Dad for Charlie & the Sergeant's Temptation & the Alaskan Catch & New Year's Wedding (9781488015687)

by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel

  “It’s dinner, Paige. We aren’t eloping. Look.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a long, narrow envelope. “Apparently I won some kind of promotional contest from this new restaurant on the wharf. Two dinner tickets to some new place called the Soaring Dutchman. Right on the water.” He waved them in front of her. “And don’t say you have to think about Charlie because I already know she’s staying with Simon and Abby. I’ve been informed it’s space movie and pizza night.”

  “My kid is going to turn into a pizza. Or a space princess,” Paige said, unable to stop the smile from tilting the corner of her lips. “I haven’t been to Monterey since we moved here.” Even as she said the words, her mind was screaming at her to run away. A night out—alone—with Fletcher Bradley? As appealing as the idea was, it was equally dangerous. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend time with him.

  She didn’t want to lie to him anymore. But telling him the truth wasn’t possible.

  Paige swallowed hard, looked at the tickets.

  “If you don’t go, I’m going to tell Holly you worked overtime without putting it on your time sheet,” Ursula muttered under her breath as she swept behind Paige, a tray of just-washed fountain glasses in her arms. “A night off and a bit of fun, not to mention a meal out, wouldn’t do you any harm.”

  “See? Even Ursula agrees with me, and she never thinks I’m right. Right, Ursula?”

  “Hmm.” Ursula gave him the evil eye.

  “You’re not really going to make me beg, are you?” Fletch asked. “I’ve had a rough day. Don’t I deserve a break?”

  He did. And no, she wasn’t going to make him beg. But that didn’t mean the idea didn’t hold some appeal. “What time do we need to leave?”

  His face brightened, as if that was possible. “I can be back here in an hour. Just have to change and drop Cash off with Matt. Should give us plenty of time to make the drive and not have to rush.”

  Even with her heart in her throat, Paige couldn’t say no. “Okay. Fine. Dinner.”

  “Perfect ending to the day.” He surprised her by leaning over the counter and pressing his lips against hers. For just long enough for her to want more. “See you in an hour.”

  * * *

  “OH, WOW. HOW amazing is this!”

  Amazing wasn’t a word Fletch would use when describing the Soaring Dutchman. Throat-tightening, stomach-clenching for sure. Nauseating maybe. The short walk from the parking lot a block up from Cannery Row had been punctuated with the cooling ocean breeze snapping the nautical and colored triangular flags waving at the tops of poles. The setting sun glinted off the water and off the windows of stores and billboard signs along the makeshift boardwalk.

  Monterey was easier than Butterfly Harbor. The water sounded softer here, calmer. He could almost tune it out.

  Paige’s thin sandals slapped against the plank boards. She caught her flyaway hair as it got tousled by the wind. She looked at him, then toward their destination. The restaurant housed in, of all things…

  “You didn’t tell me this was a dinner cruise.” She faced him, her smile wide and fanciful as she practically danced backward toward the narrow gangplank.

  “I didn’t know.” He didn’t recognize his own voice. Okay. He slowed his pace, took long, deep, controlled breaths. He could do this. But with each step he took, his knees shook. He couldn’t feel his feet, could hear only the phantom roar of ocean waves crashing up onto the rocks. He stopped walking, pulled out the tickets and reexamined them. There, on the back, in small print below the swordfish icon, he saw the words Ocean dining experience.

  He thought that meant an extensive seafood selection. His skin went clammy. He could feel the collar of his shirt tightening, cutting off his air as he drew in shallow breaths. “Give me a second, will you?” He tried not to appear frantic as he looked around the collection of stores, his gaze landing on a gift shop with a dazzling array of butterfly gifts and offerings. A distraction. That’s what he needed. Just a few minutes to get himself together.

  There wasn’t anything to worry about. It was perfectly safe. He was being ridiculous and yet…he may as well be thirteen again, standing on the shoreline frantically searching for a way to stop the past.

  He felt like a robot with the way his legs jerked. How had he not looked into this place more carefully? Because he’d instantly thought it was the perfect evening out for him and Paige and he’d jumped at it. It really was the little details that killed you.

  Fletch managed to make it to the shop before he grabbed hold of the window frame hard enough his fingers went numb. A view he’d figured he could manage. Even for a few hours if it meant spending the time with Paige. She was distracting enough. But forcing himself onto that vessel? Feeling it rock and roll under his feet? Hear the water slapping against the…he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the unease and panic to go away.

  “Hey. Fletch.”

  He gnashed his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. He hated the sympathy and concern he heard in her voice. He didn’t want it, didn’t need it. And yet…

  When she curled her gentle hand around his arm, he could finally breathe again. “You all right?”

  “Fine.” He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t do anything but force the memory of a little boy’s suddenly silenced cry back into the recesses of his mind. “I’m not a real big fan of the water.”

  “What do you mean you don’t like the water?” The teasing lilt in her voice did nothing to calm his nerves. “You live in an ocean-side town. You walk ten steps out your office door and it’s right there.”

  “Yeah, really not helping.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “And in case you didn’t realize, I live on the farthest street away from the beach.” Where he could barely hear the water. “Just…”

  He pinned his focus on the string of three monarch butterflies dancing on thin, delicate wire. Flitting in their imaginary world as if they didn’t have a care. “I’ll be good in a few minutes.”

  “I don’t think you will be.”

  She was right. The more he tried to breathe, the harder it became. He could hear his heart hammering in his own ears, drowning out the ocean sounds even as he knew they were just within reach.

  “You need to sit down.” Paige slipped her hand down his arm and entwined her fingers through his. “Come on. There’s a bench right around the corner.”

  “Paige, please. Just let me—”

  She kissed him. Quick, hard, enough to fry his rapid-fire synapses. “Nice to know it works both ways.” He let her lead him, his male pride taking a significant hit as she drew him to the weathered bench. Traffic, he noticed. Pedestrians hoofing it from store to store, bags of goodies in their hands from the world-renowned aquarium a few blocks away.

  Paige continued to hold his hand as she shifted on the bench, tucking her bare leg under her skirt as she smoothed her other hand over his hair. She looked so pretty in the pale pink summer dress, tiny white daisies running across the hemline at her knees. The white sweater lay softly against her shoulders, and unusually for her, she’d left her hair down, spilling around her face that for once, as she looked at him, didn’t hold anything but concern.

  Fletch looked away. This was not how he’d planned for the night to go.

  “You get panic attacks like this very often?” Paige asked.

  “That’s not what this is.” But arguing didn’t make any sense.

  “That’s exactly what this is. Or it will be soon if you don’t get your breathing under control.” Her fingers skimmed the side of his face, her soothing voice easing the spinning in his head.

  “I don’t think your touching me like that is going to help.” His attempt at humor had her fingers stilling. She tugged her hand away, but he reached up, caught it in his and squeezed. “Sorry. That wasn’t a criticism.” If anything it
gave him something to focus on other than his own weaknesses. “I didn’t realize this place was a boat.”

  “No kidding.” Now it was Paige’s turn to joke as she tightened her hand in his. Both her hands in his. “We can go somewhere else. It isn’t worth your making yourself sick over.”

  No, it wasn’t, but the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her. “It’s so stupid.” He leaned forward, still clutching her hands, and lowered his head. “Being afraid of the water.”

  “This isn’t being afraid, Fletch.” Now she did pull her hand free so she could stroke his hair again. “This is a phobia. And it’s okay. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

  “But I do want to.” And he did. Seeing that expression on her face, how happy she was, knowing something he’d done, a place he’d brought her could make her smile like that, smile at him like that? It was all he wanted to see. For now, days, weeks…for however long to come. “I’m a grown man, Paige. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I know that.” He poked his finger against his temple. “I work next to the ocean every day, and it’s never done this to me.” At least not in a very long time.

  “I would have thought living in Butterfly Harbor meant you were acclimated to the water. It is pretty much everywhere. I don’t suppose you want to tell me what this is about. What started this?”

  “I told you, seeing that boat—”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. Something like this happened the other day with Charlie, didn’t it? You didn’t react that way because she scared you.”

  “Oh, she scared me.”

  “Then not just because she scared you. What happened, Fletch?”

  “I told you, she just ran right into the wa—”

  “Not Charlie.” She leaned in, scooted closer. “Tell me what happened to you.”

  He shook his head, even as the words pressed in on his heart. “It won’t change anything.”

  “Yes, it will.” She caught his chin in her hand and turned his face to hers. “It will change things for you. Tell me. Talk to me, Fletcher. Who did you lose?”

  “How did you—”

  “I’ve seen enough trauma patients to know. There was an accident? Something you couldn’t control.”

  “No one controls the ocean,” he said. “But it was my fault. Back when we lived in Florida, we, um, had a family thing at the beach. Me, my parents, Lori and…Caleb. My little brother. He was eight. And it was my job to look after him.” He tried to look away, tried to pull free from her grasp, but she held on, inclined her head, silently urging him to continue. “I swear I was only gone for a few minutes. There were these surfers and they were offering lessons to the kids on the beach, and I’d always wanted to learn. I told him to stay with Lori, but Lori didn’t know that and she went off with her friends. Caleb went exploring on the rocks. Witnesses said this huge wave hit and the next thing they knew he was gone.” His breath shuddered in his chest. “I stood on that beach, with my parents, with Lori, for hours. My feet froze in the sand. I can remember standing there, shaking so hard I thought my bones were going to break, and Lori, God, I can hear her crying sometimes even now.”

  His throat burned. He was finally able to duck his head and shut his eyes against the pain, but the memories only followed him.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Paige whispered, shifting closer and wrapping her arms around his. She held on tight, rested her head on his shoulder. “You were a child, Fletcher. There wasn’t anything you could have—”

  “He was my responsibility. I was supposed to watch him, take care of him. My father—” He broke off, cleared his throat. “From that day on, every time he looked at me, I saw that accusation in his eyes. And my mother, I think something inside her died that day. Nothing was ever the same. It was nearly two days before they found his body. I barely remember the funeral or what happened after. Only that everything seemed to stop until Lori and I came out here to live with our grandfather. My parents just couldn’t cope. With anything after that.”

  “You didn’t have any support system? No one to talk to, no one to lean on?”

  “I had Lori.” He nodded, then let out a soft laugh. “Thankfully I had Lori. I think we held each other together, but I don’t know that we ever really talked about it. We only knew the other was our safe place.” He couldn’t remember the last time he and his sister had talked about their baby brother. “To this day, the closer I get to the ocean, the harder it is to function. It’s like something inside me shuts down. So yes, that’s why I panicked the other day when Charlie—”

  “Stop. I understand.” Paige squeezed his arm. “And it makes sense. You care about her. You didn’t want anything to happen to her. No one, especially a child, should have to go through what you did without someone to help them. But now that you’ve talked about it, even a little, how do you feel?”

  How did he feel? He lifted a hand to his face and felt mortifying dampness from tears he never should have let slip out of his control. “I feel like that stupid thirteen-year-old kid again.”

  “Because inside you still are that thirteen-year-old boy. The one who didn’t get a chance to grieve properly. The one who, from that day on, has taken on everyone else’s burdens. You know, ever since I met you, you’ve always been helping someone. Saving someone. I’d bet it’s why you became a deputy. Because you want to save everyone you can. But you can’t save Caleb, Fletcher.” She lifted her head and stroked her finger down the side of his face. “As much as you want to, nothing you do can ever bring him back. And that’s something you’re just going to have to accept.”

  “If this is your way of telling me to test your theory so we can go on that dinner cruise—”

  “Now you are being stupid. We aren’t going on that dinner cruise.” She slipped her hand inside his jacket and pulled out the tickets. “I’m going to go turn these in so someone can enjoy them, and then you and I are going to play tourist and find a nice, quiet restaurant off the oceanfront and have dinner. Sound like a plan?” Before he thought to argue, she kissed him again. One of those butterfly feathery-light kisses that made his heart flutter. “You know what else I noticed about you?” she asked after she stood up. “You’ve always been the life of the party. Everyone’s friend and go-to person, but I have to wonder if maybe you’ve also always been a little lonely.”

  “I used to be.” He smiled at her, his gaze falling to her lips. “Not so much anymore.”

  * * *

  “WHAT DO YOU mean these tickets weren’t won?” Paige stood beside the gangplank entrance as the young woman behind the podium pulled up the ticket information.

  “We haven’t had any promotional offerings like that.” She tapped on her tablet, inclined her head capped with a muss of blond curls. Her brow furrowed. “What were the numbers again…oh, here we go. Amelia P. Cooper.”

  Paige’s ears roared. “I’m sorry, what name did you say?”

  The young woman repeated it, along with Paige’s old address in New York. “No, wait, I’m sorry, how is this possible?” Paige grabbed for the tablet, ignoring the woman’s startled gasp. “I didn’t order these. I didn’t pay—”

  “Here’s your credit card information.” The woman leaned over and pointed to the digital transaction. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes.” She recognized the last four numbers, but she hadn’t used that card for at least eight months. Paige couldn’t even remember the last time she’d pulled it out of the to-go bag. “Maybe someone got a hold of my account information.” And bought her and Fletcher dinner tickets? That was just… Even as the color drained from her cheeks, the rest of her body went hot. “Charlie.”

  “I’m sorry? Ma’am, would you like to speak with my manager? If this was a fraudulent purchase—”

  “No.” Paige shook her head and set the tickets on the pod
ium. “No, I think I know what happened, and it’s not anyone’s fault.” Except her own. How had she not seen this coming? Charlie had been so adamant about her and Fletch becoming more than friends, of course she’d have concocted some scheme—no doubt something to do with Simon—to get what she wanted. “Please, make sure someone can use these. Just…give them away.”

  She moved off to the side, tried to quell the panic rising up inside her like a tidal wave. She’d been so careful these last sixteen months. She purposely and deliberately had not left anything resembling a paper trail. No credit card transactions, no checks, nothing that could be traced back to her bank or address in New York. The arrest warrant that had been issued…it could easily have been sent nationwide. Or someone could just be waiting for her to slip up and expose her location.

  “Oh, Charlie, what have you done?”

  As unsteady as Fletcher had seemed a few minutes ago, that was how shaky Paige felt now. This wasn’t happening. Not now. Not when things were going so well with… Fletch.

  Her heart stuttered. Fletch. Tears burned the back of her throat. She didn’t want to leave him. Didn’t want to leave Butterfly Harbor and all the friends they’d made, but what choice did she have? In two, three days max, there was every chance Detective Diaz was going to be knocking on her door, keeping his promise to arrest her and drop Charlie into the foster care system; a system Paige might never be able to pull her out of.

  “Everything okay?” Fletch was heading her way, the concern on his face no doubt a reflection of the expression she’d been wearing only moments before. “Were they able to use the tickets?”

  “Yes.” She swallowed the worry that settled in the back of her throat. The hope that she could finally stop running and make a permanent home for her and Charlie evaporated like smoke. But she wouldn’t panic. She wouldn’t give in. Not now. Not tonight.

  No, she’d give herself tonight, one perfect night out with Fletch.

  Then first thing tomorrow, she’d start packing.