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by Tess Thompson

  Truth was, Brody was the heart of their group. Without him, Jackson suspected the entire dynamic would fall apart. He was a born leader and, whether any of them liked to admit it, good-looking, smart, and humble. Kara said no one should be given that much talent and beauty in one lifetime. Whether it was fair or not, the man recently threw a sixty-yard pass to win the Super Bowl.

  His twenty-million-dollar-a-year contract helped him build this house that overlooked the ocean. Not only had he built suites for his mother and their longtime housekeeper, Flora, but he’d also made sure to build a man cave for the Dogs’ poker games and to watch sports, including Brody’s games during football season. With dark walls and bulky, masculine furniture, the room was like a commercial for bourbon and tobacco. In one section of the room, a wraparound sofa faced a giant, flat-screen television. On the other end, a round table with five chairs had been custom built for the five Dogs.

  Tonight, the scent of the sea and freshly cut grass drifted in through the open windows and mingled with the smells of leather and expensive booze. Brody and Kyle each had a tumbler of Glenlivet scotch. Zane sipped from his usual vodka on the rocks with a squeeze of lime. Jackson had a glass of a Paso Robles Cabernet. Yes, he was a wine snob, which could be blamed on his father.

  “I raise you one,” Jackson said.

  “Good hand, Doctor Waller?” Brody tossed in two chips. “I raise you another one.”

  “It’s creepy when you call me Doctor Waller,” Jackson said.

  “You sound like you have a crush on him,” Kyle said. He also tossed in two chips.

  Brody smiled. “I do have a crush on him.” When Brody smiled, his face transformed from intense to striking. He’d been doing a lot of smiling since becoming engaged to Kara.

  “Doesn’t the whole town? Oh, Doctor Waller, can you look at the rash on my arm?” Zane fluttered his eyelashes as he slid two chips across the table and into the pot. “I think you need to rub some ointment on it. Maybe back at my place?”

  “Aren’t you talking about yourself, Shaw?” Jackson asked. “You haven’t deluded yourself into thinking women are coming into The Oar for the food?”

  “You know it’s my food,” Zane said. “My rock-hard abs are just a bonus.”

  Jackson looked at Zane. One hand held his cards. The other rested on the table. No movement. Zane could keep a stoic expression while riding the toughest wave, and he ran his bar and grill without ever breaking a sweat. In addition, truth be told, his restaurant’s food was fantastic. That said, he was a terrible poker player. He gave himself away when he had a good hand by tapping his fingertips against the tabletop like a miniature drum roll. Every single time. In typical Dog style, no one had ever pointed this out to him, which is why he hardly ever won a game. When he did, it was usually for a small pot. They knew to fold when they saw those fingers start to tap.

  “I raise you,” Jackson said. Three chips. This was going to cost him if someone had a better hand.

  “It’s definitely Zane’s pretty face bringing them into the bar,” Kyle said. “Did you see that group of girls at the back table last night? Every time you walked by, I thought the brunette was going to faint.”

  “I heard one of them squealing about your eyes,” Brody said, matching the bet. “She called them turquoise, as if that’s a real eye color.”

  Zane rolled his said turquoise eyes as he tossed more chips into the pot. “You guys exaggerate. Plus, those ladies were barely old enough to drink, which makes them too young for us.”

  “Twenty-one’s legal, man,” Kyle said.

  “We’re thirty, in case you’ve forgotten,” Jackson said.

  “I refuse to acknowledge this blasphemy,” Kyle said. “Anyway, age is merely a number.”

  “Have you heard of the Peter Pan syndrome?” Brody asked. “You might look into it.”

  “I never look into anything called a syndrome,” Kyle said.

  Jackson studied Kyle. What kind of hand did he have? The jerk almost always won.

  Kyle raised an eyebrow and winked at him. “You know you can’t read me for crap.”

  “I can,” Jackson said. “Like a book.”

  “No one can read me. Years of dedication and practicing my poker face in the mirror has made me who I am.” Raised in poverty, Kyle was making up for it in adulthood by buying up half of California as a real estate developer. His latest venture was a new resort here in town.

  “That’s probably true,” Zane said. “As much as it disgusts me to imagine how many hours a day you spend looking at yourself.”

  “Hold on there, pretty boy,” Kyle said to Zane. “I recall a certain roommate who used to spend hours fixing his hair.”

  “That’s a lie and you know it.” Zane grinned and pointed to his sun-kissed blond curls. “This is just natural beauty.”

  “You are pretty,” Kyle said. “If only you’d use your good looks for good. Me, I use mine to give pleasure to as many women as I can.”

  “Oh, brother,” Brody said as he rolled his eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong. Giving pleasure to one woman—the woman is where it’s at.”

  “And deny the rest of them?” Kyle ran his hands down his muscular torso. “That would just be cruel.”

  “No one likes a braggart,” Jackson said. Kyle wasn’t bragging. His angular face, patrician nose, and dark blue eyes that glittered with intelligence and curiosity caught women’s attention. However, it was his utter self-confidence and wit that made women fall into his arms without a thought to the heartbreak waiting around the corner the moment they hinted of any real feelings. Kyle was a cad of the first degree.

  “You do look better now that you pay someone at Nordstrom to dress you,” Zane said.

  “Rachel is her name and she’s very clever,” Kyle said.

  “She’d have to be, given the raw material,” Brody said.

  When they’d first met as freshman at USC, Kyle had been skinny and nerdy. Now, a dedication to fitness and a personal shopper at Nordstrom had transformed him from nerdy to smoldering.

  “Very funny. Zane, you should call Rachel immediately for help,” Kyle said. “If you ever want to dress like an adult instead of an overgrown surfer dude.”

  “I will never dress like an adult again,” Zane said. “I burned my suits when I left L.A. I have no interest in looking slick.”

  “Except for my wedding,” Brody said.

  “Right. For Kara, I will make an exception,” Zane said. “It’s not every day I’m asked to walk a beautiful bride down the aisle.”

  “I’m not slick, by the way. Some woman called me wolfish the other night,” Kyle said.

  “Wolfish? I don’t think that was a compliment,” Brody said, laughing.

  “Really? I liked it,” Kyle said. “It made me feel dangerous.”

  “Speaking of dangerous, it’s time to face the music, boys.” Jackson displayed his poker hand on the table. The Dogs made various noises of disgust.

  Jackson smiled as he scooped the winning chips into his pile. “It’s fun to win.”

  “It happens so seldom, though,” Kyle said.

  “Maybe this is the start of a new chapter for me,” Jackson said. Four of the five Dogs were here, which lifted his spirits. Lance, Brody’s younger brother, was the only Dog missing. He was in New York working on Wall Street. Hopefully, they would see him next month for Flora and Dax’s wedding. Although, no one could win against Lance. He had a photographic memory and Jackson suspected an ability to count cards. If Lance were a less ethical man, he would be in Vegas right now beating the house.

  A new chapter? That’s what he needed. But could he make one?

  “You okay, buddy?” Zane asked him.

  Jackson looked up. “Me? Sure, yeah. Fine.”

  “We know what today is,” Brody said. “You doing all right?”

  “It’s okay if you’re not,” Kyle said.

  Jackson looked at him, surprised. Kyle was usually the first to run when a conversation turne
d serious. “I’m struggling a little.” The understatement of the century. “She would’ve turned thirty today.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Zane said.

  “I should be better than I am,” Jackson said. “No one grieves this long unless they’re a little screwed in the head.”

  “You loved her very much,” Brody said. “And today’s her birthday. I understand, now that I love Kara. To lose her might kill me.”

  “It’s been twelve years,” Jackson said.

  “What does your therapist think?” Brody asked.

  Jackson shrugged and sipped from his glass. The wine tasted bitter tonight. “She thinks I’ve never fully believed that Maggie was dead, therefore I haven’t moved on like I should.”

  “What kind of half-cocked theory is that?” Zane asked.

  “Right?” Kyle said. “You know she’s dead. You just wish she wasn’t.”

  “Anyway, there’s no instruction manual on grief,” Brody said. “I still miss my dad every single day.”

  The urge to confess his fears trampled all reason, all self-preservation. If he could tell anyone the truth, it was the Dogs. “I’ve been seeing her everywhere. Since I moved back here. Any woman with red hair—my mind thinks she’s Maggie. This is not normal, guys.”

  “It’s just because you’re back here,” Kyle said. “When I went home a few years ago, it felt like my mom was around every corner. And she’s been gone a long time.”

  “Sure. It’s all the memories here,” Zane said. “Stirring things up.”

  “The ring I bought for Sharon’s been sitting in my desk drawer for months,” Jackson said. “I need to ask her. She’s expecting me to ask her. The longer I put it off, the less fair it is to her.”

  The room went silent. No one would meet his gaze.

  Finally, Zane spoke. “There’s no rush. No timeline.”

  “Proposing to her isn’t going to make you miss Maggie any less,” Kyle said.

  Again, Kyle surprised him. What did he know about missing someone?

  “It might,” Jackson said. “Like a line in the sand for my mind. I love Sharon. She’s amazing. You all know that.” Sharon Fox was a research doctor who looked like a supermodel. She loved Jackson despite how he’d strung her along for years. Heck, they’d been friends for six years before she convinced him to become involved romantically. “She’s hung in there for a long time.”

  “What about her job in L.A.?” Brody asked. “I thought she didn’t want to move here.”

  “She told me she will—if there’s a ring on her finger,” Jackson said. “She’ll commute to a university in San Francisco once she secures another position.”

  “I don’t think she’ll like it here,” Zane said.

  “What’s not to like?” Jackson asked.

  No one spoke for a few seconds. Kyle plucked strips of the paper label from his beer bottle. Brody drank down the entirety of his scotch. Zane clasped his hands behind his head and stared at the light fixture that hung over the table.

  “What is it?” Jackson asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “We want you to be happy,” Zane said.

  “I want that too,” Jackson said. I don’t want to slowly lose my mind. “Sometimes I wonder if coming back here was a mistake.”

  “No way, man. This was your plan since we were kids,” Zane said.

  Maggie was my plan, too. And look what happened there.

  “Maybe you’re right. It’s just being back here. All the memories.” Jackson smiled to assure them he was fine, but his dry mouth stretched painfully against his teeth.

  “They’ll fade,” Zane said. “I’m sure of it.”

  “I’m going to marry Sharon. I owe her that much,” Jackson said. “And I need to know you guys are on my side.”

  “Of course we are,” Kyle said. “Thick and thin, like we always promised.”

  “No matter what,” Brody said.

  “Sure. Whatever you decide, we’ll get behind it a hundred percent,” Zane said.

  Kyle raised his glass. “To the Dogs. We have one another’s backs. No matter what goes down.”

  “Always,” they repeated as they clinked glasses.

  “Now somebody deal,” Kyle said. “I’m in the mood to win.”

  The next day, Jackson finished putting the cast on three-year-old Dakota Ellis’s arm. “All done, buddy. You did a fantastic job of staying still.”

  Dakota grinned. “Mommy said to.”

  His mother, Violet, sat in the chair with the same worried expression they’d come in with, even though her son’s tears had long since dried. Jackson knew a thing or two about worry.

  “Now, off you go. Ask Nurse Kara for a lollipop while I talk to your mom for a minute,” Jackson said as he scooped the little boy off the table.

  Dakota headed out the door, staring at his cast.

  Jackson turned back to Violet. “There’s no need to look so worried. He’ll be good as new in a month.”

  “It’s not that so much as, well, I’m struggling. Money-wise.”

  “Is business slow?” he asked.

  Violet owned a shop in town that sold goods made from refurbished items, like tires into purses and so forth. Jackson had bought a bracelet made from chicken wire for Sharon. It had not gone over well.

  Violet also headed up the committee in town with a sole purpose to protect the historical parts of town from development.

  “My rent at the shop is too high compared to what I’m able to sell things for,” Violet said. “If my parents hadn’t moved to their vacation place in South America and left me their house here, I’d be in deep trouble. Still, with self-employment taxes, property taxes, not to mention the price of health insurance—I’m barely making it. A broken arm wasn’t in the budget.” Violet’s bottom lip trembled. “Do you guys have payment plans?”

  “We can, but insurance will cover most of this,” he said.

  “Not my insurance. My deductible’s six thousand dollars before they pay a dime. I have to pay over five hundred a month for our premiums, and I make too much to get a government subsidy for Dakota.” She wiped under her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired.”

  “Don’t apologize.” How was she supposed to get ahead when the system was rigged against her? “Anyway, you’re in luck. We happen to have a special running this month on little boy’s broken arms. They’re free with a purchase of a lollipop.”

  “Jackson, no. I can’t take your charity.”

  His mother, who had run the office when Jackson was a kid, had conveniently forgotten to bill people for visits if she knew they were struggling financially. “You let me know when things are looking up and we’ll bill you then.”

  “I won’t forget,” she said.

  “I’m not worried.”

  Violet tucked her long, honey-hued hair behind both ears and lifted the corners of her mouth in a sad smile. “It’s been a rough few years.” Despite it all, Violet was even prettier than she’d been in high school, with hair the color of honey and small, delicate features. As Kyle had pointed out the first time he was introduced to her, she had a beautiful figure, thanks to yoga. Although, beautiful figure wasn’t exactly how Kyle had described her. He’d said something more along the lines of sizzling hot body, if Jackson recalled correctly.

  However, Kyle’s admiration of Violet was short-lived. She was a zealot when it came to their little town, crusading to keep the town historically pure, which created a massive conflict with Kyle. She did not approve of new construction, especially a large resort, and was not shy about expressing her displeasure. Usually with a picket sign.

  “How’s Sharon? Have you convinced her to move here yet?” Violet asked.

  “She’s been pretty clear that a proposal equals her commitment to moving.” He kept his voice light.

  “Well, it’s a big step,” Violet said.

  “Yes. It is. Very much so.” He cringed at the uncertainty in his voice.

  “I’m happy for you.”


  Jackson scratched his neck under the stiff collar of his button-down shirt. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone special?”

  “No. I have Dakota, so you know, not much chance I’ll attract anyone decent. Way too much baggage.”

  “Everyone has baggage. Don’t give up on love. You’re a catch, with or without your adorable boy. Some guy’s going to be lucky to have you.”

  Violet rose from the chair and smoothed the front of her cotton sundress. “Thanks, Jackson. I didn’t realize a pep talk was an additional service you provide.”

  “Anytime. Now go open your shop. Town’s practically crawling with tourists today.”

  After he escorted Violet out to the lobby, he went into his office and opened his desk drawer. A small box nestled next to freshly sharpened pencils. He opened it; the diamond ring sparkled under the lights. Just do it.

  His pulse quickened to the pace of a hummingbird’s wings. Sharon was a good woman. Even if he had to keep reminding himself, he was a lucky man. Nothing good ever came from his overanalysis. Or did it? Never mind. He must stop this nonsense.

  It was time. He had to propose to Sharon and make it official. Time to grow up and start a family. Move forward with someone else. Finally.

  For lunch, Jackson and Kara ate sandwiches in his office. Jackson had his feet up on the desk. Kara sat in the armchair across from him with her food spread out on her lap.

  Their former nurse had retired. Jackson suspected due to the young Doctor Waller’s presence. She hadn’t liked change, which was just fine with him. He and his father had jumped at the opportunity to hire Kara, not only because she was engaged to Brody, but because she was great at her job. Additionally, because she was a nurse practitioner, it allowed the elder Doctor Waller to reduce his hours. Therefore, freeing his dad up to spend time with his new girlfriend.

  His new girlfriend, Janet Mullen, formerly known as Brody’s mother.