See You at Sunset

by V. K. Sykes

  The conversation felt so strained that Holly wanted to throw up. Micah let out a tired sigh, perhaps thinking the same thing

  “Babe, we really should talk about last night.”

  This is not going to turn out well. “I know,” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor.

  “How about a walk?”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” At least going for a walk meant they wouldn’t have to stare at each other as they talked. “I guess I can leave the rest of the work until morning.”

  Actually, the store was in a perfect state of readiness. All she needed to do tomorrow was unlock the door for Brendan and his assistant.

  Micah waited outside while Holly shut off the lights and locked up. They headed up Island Road, the soft dusk of evening falling around them.

  “I saw Leigh fly out,” he said. “Hell, that damn helicopter practically blew Roy’s golf cart into a ditch. I thought the old guy was going to have a stroke, he was so pissed.” His disgusted tone said everything Holly was thinking about her ex-boyfriend too.

  “I’m sorry about Roy. Jackson had to get back to work this morning.”

  “Good. I hope he never sets foot in Seashell Bay again.”

  “I think you can bet the house on that.”

  He gently stroked her shoulder, unconsciously, she thought. The touch of his callused hand on her bare skin was electric, and it brought everything they’d done on the dock rushing back with blazing intensity. Nerve endings fired from her scalp down to the soles of her feet.

  She sighed. “Micah, about us… we let things get out of control last night. And it was totally my fault. I got too emotional at the party, and I shouldn’t have let myself… uh, get carried away like that.”

  Even in the fading light, she couldn’t miss the stark pain that flashed across his features. It felt like she’d been kicked in the gut.

  “Hold on,” he said. “Are you saying what happened between us was just a reaction to what Leigh did?” His voice was thick with disbelief.

  Part of her wanted to say exactly that and hopefully be done with it. But she knew it would be a lie. And she hoped she was done with lying, especially to herself.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then what was it?”

  Holly didn’t know the whole truth. Her feelings for Micah had grown so strong. And sure, she’d fantasized for years about having sex with him, so that was a bonus. But she’d been a total mess last night, and so very vulnerable. That was no way to start a relationship—especially with an old friend, one who lived in a very different world. She simply didn’t have room for that kind of emotional intensity in her life, not right now anyway. And Micah, just by being Micah, would demand emotional intensity.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “All I know is that it shouldn’t happen again.”

  Micah lifted a brow at her choice of words. “Shouldn’t, or won’t?”

  “What I’m trying to say is that it didn’t really change anything, Micah. Our circumstances, I mean. How could it?”

  Then how come it feels like everything’s changed?

  “Now you’re going to lecture me about our different worlds again,” he said, shaking his head. “I understand, Holly. I really do, but circumstances can change, you know.”

  “Yes, but we have to be realistic. My heart will always be here in Seashell Bay, but it hasn’t been my world since I was nineteen.”

  He was quiet for a few moments before answering. “I’ve been thinking a lot about transferring to the mainland at some point—maybe going for my detective shield. Hell, I could even end up in New York.”

  “Oh God, no,” she blurted.

  Micah stopped and stared at her. “I’m sorry?”

  She flapped a hand. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  Holly had never worried much about Micah’s safety. Yes, he was a cop, but policing in Seashell Bay—and rural Cumberland County before that—had always meant that he faced little danger on the job as far as she could tell. Becoming a New York City cop, however, or a Portland detective, struck her as a whole lot riskier. She simply could not love another man who carried a gun and put himself in harm’s way.

  “I can’t believe you’d ever live anywhere other than Seashell Bay,” she said.

  “Because I’m too stuck in my ways?” Sarcasm laced his voice. “Too resistant to change?”

  “No, because you love it too much,” she countered. “Not to mention the fact that the people here love you and need you.”

  That was all true, of course. But she also had to admit that the idea of Micah making such a move, partly for her sake, made her extremely nervous. It was too much, too fast.

  Silence fell between them as they passed the empty fire hall and then the Lobster Pot. The bar’s parking lot was full, and rock music bled out through the Pot’s leaky front door. But once they got out of range of the music, all Holly could hear was the shushing of the waves against the rocky shore and the incessant chirp of crickets. An owl hooted from a tall stand of pines on their left. It was a warm evening, and under other circumstances, it would have been a lovely night for a stroll with the hottest guy in Seashell Bay.

  “Okay, I’m just going to say it,” Micah finally said. “Holly, I’ve never felt about anyone like I feel about you—not even close. I didn’t think something like last night would ever happen, but I’m damn glad it did. And I’d like to believe that you feel something more than just friendship too. Something strong enough to build a future together.”

  Holly blinked in surprise. Coming from Micah, the most taciturn guy she knew, that kind of heartfelt statement was pretty much a Shakespearean soliloquy. He was not someone who put himself out there like that—certainly not when it came to women.

  But how could she talk about how she truly felt when her life was so messy? All she knew was that she had to find some emotional distance before she damaged their relationship beyond repair.

  “I’ve never heard you talk about your feelings for a woman before,” she said, deflecting. “Not even about your relationship with that Portland cop. Gina, wasn’t it?”

  “She was a county deputy like me, not a Portland cop.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” Holly had only met Gina two or three times, back when she and Drew spent some vacation time in Seashell Bay. She remembered forming the distinct impression that Gina wasn’t a fan of the island. None of the locals was ever sure why the relationship had ended though, because Micah had always refused to say a word about it.

  “That’s old news, Holly,” he said. “Look, maybe what we did last night hasn’t changed anything for you, but it sure as hell feels like it’s changed a whole lot for me.”

  She nodded, feeling more miserable by the minute. Still, after last night, Micah deserved the truth. “I understand.”

  He squared his shoulders, as if already preparing for the hit. “Look, I’d just like you to admit that someone like Jackson Leigh is not what you really want. I’ve watched how you look at Morgan and Ryan, and Lily and Aiden too. I think that’s what you really want. You want what your best friends have found.”

  When he paused, giving her the chance to respond, Holly just shook her head. What did he expect her to say?

  Micah blew out an exasperated breath. “What they found right here on the island,” he said, driving his point home.

  Holly felt something inside start to give way, and it didn’t feel good. She’d built up a lot of emotional firewalls over the last four years, but those defenses had already started to falter last summer when she’d come home to recuperate and bask in the love and support of her friends. While she’d done that and then some, she’d been happy to leave and return to her life too, return to the job and the work that she loved.

  But Lily’s wedding to Aiden, followed by Morgan’s engagement to Ryan, had affected her more deeply than she’d let herself admit. She refused to be the girl who envied the happiness of her frien
ds, or the one who needed a guy to be happy. But she could feel a sea change taking place within her. The emotional status quo was beginning to feel… unacceptable.

  For years, she’d been the married one, the lucky girl who’d snagged a wonderful, brave man who loved her as much as anyone could hope to be loved. But time and death had turned that upside down. Now her friends had wonderful futures stretching out before them, while Holly had had one true love in her life and didn’t know if she had the courage to risk another.

  “Micah, I would be so, so grateful if you would just let it go. Please. I feel like I’m being interrogated right now, and I can’t deal with anything more than what’s on my plate already.” She hated the desperate note to her voice, but she really needed out of this conversation.

  Coward.

  Like he’d done so many times in the past, Micah rescued her. His brawny arms wrapped around her in one of his wonderful bear hugs. Then he let her go.

  “You’re right,” he said. Even in the twilight, she could see the pain in his gaze. “I was a dick to push you. I promise I’ll back off and give you all the space you need.”

  He really was the best guy she knew, while she was a total jerk. She had to force down tears to answer him. “Micah, I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, I truly don’t. But just promise me that you’ll always be one of my dearest friends, no matter what happens. I don’t want to lose that. I can’t.”

  He flinched, obviously not happy to be relegated to the friend circle in her life. But then he pulled up the warmest smile she’d ever seen on his oh-so-masculine mouth. “You’ll never lose me, Holly. I’ll always be there for you.”

  Chapter 17

  The Seashell Bay Town Hall was a modest affair, and although the meeting room was scrubbed and tidy, the cracked vinyl flooring and the graying, chipped tiles in the suspended ceiling spoke to its advancing years. Holly could still remember when the building had gone up when she was a kid. Back then, she’d thought it huge and impressively modern. Now, like the Jenkins General Store, it seemed so much smaller and a little shabby.

  “So many people,” Beatrice said, scanning the room. She’d taken a seat in a row near the back. Florence had squeezed in next to her, and Holly had claimed the aisle seat.

  “Let’s just hope our folks are in the majority,” Holly said.

  She was impressed that islanders had shown up in such large numbers to let the town selectmen know how they felt about the Night Owl application. Well over three hundred people had signed Miss Annie’s petition, and scores had come to tonight’s special meeting to have their say on the building permit application. Later this week, the selectmen would hold their regular meeting and make a final decision.

  At a narrow table up front were Selectmen Chester Buckle, Thor Sigurdsson, and Amos Hogan. Chester sat in a tense, rigid posture, while Thor and Amos had pushed back their tilting chairs and looked relaxed as they chatted. From the front row, Miss Annie was giving the selectmen a combination of sweet smiles and meaningful glares. Beside her were Roy, Lily, and Aiden on one side, and Morgan and Ryan on the other. The six formed a formidable team that would be vocally supportive of Holly’s aunts.

  Three rows ahead of Holly, Micah was sitting beside Enid Fitzsimmons. Fitz was a pretty, lively girl with a compact, athletic body. She looked to be in her midtwenties and appeared very comfortable talking to Seashell Bay’s deputy sheriff.

  The second Holly had seen Fitz and Micah chatting away, their heads intimately close together, Holly’s already nervous stomach had started to cramp. She knew she had no business being jealous, not after the message she’d delivered to Micah, but that didn’t make it any easier to see what a cute couple those two made. In fact, she had to clamp down hard on the impulse to march up to Micah and physically pull him away.

  In the four days since their walk along Island Road, she’d seen Micah only once. That had been for about five minutes when he’d shown up at her aunts’ house to adjust the door on the new porch. Other than that awkward encounter, he’d become a ghost. Not that she blamed him. While they’d pledged their continuing friendship, she had no doubt they’d both come away from that conversation feeling like crap.

  “Look at Thor and Amos chatting away up there as if they were just having a beer at the Pot,” Florence said grumpily. “You’d think those old bug catchers would be taking this more seriously, wouldn’t you? They’re probably griping about the price of diesel fuel or some such fool thing.”

  Holly patted her aunt’s hand. “Now don’t go getting your blood pressure up, Aunt Florence. The meeting hasn’t even started yet.”

  “Well, it’s about time it did.” Florence inched forward on her metal chair and stretched her neck high. “What are we waiting for, Chester?” she called out.

  When a smattering of people started to applaud, Chester got to his feet. “I didn’t want to start without the representative from Night Owl, but here he is now.”

  A tall, thin man in a blue suit strode confidently down the aisle to take a chair off to the side of the head table.

  “I’d like to introduce Mr. Kevin Archer,” Chester said. “He’s the local district manager with Night Owl.”

  Smiling broadly, Archer waved. “Hi, folks. Thank you, Selectman Buckle. I’m pleased to be here.”

  Chester quickly outlined the events that had led up to the meeting, and ended by opening the floor for questions and statements. When a dozen hands went up, Chester pointed at the island’s most irrepressible octogenarian.

  “I won’t say everything that’s on my mind tonight,” Miss Annie said, hitching up her jeans. “You all know my position on this application, since I was the one who put together the petition.” She pointed to the stack of papers piled in front of Chester.

  Chester flashed an apologetic smile at Miss Annie as he squared up the stack.

  “A huge number of us have already signed the petition, making it crystal clear that we don’t need or want a Night Owl store,” Miss Annie continued. “So I don’t see why we need to have much of a debate. I say the people have spoken, and it’s time to put an end to this nonsense.”

  Even before she resumed her seat, the crowd began to buzz. Holly was surprised that Miss Annie hadn’t delivered one of her typically blistering tirades but had instead opted for a short, strong plea based on the strength of the petition. The only problem with that was unfortunately a lot of islanders had declined to sign too.

  Though Morgan’s hand had shot up right away, Chester instead recognized Boyd Spinney, a vociferous Night Owl supporter. Though Spinney wasn’t exactly a beloved figure in Seashell Bay because of his noisy backing of the doomed car ferry proposal, he commanded the respect of the pro-development crowd.

  Spinney tugged on his jacket and sucked in a deep breath, as if preparing for a pitched battle. “Chester, Thor, Amos—let’s face it. We just can’t keep blocking every proposal that would bring some new business to Seashell Bay.”

  He then launched into a lengthy recitation of all the development projects that had failed to get off the ground over the past quarter century. He ended with a mournful reference to the sad fate of his pet project, the Bay Island Properties resort and housing development that had been deep-sixed by the defeat of the car ferry referendum. “I know a lot of you folks were against the Bay Island project, and I respect that. But you know what thumbing our noses at them earned us?”

  “A reprieve?” Aiden said sarcastically.

  “A Nobel Prize?” Jessie Jameson shouted out.

  “A new ecoresort?” Lily chimed in.

  Spinney glared. “Yeah, sure, you folks think it’s funny. No, what it earned us was a reputation for being a real bad place to do business.”

  A number of people jeered or groaned.

  “You know it’s true,” Spinney said loudly. “I figure it’s almost a miracle that a corporation like Night Owl would want to set up shop on our shores. I’m just thankful that they do, and you should be too. This place des
erves a modern, well-supplied store that addresses all our needs. It would be a pure blessing not to have to run to the mainland every time you need to shop.”

  That was a huge stretch since a convenience store—however big—would hardly eliminate the need to go into Portland to shop. Still, Spinney got a fair bit of applause when he sat down.

  Florence grasped Holly’s hand. “I’m afraid he’s got quite a lot of supporters here.”

  “So do we,” Holly said stoutly.

  From the crowd’s reaction, she thought that certainly well more than half were against the permit. The selectmen, on the other hand, were another matter. By tracing the long history of islanders’ reluctance to embrace mainland businesses, Spinney seemed to have made his point effectively.

  Morgan spoke next, focusing on the value of loyalty as well as the ability of the existing stores to adapt to islanders’ needs instead of corporate directives. Her staunch, heartfelt support left Holly blinking back tears. Beatrice started sniffling into her hankie.

  Unfortunately, Morgan was followed by four speakers in a row that supported Night Owl with varying degrees of enthusiasm. The last speaker, Heywood Calhoun, a mainlander who owned two vacation rental properties, made a long-winded point about how the world had changed into a consumer culture, and that Seashell Bay needed to adapt to meet consumers’ needs, especially the tourists who brought in so much revenue. By the time Calhoun wound up, Florence was so agitated that Holly was ready to get her out of there.

  Then, to her shock, Micah raised his hand.

  Chester blinked, clearly as surprised as Holly was. “Go ahead, Micah,” he said, ignoring the other hands.

  The room went silent as Micah rose. Though he was often in uniform at public events, tonight he wore old jeans and a brown, lightweight leather jacket over a black T-shirt. And boy, did he look hot. To Holly’s growing chagrin, Fitz apparently thought so too, since she was gazing up at him with open admiration. As were all the other single women at the meeting—some married ones too.

  Micah gave a friendly nod to the selectmen, then turned in a slow circle as he scanned the room, making eye contact with just about everyone in attendance. It was a powerful tactic that riveted their attention. If he didn’t do it on purpose, he had mighty good instincts when it came to commanding a room. Then he turned sideways so he could speak to the front and still be mostly facing the locals.