heaved out an annoyed sigh. “Hold a moment.” The line went quiet for an eternity.

  Ben threw open the door without knocking. “The bike’s out front!”

  Lily nodded and held her phone away from her mouth. “Thanks, Ben.”

  The line beeped as the receptionist picked up the call again. “Dr. Shaw will wait for you.”

  “Thank you. I’m on my way, um, but a bicycle is my only way to get to your office.”

  The receptionist drew in another exaggerated breath.

  “Tell Dr. Shaw I’ll pedal as fast as I can.” Lily hung up, grabbed her purse, and eased it over her head so it hung across her body.

  “Is Megan gonna be okay?” Ben rubbed his thighs. “Can I go with you?”

  Lily forced a brave smile. “Do you go to the doctor when you have a cold or fever?”

  Ben nodded.

  “Well, I think Megan . . . or Molly—”

  Ben scowled.

  “Or Megan probably has a cold, so I’m taking her to the vet to make sure. You can finish their pen while I’m gone, okay?” She hustled them both out the front door. “That way they’ll have a place to play outside when I get home instead of being cooped up indoors all the time. I bet staying inside gets boring, don’t you?” She tried to make light of the situation.

  Ben didn’t look any more convinced that Megan wasn’t seriously ill than Lily was.

  She straddled the bicycle, thankful it wasn’t a racing bike. It was more like a let’s-take-a-leisurely-ride-along-the-boardwalk kind of bike, and it had a wicker basket attached to the handlebars. The bird, still ensconced in Lily’s winter cap, fit perfectly.

  She looked up at the churning gray sky. Would she ever catch a break?

  Her dad used to say, “If life is easy, then you’re not having fun.” She should be having a freakin’ party by now. The kind of wild party New Orleans had every Fat Tuesday where the more adventurous tourists woke up in a strange place wearing nothing but colorful beads and a matching Mardi Gras mask.

  Then again, living by that philosophy had landed her father in a place where orange jumpsuits were mandatory.

  She grabbed both handlebars and flicked up the kickstand. “Ben, try not to worry.” She’d do enough worrying for both of them. All she could do was get Megan to the vet and hope for the best.

  Ben looked a little more optimistic.

  She pushed off and pedaled, trusting that this one time since she’d boarded the plane to move to Angel Fire Falls, the universe wouldn’t be against her.

  Chapter Nine

  LILY’S LIFE LESSON #9

  Sometimes it’s the little things in life.

  Trace had spent the past few days making runs to and from the mainland because the Cape’s only delivery company had decided not to deliver. Again. After the last run, he blew off steam at the vintage PAC-MAN machine in the back corner of the game room and waited for Ben. Meeting up after school for a game of pool was their father-son thing, and it wasn’t like Ben to miss it.

  Megan had called while Trace was in flight. A good excuse to let it go to voice mail. The insistent message she’d left about Ben staying the summer in Los Angeles had Trace’s blood pressure spiked to stroke level, especially since their son’s welfare wasn’t her real concern.

  Spence gave a victory shout from the other side of the room when he hit the bull’s-eye to beat Elliott at a game of darts. They came over and flanked Trace, each leaning against a machine.

  “So how awkward is it with Lily?” Spence asked.

  “Pretty darned.” Trace shifted and ran from a blue ghost. “Dad’s having her report to me. I’ve been busy making delivery runs, but I’ve got to make time to look at the new system she insists is good for the resort. Good thing is, I’ll know what changes she wants to make and can put
a stop to anything that might upset Ben. Bad thing is-” He quieted. There were so many, he wasn’t sure which one took priority. He reversed the chomping yellow circle’s course and escaped certain death.

  “You like her,” Spence finished Trace’s sentence.

  “Bite me,” Trace said.

  “Now see, that’s your problem, big brother.” Spence crossed his arms. “You’re asking me to bite you, when it’s Lily’s teeth marks you really want.”’

  “Change the subject, or I’ll shave your head while you sleep like I did when we were kids.” He wasn’t going to take the chance of trusting the wrong person again and putting himself or Ben at risk. “And I never want to hear another one of your childish dares again.”

  The PAC-MAN chewed up dots as Trace used the joystick to maneuver through the maze. Left then right, he gobbled up a power pellet and turned to face down a pink enemy ghost.

  He secretly named it Megan.

  “So we were in town at the Fallen Angel last night watching the fight over a beer.” Elliott hesitated. “We saw Megan’s commercial.”

  Trace focused on the game, determined not to lose to the ghost that chased him. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?” He shook his head at the absurdity of his ex working as the spokesperson for an autistic charity.

  “Uh, not that commercial.” Spence pulled at his Adam’s apple. That was never a good sign. “Apparently, she’s landed a network series.”

  Trace’s head jerked around. “What?”

  The spiraling sound of defeat caused him to turn a blank stare back on the game as the pink ghost chomped him to pieces.

  Go figure.

  Trace couldn’t let go of the joystick. His hold on it was so tight, it should’ve disintegrated in his hand.

  “Her acting must’ve improved,” Elliott said. “I mean, it doesn’t seem like my kind of show, but it’s a big step up from the laxative commercial. At least Ben won’t be teased over it.”

  Trace turned his back to the machine and leaned against it.

  “I’ll google it for you.” Spence pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. “Looks like Ben’s helping her career quite a bit.” He stared at the phone and both brows lifted.

  “What?” Trace reached for the cell.

  Spence held it out of reach. “I don’t think you want to see this.”

  “I don’t think you want your ass kicked.” Trace held out his hand.

  Spence leveled a serious look at him. “Fine, but I warned you.” He handed over the phone.

  The list of Megan’s interviews and articles on entertainment sites was so long, Trace had to thumb through them. He tapped on an interview given by her agent and read the first paragraph. Lead actress of next season’s most anticipated new series, Megan Remington was discovered through her goodwill efforts to draw awareness to the same disability her son suffers from . . .

  Steam billowed from his eye sockets.

  He handed the cell back to Spence and pulled out his own phone. Without a word, he punched in Megan’s number.

  “Hellooooow,” she answered with a new Garbo-esque accent.

  Trace ground his teeth into dust. “Megan, how dare you use our son-”

  “Dad!” Ben crashed through the door, barreling straight for Trace.

  The desperate look on Ben’s face set off Trace’s instinctive parental alert. For his son’s sake, he curbed the lecture he was about to deliver Megan. “I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone.

  “Trace-”

  He hung up without letting her finish. He’d spent years playing the peacemaker so that the pain of her rejection wouldn’t completely destroy their son. Trace was done being the nice guy who covered for her lack of interest.

  “What is it, buddy?” Trace shoved his phone in his pocket and held Ben’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  The way his chest heaved, he’d been running at full speed. “It’s Megan,” he panted.

  Why did that not surprise him? Trace stiffened. “What about your mother?”

  “No!” The panic in Ben’s voice rose. “Megan the duckie!” He hollered like Trace was dense for not knowing the difference. “She’s sick, and I was building a pen for them, but she wouldn’t eat and she hasn’t grown like the other duckies and Lily wanted to call her Molly, but Megan is her name . . . and . . .” His bottom lip puckered. “And . . .” A tear slid down his cheek.

  Trace pulled his son into a hug. When Ben buried his face in Trace’s midsection, he gave his two brothers a concerned look. “Shhhh.” Trace swayed gently to match Ben’s rocking. “It’s okay.” Trace’s gut had told him not to keep the ducks, but he hadn’t listened.

  Precisely why both the ducks and the women in his life should be kept at arm’s length.

  “Duck?” Elliott mouthed.

  “Named Megan?” Spence mouthed too.

  Trace nodded and made the signal for Tell you later.

  “I’ll go find Lily and check on the duck.” Trace stroked his son’s arms to help soothe his soaring anxiety.

  Ben shook his head and sniffed. “Lily’s taking Megan to the doctor. I gave her the bicycle in the boathouse.”

  What the hell? The only vet on the island was on the far side of Angel Fire Falls. “Lily is using a bicycle to take the duck to the vet?”

  Ben swiped the back of his hand under his nose and sniffled. “Yeah. She said she’d pedal fast.”

  Spence let out a snort of laughter but tried to hide it behind a cough.

  Trace’s eyes flitted between Ben and the pool table, and his brothers got the message.

  Spence ruffled Ben’s hair. “I just beat Uncle Elliott at darts. How about we make it a trouncing defeat and you wipe the floor with him at pool?”

  Ben swiped another tear away, but his countenance brightened, and he ran to the table. “I’ll break.”

  Trace dropped his voice and said to Spence, “I have an evening tour scheduled. Can you find the guests and reschedule for me?”

  “On it,” Spence said.

  Trace nodded a thank-you to his brothers and left Ben in good hands. He headed straight for the garage. Since he’d already been around the block with Lily Barns and her apparent obsession with traveling across the island using pedal-powered transportation, he searched the garage for a few bungee cords to strap the bicycle to the roof. He fired up a Jeep and kicked up dust as he backed out.

  It didn’t take long until she came into view. He slowed as he came up behind her. Her slender torso was bent over the handlebars, and she pedaled with the same determination as that first day when she’d arrived on the island. He’d allowed this woman to get under his thick skin and into his overactive imagination from the very first moment he’d heard her moan.

  He passed her and pulled off the road, trying hard to compose his emotions. She didn’t have kids. She didn’t understand what it was like to be disappointed and abandoned by a parent the way Megan had abandoned Ben. Trace had warned Lily about the ducks, but she likely didn’t have experience with Asperger’s and couldn’t have known how much damage they could cause.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d made similar excuses for Megan since Ben was born.

  He opened his eyes and looked into the rearview mirror as Lily slowed, her silky brown hair blowing every which way in the breeze. He got out of the Jeep, went around the back, and crossed his arms as she pulled to a stop in front of him.

  Her big brown eyes rounded, and the bike wobbled. She steadied it by putting her feet on the ground, and then she leaned forward to look in the basket.

  Trace squinted up at the thunderclouds. “Really?”

  “I, um . . . yeah.” She tucked a lock of hair behind one ear, the tremor of her hand barely visible.

  “You couldn’t just ask for a ride like a normal person?” He peered into the basket at the little bird nesting in a knit cap.

  “I knew you’d be pissed and worried about Ben, so I decided to handle it myself. I don’t want Ben to be hurt either.”


  She cared that much about his feelings? His kid’s feelings? No woman on the planet had shown that much concern over him or Ben. Certainly not his ex. Not even Trace’s mom, who’d been careless enough to go out for a boat ride without a life vest, even knowing she couldn’t swim very well. Knowing she had three young boys who needed her.

  Leaving Trace to feel responsible for his younger brothers.

  “And you thought the best solution was to carry a sick bird all the way into town on this old bicycle?” His mom’s old bike. “It’s so ancient, it could’ve throw a chain or gotten a flat.” Trace picked the bird up in its cap with a slow, steady hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to get to the vet because he’s staying open just to see Meg-”

  Trace couldn’t stop a scowl, which made Lily go quiet. He couldn’t blame her for the name. That was Ben’s doing, but it scratched at his ears like sandpaper anyway.

  “The vet’s waiting,” Lily said.

  “Get in.” He handed her the duck and grabbed the handlebars. “I’ve got the bike.” He had it strapped to the roof before she could get in the passenger seat. They were moving as soon as her door closed. “Do me a favor?”

  “Okay.” Her voice was small.

  “If you like leisurely bike rides, go for it. But when it’s really important, ask someone at the resort to drive you. We don’t mind.”

  “Thanks. Sorry. I just like taking care of myself.”

  Understandable. And admirable. “Then I’ll fly you to the Cape soon so you can get your license renewed.”

  She coughed and put a hand to her chest. “It’s not a priority. I’ll be sure to ask for a ride until I can make a trip to the mainland.”

  Something in her tone, her posture, her expression changed.

  Call it instinct, but for the second time that day Trace’s blood pressure spiked.

  Lily explained the whole story to the vet, starting with how she’d found the orphaned ducks on the road. Dr. Shaw was old, but he had a kind demeanor and a gentle touch with the duckling. He examined the tiny bird on a metal table in a private exam room.

  “Will Megan live?” Lily used the duck’s name since Trace was in the waiting room calling the resort to let Ben know they’d made it to the vet.