Like One of the Family

by Kimberly Van Meter

  I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. She deliberately stepped under the spray and closed her eyes. What mattered was finding Pops and saving Larimar. End of story. Heath could bunk up with Lindy for all she cared and ride off into the sunset together. More power to them.

  Oh, criminy, she’d never been a fan of self-delusions but right about now, she was marinating in them. She cared, damn it. She cared! And she certainly didn’t like the idea of Heath going from her bed straight into Lindy’s arms like nothing of importance had happened between them only a few hours prior. She had half a mind to tell Lindy exactly what Heath had been doing a few hours ago—her.

  A small unattractive guffawlike snort popped out at the inappropriate thought and Lora wished for just a second, she could see Lindy’s face when she discovered that her older sister—the one she thought for sure was a workaholic prude with dust and cobwebs in her vagina—had actually thrown caution to the wind and did something reckless and bold. She smiled as the memory washed over her, but even as she closed her eyes to relive the sensation of Heath’s body moving over hers, she popped them open with a sigh. Now was not the time to be nostalgic. Pops was out there somewhere, alone. She could only hope he was safe.

  She tied her hair up in a towel and changed into something more comfortable, then stopped by Lilah’s room to announce that Lindy was home but she should’ve known that Lilah already knew.

  Lora paused, lingering in the doorway. “So, Lindy seemed pretty happy to see Heath,” she remarked with what she hoped sounded like a casual observance. “I didn’t realize they were so close.”

  “Lindy adores Heath. Everyone does,” Lilah added pointedly.

  “I like him well enough…for a man who attached himself to our family,” she amended, though immediately wondered why she had to tack that part on. Somehow she just couldn’t be nice. Damn… What was her problem? Was she permanently frigid inside? She hoped not. The insight wasn’t flattering. “Lilah…I don’t blame you for what happened with Pops.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  The blunt retort stung a bit but Lilah wasn’t stupid and Lora had been foolish to try and smooth over the obvious with a badly constructed lie. She drew a deep breath then lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “Okay, so maybe I blamed you a little at first but I don’t blame you now and I’m trying to apologize. Can’t you meet me halfway? You said you wanted me to act more sisterly, well, here it is. And right now, little sister, you’re acting like a spoiled, petulant brat when I really need you to be a grown-up.”

  Lilah looked away, shaking her head as if Lora was hopeless and not the other way around and Lora gave up. “Fine. Whatever. I’m going to go sit by the phone just in case Pops finds a way to call home.”

  “Lora…”

  The sound of her sister’s voice at her back caused her to pause and wait. “Yeah?” She turned slowly. “What is it?”

  “Thanks for being here.”

  She held a brief smile, a pang of guilt hitting her. She should be here. The fact that she’d dragged her feet to try and save her career seemed laughable at best and pathetic at worst. Heath had been right in one respect: her family had needed her and she’d relegated them and their problems to the back of her mind—and this was her consequence. She nodded, saying, “We’ll get it figured out,” and ducked out before the tears filling her eyes had the chance to spill.

  * * *

  LINDY TOOK A MONSTER BITE from her burger and groaned in pure pleasure. There wasn’t a place on this planet that made burgers like Sailor’s. “So tell me,” she said, in between chews, swallows and bites, “what’s really going on? Seems like all hell is breaking loose.”

  “Lora put it in a nutshell.”

  Lindy’s mouth lifted. “So hell really is breaking loose?” At Heath’s somber expression, she swigged her beer and tried to ignore the flutter of anxiety that followed. She wasn’t an alarmist and she refused to start being one just because her sisters were losing it. If she knew her Pops, he was just fine…somewhere. “Okay, so what are we going to do about Pops? Are you sure he hopped a ferry to St. Thomas?”

  “Fairly positive. And you know the ferry stops running at nine o’clock, so we’re stuck waiting until tomorrow morning. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to start looking,” he said, shaking his head.

  Lindy felt his pain as clearly as she saw it in his face. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, then rubbed his hand in a show of support. “Pops is a wily one. Chances are he’s enjoying a mini campout on the beach. I’m not worried.”

  “Lindy…I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Pops is in no shape to be traipsing around strange places. He loses time, forgets where he’s at and gets easily confused. He has a better chance of getting robbed than he does of finding a way home. I didn’t want to worry Lora or Lilah, but this is a pretty serious situation.”

  Lindy ignored that and focused on sucking a piece of burger free from her teeth before exhaling with a sated belly. “God, I’ve missed Sailor’s,” she murmured with nostalgia, choosing to focus on her food rather than the niggling voice that was scaring her with all the worst-case scenarios that could happen to Pops. “L.A. with all its fancy restaurants and world-renowned chefs ain’t got nothing on a burger from that old, rusted-out grill right here.”

  “You don’t have to pretend for me, Lindy,” Heath said, causing her to look up. “I can tell you’re worried.”

  “I’m not going to worry until there’s reason to worry,” she retorted stubbornly, then drew a deep breath to quell the sudden trembling in her hands. She shook them loose with a short laugh. “Waited too long to eat. Low blood sugar attack, I think.”

  Heath gave her an indulgent look as if to say, Call it what you like—I know the score, but refrained from further comment, which she appreciated. She finished her beer and signaled for another, ready to change the subject before tears betrayed her. “So what’s up with that big-shot sister of mine? She looks more uptight than usual, which seems like an impossibility, but Lora is an overachiever,” she quipped, laughing at her own joke until she noticed that Heath didn’t share her jocularity. “What’s up? Did Pops take your sense of humor along with him?”

  “Listen, Lora’s been under a lot of stress lately. Go easy on her.”

  “Heath, why do you defend her?” Lindy queried sharply.

  “She’s not impervious to pain and, trust me, there’s a lot going on under that still surface.”

  Lindy snorted. “If I didn’t know better I’d say that you were hot for my sister. But since I know you’re not certifiably crazy or a masochist, I might have to check your temperature. What gives?”

  Heath hesitated and a horrible suspicion, one she hated to even consider, nagged at the edge of her brain. “Oh, no. Please say you didn’t go and fall in love with her again? Obviously I’ve been gone too long and you’ve been inhaling paint fumes or something, because Lora isn’t the lovable, romantic type like you. You’re oil and water in a combustible engine. Sand and a wedgie jammed up a wet crack. Two things that just don’t mix well without causing major damage or chafing. Please tell me you’re smarter than you were when you were a teenager.” When Heath neither confirmed nor denied, Lindy wanted to hit him upside the head with her empty beer mug. Empty… She craned her head to signal the waitress again, then returned to give Heath her best “what the hell are you thinking?” look.

  “Somehow we got off topic,” he said, shifting in obvious discomfort. “How long can you stay?”

  “Long enough to help you pull your head out of your ass,” she teased.

  “Very funny.”

  “Yeah, well, I live by my wit alone.”

  “Sure you do,” he returned wryly. “And I’m sure it doesn’t hurt to have that smoking-hot body or model-hot looks, right?”

  She flashed him a deliber
ately coy look. “Well, my, my, Heath…are you flirting with me? I do think I could clear my dancing card for you.”

  He gave her a sardonic look saying that he knew she was kidding and thank God, because they both considered each other like family. Kissing Heath would be like kissing her…brother. If she had one, that is. She sighed, flashing a smile at the waitress, who had finally remembered to bring her refill. “Okay, so down to business. I can stay for a few weeks. I just found out I didn’t get this part I auditioned for…I’m real bummed. It could’ve been a real moneymaker, but some little brunette slut who I know gave the casting director a blow job got it instead. And frankly, I refuse to stoop to that level.”

  Heath laughed in spite of her indignation at the remembered proposal the casting director had given her, as well. “Glad to know you have a smidge of personal integrity left in you in spite of spending way too much time with all those fake people in L.A.”

  “Yeah, well, integrity comes at a high cost,” she grumbled. “I could’ve been the next It girl, you know.”

  “What was the gig?”

  “Tampon commercial.”

  He sputtered and looked at her with something akin to relief and confusion as to why she’d be disappointed. “Gross.”

  “Oh, grow up, you big kid. Girls have periods. What’s really gross is when you’re on a date with this incredibly hot guy and forget that it’s your time of the month and you’re stuck without any supplies. Talk about a terrible way to end an otherwise promising date. And yes, I am speaking from experience.” Lindy’s peal of laughter at Heath’s sudden green tinge caused a few people to turn and stare. She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re such a sweet thing and still so easy to embarrass.”

  “You did that on purpose,” he accused, and she shrugged.

  “Guilty.”

  “Of that and more, I’m sure,” he said.

  She blew out a slow breath and rubbed her full belly before throwing some cash on the table. “Let’s get out of here. I want to go for a swim. I feel like I have airport grime on me and I can’t stand it.”

  He grinned. “Trunk Bay?”

  She linked her arm through his and returned his grin. “You know me so well.” It was so good to be around people who were simply who they appeared and not who they thought you wanted them to be.

  The artifice of Hollywood had begun to wear on her nerves, anyway.

  “Why didn’t anyone call me and tell me Pops was losing it?” she asked quietly as they walked to the car.

  Heath sighed, the sound heavy as if he’d struggled with the same question. “It was my call. Lilah wanted to tell you, but I convinced her not to. I didn’t want you to rush home when there was nothing that could be done. Besides, it was mild. Most times he was the same old Pops. And you were out in California, getting famous. How could we ask you to come home when your career was just getting off the ground?”

  Lindy forced a smile, but it almost hurt to make the effort. Famous? Hardly. More like getting used for very little gain. “Family is more important than anything happening in Los Angeles,” she said. “I would’ve come.”

  “I know you would’ve.”

  “How’d you get Lora to come?”

  “A certified letter.”

  At that they both burst into laughter and it felt good to let loose. She grinned, feeling hopeful again. “Lord, I’ve missed you, Heath. You sure there’s no way I could convince you to return with me to L.A.?”

  He grimaced. “God, no. Not my scene. Besides, I can’t act to save my life.”

  “Neither can half of L.A. You’ll fit right in,” she said, smiling and closing her eyes. The worry remained, but for now she pushed it away so she could simply enjoy the moment of being home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  BY THE TIME HE AND LINDY returned, it was far later than he realized and, judging by the stormy look on Lora’s face when she took in their dripping hair and obviously wet clothes, she disapproved of their impromptu swim. “Any news?” Lindy asked, towel drying her hair before winding it on top of her head.

  “No.”

  “All right, then, I guess we didn’t miss anything,” Lindy quipped airily, moving past Lora to head to her room. “I’m exhausted. Call me if anything of interest happens. I’m beat.”

  Lora waited for Lindy to disappear into the private section of the resort and then she turned full force on him, her eyes blazing. He should’ve known this was coming. “Did you enjoy your little swim?” she asked, her voice tight with barely restrained anger. She didn’t wait for his answer. “How nice of you and Lindy to play catch-up while the rest of us are worried out of our minds about Pops.”

  He opened his mouth to explain, but she didn’t seem interested in hearing his side. She was winding up for something big, so he decided he ought to wait her out and see what happened.

  “I was this close to believing that you cared about Pops and that maybe you truly hadn’t been aware of Pops’s mental decline when you struck that deal, but seeing how quickly you got chummy with my sister mere hours after we’d…we’d—” She stumbled, her cheeks flaring in the most attractive shade of embarrassed pink. She recovered with a stiff “You know what we did. There’s no need to spell it out,” before continuing. “And after seeing you and Lindy I feel sick to my stomach. It isn’t often someone can boast that they’d played me, but congratulations, Heath Cannon. You played me well and good. I feel like an idiot for letting you come near me.”

  “Calm down,” he said, refusing to let her spitting fury incite a riot inside him. He was tired, emotionally exhausted and ready to go to bed. “Throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to help anyone.”

  “I’ve never thrown a temper tantrum in my entire life,” she said icily, looking down her nose at him with her most haughty expression. He probably shouldn’t tell her it just made her look ridiculous. And sort of Victorian. Likely not the look she was going for. Damn, he must be nearing delirious. He needed sleep.

  “Did you sleep with my sister?” she asked, practically stamping her foot with fury.

  The question, delivered with the most accusatory tone he’d ever heard, also smacked of raw pain and disappointment. She cared. Hot damn. She cared. He smothered the inappropriate grin and instead walked slowly toward her. She balked and took a step away. “What are you doing? Answer the question,” she demanded, splaying her palm against his chest when he continued to advance. Suddenly his fatigue had fled. “Heath?” She licked her lips, trying to hide her nervousness. “What are you doing?”

  He dipped his head to capture her lips before she could say another inflammatory word. She stiffened against the onslaught of his mouth but softened within a heartbeat, matching him stroke for stroke. “That’s better,” he murmured against her mouth. “The only Bell sister I’ve ever slept with is you. The only Bell sister I want to sleep with is you. Now hush up and listen. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go to bed. We’re both tired and it makes sense for me to stay here instead of go home, given the situation with Pops. Then bright and early we’re going to search for Pops. Sound like a plan?”

  She jerked a short nod, her eyes wide and unsure, as if she wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gone from spitting at each other to devouring one another. He grasped her hand, not willing to give her a chance to question her actions. “Bed,” he instructed, giving her hand a tug.

  And she followed without another word.

  * * *

  SHE OUGHT TO YANK HER HAND free and slap him with it, but she was caught in a strange lethargy that propelled her toward an uncertain outcome. The stark truth of it was she wanted to go with him, to curl up beside him and forget for just a few hours that their lives were incompatible and that her Pops was missing. Was it selfish? Likely. But even knowing that, she didn’t pull
away; she simply allowed him to go into her room and close the door behind them.

  It felt odd to have Heath in her childhood bedroom.

  She let out a discreet breath, wondering what to do next. “Well, this is…” But before she could finish, he’d pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the armchair, quickly followed by his shorts. The spit, along with any words that she might’ve been poised to say, dried up and disappeared. Breathing became frightfully difficult and her heart rate thundered in her chest. “You should sleep with your clothes on.”

  He stared in confusion. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was hoping for… You want me to keep my clothes…on?”

  “Yes.” No. I want to spend the night doing shameful and wicked things to you. She licked her lips.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to get some sleep and right now sleep is the last thing on my mind.” He chuckled and by the way the sound danced up her spine and caused her knees to turn to jelly, she knew he felt the same way. She spoke quickly so as not to lose sight of her sound reasoning. “And I don’t want to miss Pops’s call in the morning because I slept in. Okay?”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  “How about a compromise? My shorts are wet and unless you have a spare pair of boxers lying around…”

  She reached into her dresser drawer and pulled a pair free, much to Heath’s surprise. “I like to sleep in them. They’re comfy,” she said by way of explanation. He took the cotton boxers and slid them on. She breathed a sigh of relief mixed with disappointment. Heath naked was a glorious sight. She could safely say that she could gladly and happily awake to that view every day.

  Heath sighed and crawled into bed, settling in as if he’d always been there. Dare she say, he appeared quite natural in her bed? Odd, she thought to herself. She’d never been one to invite sleepovers with her lovers. She preferred her privacy and she wasn’t exactly a cuddler—in fact, a man who looked to excessively snuggle annoyed the crap out of her—so she didn’t have a lot of experience in this department. Was there a protocol? Etiquette? “Do you snore?” she blurted out as the questions whirred through her head. “Because I’m a really light sleeper. If you snore, this isn’t going to work.”