Clancy didn’t let Evie take her hand away. He gave it a soft squeeze to let her know that he didn’t care who saw. She felt her fingers relax and weave together with his.
“These are my homies. You met Mickey at the point. This is my best friend, Chip.”
“Hey, Chip.” She offered him her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Then, Evie looked at Mickey but looked away without saying anything. Clancy just saw Evie be not so nice to somebody, and she’d picked Flaherty. It made him laugh.
“Why don’t you come with us?” Mickey gave Clancy a look that was definitely a challenge. He was telling him that if he didn’t choose his friends over this tourist girl, then it wouldn’t be cool.
“Nah. I’m good. We’re gonna hang here.”
Mickey put an unlit cigarette between his lips and rummaged around in his jeans pocket for his Bic lighter. When he lit up, Evie coughed. “Well, excuuuuuse me,” he said, the Marlboro hanging between his lips. “We’re out.”
Chip lingered a moment after Mickey walked away.
“It was really nice to meet you,” he said to Evie. “I heard Clancy saved you from the rocks.”
“He did.” Evie made an effort to stop from smiling but couldn’t do it. “You know, in the Kung Fu tradition, if you save someone’s life you are responsible for their safety and happiness forever.”
Chip’s mouth fell open. “I saw that episode!”
“Chipster!” Mickey yelled for him to hurry up.
“I gotta go. But, yeah. Awesome. Have fun today.” Poor guy looked a little dazed.
“Catch you later, Chip,” Clancy said.
Evie said she needed to find a ladies’ room, so they agreed to meet up at the seafood taco stand when she was done. Clancy used the opportunity to run back to the wind chime tent and buy the one she liked. His plan was to give it to her before she left on Friday.
She was leaving.
Clancy paid the woman and while she wrapped it in tissue paper so it wouldn’t break, that’s all Clancy could think about. Evie would be leaving at the end of the Mermaid Festival. That was five days away. Could that be right? He had only five more days with her. . . .
She met him as planned and insisted their next stop be the Fountain Square, which, of course, was the last place in the universe Clancy wanted to be. He was still creeped out every time he thought about that psycho whisper he heard. But what kind of personal tour guide would he be if he refused to show Evie the statue, the reason for all this festival week crap?
Honestly, there was no one on Earth he would do this for except Evie. And she’d never even know.
People were packed around the fountain shoulder to shoulder. If his dad was here—and he was glad he wasn’t—he would have called it a real hoobanger. To Clancy, it was just a real pain in the ass.
Evie waited her turn and then pressed in so that she could read the plaque. Clancy stood right next to her, but it took everything in him not to run. He kept his eyes away from the mermaid. “Oh, wow! So Rutherford Flynn’s fishing fleet was saved by a mermaid—is he an ancestor of yours?”
“Uh, yeah. My dad’s great-grandfather or something like that.” Clancy looked around to make sure no one he knew saw him there, since only dorky tourists and New Age woo-woos hung out at the mermaid fountain. God, this was embarrassing.
Evie began mumbling out loud as she read. “So Rutherford tries to swim back into the storm to thank the mermaid, and almost dies. Holy crap. An innkeeper’s daughter named Serena nurses him back to health and he wakes up and thinks she’s the mermaid! Ha! Awesome!” Evie turned to him and must have detected his impatience. “We can go if you want.”
“No.” Clancy put his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll stay as long as you like.”
Evie got this look on her face he’d never seen before. Like she might cry or something. Then she kissed him on his cheek. It was quick but he’d been right—her lips were silky and warm and his skin was on fire where she kissed him.
“Thank you, Clancy. You are so nice to me.”
At that moment, he would have done anything, anything in the world for that girl.
“So do you believe in the mermaid? You never said.”
Anything but talk about that. “Uh, well, sort of, maybe, but not really. I mean, not literally. But it’s cool. Sort of.”
Evie went back to skimming over the history. “So they marry, he gets rich with a fishery company and he builds this fountain in Serena’s honor. Oh! After fifteen years of marriage he still thinks she’s the mermaid! That’s wild!”
“Yeah. Wild.”
“So, okay, here comes the legend part. People start believing that if you take the mermaid’s hand and kiss it, asking for true love with an open heart, she will grant you your wish. But . . .” Evie quickly turned to look at Clancy and found his face right up near hers. He was busted.
“Oh.” Evie got red in the face and returned her attention to the plaque. “So, you’re not supposed to ask her to send you true love if you have someone specific in mind, someone you already know, and if you do . . . jeesh, that’s harsh. ‘Happiness will elude you,’ it says.”
“Let’s walk over here and see her up close.”
Clancy held Evie’s hand and pushed through to the front of the crowd. The two of them stood just off to the mermaid’s side. Her gaze was focused directly over them, out to the sea. Evie raised her chin and looked straight up. Clancy couldn’t help it. He must have been swept away or something, because he looked up, too, just so his eyes could see what Evie was seeing. Mist from the fountain rained over their hair and clothes. They didn’t say anything for a minute or two. Then Evie whispered.
“She’s so incredibly beautiful.” Her mouth parted slightly and her eyes were as big as sea scallops. “Very strong. Powerful, but, I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.”
“She’s strong but she’s all girl.”
Evie swung her head around and stared at him. Where the hell had that stupid comment come from? He was such a loser.
“Exactly.”
Nope, he was a frickin’ genius.
Whoa. Just then, the hot sparks were going completely nutso inside him. All he wanted to do was get out of this crowd of socks-and-sandals-wearing dads and get Evie alone. But, since he was trying to be a gentleman and all, he had to give her the opportunity to do what all the tourists did on Bayberry Island.
“Do you want to kiss her hand and ask for your true love or something?”
Evie shook her head back and forth slowly. “Nuh-uh.” Her lips curled up into a small smile. “If I did that, happiness would elude me.”
Without thinking, Clancy grabbed her hand and, like a tight end clearing the path for a running back, he led her through the socks-and-sandaled mob to safety. He knew exactly where he was going, though he could hardly admit it to himself.
Of course he’d always wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl. He’d thought about it a lot. But whenever he pictured it in his mind the big event took place on the beach, or on the boardwalk, or in her bedroom, or under the parade reviewing stand or anywhere, really—except where he was headed at the moment.
Clancy rounded a row of bayberry bushes, and immediately plopped down on the perfectly mowed grass. He knew it was perfect because he’d mowed it. And then he guided Evie onto his lap.
“I have to kiss you.”
“I think I have to kiss you, too.”
“I’ve never kissed a girl before.”
“Neither have I.” They both laughed. “A boy, I mean.”
This was going to be everything, everything he ever wanted his first kiss to be. She angled her head and Clancy pulled her close, then pressed his lips to hers. Oh, God, Evie smelled like Coppertone and roses and the bayberries that kept them hidden from the crowds. She was like nothing he’d ever experienced—warm and soft and fleshy in p
laces only girls were fleshy. Her lips were wet and smooth.
But the kiss ended.
They looked at each other. Neither said anything, but it was clear she’d liked it as much as he had. Oh, yes, God, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He put his hands in her long brown hair. And together, they melted.
Though Clancy reminded himself that he really had no idea what he was doing, it didn’t seem to matter. He just let go, and somehow they figured it out together—the breathing, the moving, and even a little bit of tongue. It didn’t last as long as he might have liked, but Clancy hoped this was just a warm-up for things to come.
All of a sudden, Evie frowned and reached toward the underside of her thigh. “What is that poking into me?”
Oh God, this was a nightmare. She’d just felt him get hard! He wanted to die. And then he felt her hand patting the large side pocket of his cargo shorts. Oh, thank baby Jesus it was the wind chime instead of his pecker!
Yes, Clancy intended to give the gift to her at the end of the week, but did it really matter when she got it? He only wanted to make her happy. So he fished it out and handed it to her, hoping to hell it wasn’t broken.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she peeled open layers of white tissue. Evie pinched the small ring at the very top between her thumb and forefinger and pulled. It unfolded, perfect, unbroken, and already singing all its notes. Tears plopped onto her cheeks.
“Thank you, Clancy. This is the nicest thing a boy has ever done for me.”
“I . . . you’re very welcome. I like you, you know? I mean I really, really like you.”
She nodded, sniffing. “I know. I really, really like you, too. So now what do we do?”
“I’m not sure, but we can kiss some more while we try to decide.”
Chapter Seven
Clancy watched as Evie slipped from the motel room, turning her back toward him to double-check the lock. The instant she glanced over her shoulder, there was no longer any doubt in his mind—she knew who Clancy was, and she remembered the week they’d spent together when they were kids, probably in more detail than he did. But, for whatever reason, she’d chosen to avoid him and lie about it, and the time had come to find out why.
Cricket—Evie—faced him but remained at the door. Her hands hung straight at her sides, balled up into fists. Her eyes darted around the motel courtyard, almost as if she expected someone to jump from the bushes.
“Please come sit.” Clancy patted the concrete bench under a loblolly pine, just outside of the range of the security light.
She had changed from the revealing pajama shorts and was now covered head to toe. Despite the humidity, she wore a baggy pair of jeans and a too-big—brand-new—Indiana University hoodie sweatshirt. Clancy didn’t know what the hell she was up to, but he had to give her points for choosing a story and sticking to it.
“How’s your nephew?”
She frowned, pulling her mouth tight. She tried not to look at him but kept returning her gaze to his, expecting the worst. She was afraid of him, for some reason.
“He’s fine.”
Evelyn glanced down at the ground and Clancy did the same. She’d ditched the sport sandals for a pair of top-of-the-line Asics running shoes, a model he’d seen on many women athletes. It was difficult to be sure in the limited light, but they certainly didn’t appear as new as the sweatshirt.
“I should probably go.”
“Who was harassing you?”
“What?” Her head snapped up.
“At the door. You were about to call the police, remember?”
“Oh!” She brightened up. “You know, uh, it was just the Mormons.”
Clancy couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Yeah, they’re a rough crowd. Our jail is pretty much wall-to-wall Mormons as we speak.”
She burst out laughing, then turned her face away to hide the one honest thing she’d shared with him in the last eighteen years. Score. Clancy made her laugh! And, oh, did he remember that laugh.
She faced him again, embarrassed. She was adorable. How could he have not known her the second she stepped off the ferry? Those eyes—such a pale, ethereal green curtained with dark lashes. As a clueless adolescent, he’d been mesmerized by those eyes. And as a grown-ass cop, he was still mesmerized, still defenseless when it came to her.
As a reflex, he let his eyes travel down to her mouth, pink and full. He wanted to kiss her. Just one more time.
“I need to go.”
He smiled at her. “Do you still wear sundresses?”
Her eyes widened.
“You looked so beautiful in that yellow dress, but those shoes . . . I never liked those plastic shoes.” With that, Clancy reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph.
She arched away from him, holding on to the edge of the bench. He could see her chest rise and fall.
“It’s good to see you again, Evie.” He kept his voice gentle, not wanting to cause her to freak out any more than she already was. But why was she? “Please tell me what’s going on, okay? I just want to understand why you took all the trouble to come back to Bayberry Island, and then didn’t want me to know it was you. You are literally hiding from me.”
Her body tightened, but she responded as casually as if he’d just asked her to pass the salt. “Sorry, but I’m not following you.”
Clancy laughed softly at her stubbornness. “Okay. I’ll make it real easy. You were here the summer we were both fourteen. I fell in love with you.”
She blinked. Evie leaned in, took the photograph, and studied it, the faintest tremble visible in her hand. “That’s pretty interesting. I mean, the girl does kind of look like me, doesn’t she? A little bit, anyway. Her eyebrows are completely different, though.”
“You don’t have to . . .”
“And I’ve always had blond hair. Sorry.” She glanced up and smiled casually at him. “Was she important to you, this girl? Are you searching for her for personal reasons, or is it, you know, a police thing?”
Clancy felt one of his eyebrows arch high, not even sure how to respond to that loaded set of absurd questions. First off, it didn’t take a cop to see that she was lying about her hair. She’d recently bleached it, and not all that evenly, either. And she’d managed to ask about his feelings for her while fishing around for whether he suspected her of wrongdoing. This was getting more interesting by the second.
Just then, she slipped the photo into the pouch of her sweatshirt. He pretended not to notice.
“Why didn’t you write me, Evie?”
He watched a dozen different emotions rush across her pretty face. Surprise, anger, frustration, fear . . . she wanted to say something. Her lips parted. It was killing her not to be able to say it. A bead of perspiration appeared on her upper lip.
“I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” She wiped her palms on the front of her jeans. “Whoever that girl was, she cared a lot for you—you can see it in the picture. I’m sure she wrote you. I mean, why wouldn’t she?”
With that, she jumped up and returned to the motel, already reaching to put the key in the door.
Clancy would not let it end like this. Evie was going to bolt the first opportunity she got. She felt threatened that he was a cop and terrified because he’d figured out who she was. He saw how she struggled, how she wished she could tell him what was going on . . . if only she trusted him.
He jumped off the bench and in an instant stood behind her. Her back was so close he could feel her heat radiate through the sweatshirt and onto his chest. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Evie.” He touched her hair. He softly placed his lips on the back of her neck.
She spun around. Evie raised her face and leaned forward tentatively, touching her mouth to his. Almost immediately, she pulled away, her eyes filling with tears. “Good-bye, Clancy. It was nice to see you again—today. Since earli
er today. Thank you for saving my nephew.”
The force of his response surprised him. He pulled her against his body and kissed her, hot and slick and over and over again. Instead of pushing him away, she fitted her body against his, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him back with a desperation he’d never felt from a woman in all his life. Her hands were in his hair; then her fingers dug into his shoulders. She moaned into his mouth. She allowed him to back her against the motel room door.
Clancy was out of his head. He was gone, completely lost inside the kiss, only wanting more of her, anything and everything she had to give. His hands pushed up inside the sweatshirt and grasped her firm waist, caressed her straight back, pressed against the hot, smooth skin of her belly. Christ, he hadn’t wrestled with this kind of raw need since . . . never. Not like this, ripe and hot and full-to-bursting from the first touch.
It was completely insane how much he wanted her.
She began to push him away, tentatively at first, then with force. He let her go. They stared at each other for several seconds, breathing hard, bewildered, and amazed.
She touched her fingers to her lips, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. “I have to go.”
“I can help you. Whatever it is, you can trust me.”
She opened the door and slipped inside.
And just like that, it was over.
* * *
As exhausted as Clancy was, there was no way he could go home. Not like this, with ten thousand questions swirling around his brain. He knew how it worked. If he went home with a head full of loose ends, he would only lie in his bed and stare out the window, unable to sleep. He might as well get to it.
He grabbed a cup of locker-bottom coffee, placed the driver’s license information on his desk, and logged on to the police department’s mainframe. He began a database search for one Cricket Dickinson, twenty-nine, of 3448 Jinni Lynn Court, Bloomington, Indiana. It sure didn’t take long to find her. Everything was right at the top of the search results, like it had been placed there for his convenience. Interesting.
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