by V. K. Sykes
Morgan grimaced. “Ugh, I feel so bad for her, and for you too. God only knows when you’ll be able to get to New York now.”
Holly was trying her best not to think about New York because it made her feel physically ill. She wouldn’t call her partners again until she had a handle on what was happening with Florence.
“You seriously need a break,” Morgan said. “You should come down to the festival with me and try to have a little fun.”
“I’d like to, but I’ve already been closing the store quite a bit so I can spend time at the hospital with my aunts.” Beatrice had again refused to leave her sister’s side and was sleeping in a reclining chair in Florence’s room. “Anyway, I’m feeling too grumpy to have fun.”
“So you’re going to leave me to face my fate in the charity dunk tank alone, are you?” Morgan said.
Holly laughed. “Oh, stop it. First of all, you’ve done your duty in that tank a dozen times. Second, if anybody gets fresh, I’m sure Ryan will be right there ready to pound them into dust if need be. And if he doesn’t, Lily will.”
“So true,” Morgan said with a grin. “Oh, all right then. But I’m not taking no for an answer when it comes to the social. Ryan and I are picking you up, and that’s all there is to it.”
A social and dance traditionally marked the end of the festival. Probably half the island would be there at the VFW hall tonight. “I don’t think so. I’m going to the hospital again, and by the time I get back, I’ll be too tired.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Oh, so lame. You’re going to have to do better than that to get me off your case.”
“Okay, how about the fact that I’d be lousy company, just staring at the dancers morosely and wallowing in my beer?”
“Even lamer. You’re not going to make things any better for Florence by sitting around the house all night by yourself,” Morgan said.
Holly could feel herself wavering. “Has Micah said anything to you or Ryan? About going tonight?”
“No, but I doubt he’ll be there. He always likes to patrol the roads to make sure nobody drives home drunk.”
“But I remember he dropped in for a while last year,” Holly said. “Late in the evening.”
Morgan studied her. “What exactly are you afraid of if he does show up?”
How good his arms had felt around me when he held me on that rescue boat ride into Portland. How I’d wanted so much to stay there forever.
Holly opened her eyes wide, pointing to her chest. “Me, afraid? Surely you jest.”
“I call bullshit on that one, sweetie,” Morgan said drily. “I know you too well.” She finished the last sip of her coffee and stood up. “You’ll be coming back from the hospital on the last boat, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, you’ll need a little time to get ready, so Ryan and I will pick you up here at nine forty-five. And don’t argue, because you’re coming.” Morgan shot her a sly grin. “You’re going to have some fun even if I have to make you.”
The festival organizing committee had decked out the VFW hall in a blaze of colorful, twisted streamers that met in the middle of the ceiling above a sparkling mirror ball. Two cash bars in opposite corners were doing a brisk business, with lineups stretching onto the parquet dance floor. A long table at the front of the room held a dozen trophies that had been awarded earlier in the evening to the victorious skippers in this year’s lobster boat races. Holly was glad she’d missed the usual boring speeches from the president of the festival and reps from sponsoring businesses, although most of the other locals didn’t seem to mind them.
Lily had reserved seats for her and Morgan and Ryan at one of the big round tables that seated ten. Laura Vickers and Brett Clayton were also there, along with Josh Bryson, Enid Fitzsimmons, and Father Michael.
At first, Holly had guessed that Fitz had come with Josh, and that had made her feel glad. Okay, kind of ashamed of herself because it was none of her business, but still glad. After the couple danced a few times, she’d relaxed even more. But when Josh wandered across the room and planted himself at another table, obviously flirting with a young woman Holly didn’t recognize, her warm feeling fizzled. Clearly, Fitz was still on the market, which meant there was a chance she might end up with Micah after all, if he showed up. Speaking of which…
“I guess you were right about Micah,” she said quietly to Morgan. “It’s already eleven and no sign of him.”
“Told you. But maybe you should slow down a bit. That’s the third beer you’ve polished off, and you don’t exactly have a hollow leg.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Despite her joking response, Holly was drinking more than usual. First, Aiden had bought a round and then Ryan. The last beer came courtesy of an older dude from the mainland named Graham, who had already asked her to dance twice. Fortunately, he seemed like a nice guy. She’d danced with at least six or seven other guys too, all of whom she’d known for years. Despite her reluctance to come to the party, she was doing her best to forget about her troubles and have a good time.
Too bad it wasn’t working.
Morgan cast her gaze toward the tables closest to the door. “Speaking of late arrivals, just check out that hottie sitting at Crystal Murphy’s table.”
Holly craned to look in that direction. Though it was dim in the hall, she couldn’t miss the guy Morgan had mentioned. Very good-looking, he towered over the others at his table, like Aiden and Ryan did at hers. His short, black hair was trendy-spiky, and he was rocking a few days of dark scruff. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt cut high atop muscular biceps, and he was doing a pretty good job sporting a Mr. Dark and Dangerous vibe.
Holly had never seen him before but damned if he wasn’t staring straight at her with a sly grin curving up the corner of his mouth. “Who is he?”
Morgan shrugged. “No idea, but he’s kind of yummy, huh?”
Ryan glowered at his fiancée. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing, darling,” Morgan said, batting her eyelashes at him.
“Maybe he came in for the festival,” Holly said.
“Doesn’t much look like that type to me. And he seems to know Crystal Murphy.” Morgan’s eyes widened suddenly. “Look, I think he’s headed our way.”
By the time Holly turned to look, the man was already standing beside Father Michael, and his eyes were locked on her.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked in a deep voice that managed to make the request sound like a come-on.
Holly had to admit there was something alluring about the guy, despite the bad-boy thing. She gave him a tentative smile and got to her feet because nobody refused an invitation to dance in Seashell Bay unless you were exhausted. One dance with him wouldn’t kill her.
He led her onto the floor, where they started to dance to a mangled version of a Bon Jovi oldie, played by the local Portland band that usually got the festival gig. “I’m Logan,” the guy said, leaning in close.
“Holly.” She twirled around in a circle and put some space back between them.
“You run the general store, right?” He closed the gap again.
The question surprised her. “Temporarily. Have I seen you there?”
He shook his head. “A friend of mine told me that a tall, superhot babe was running the store these days. Described you perfectly, to tell the truth,” he said with another rogue’s grin. “But he can be pretty crude, so I’ll spare you the X-rated details.”
“Uh, thanks,” Holly said. Sheesh.
They both shut up and danced until the music stopped. Holly said a quick thank-you and turned to start back toward her table, but Logan grasped her gently by the wrist.
“How about one more? And I mean just one, believe me. I’m damn sure every guy here must be waiting to dance with the most beautiful woman in the place.” He followed the request with a rueful smile.
Oh, brother. If this guy wasn’t trying to get in her pants, Holly was the queen of England. But he did have
a way with a line. “Okay, just one. My girlfriend and I are leaving pretty soon anyway.” That should send a clear enough message.
“Got it,” he said. “Shame you have to bounce though.”
Holly mentally groaned when the band chose that moment to play a down-tempo tune, though she supposed it shouldn’t be surprising since it was getting late enough to start the usual slow stuff. That was what a lot of the older crowd preferred anyway. She glanced around as more couples suddenly headed onto the dance floor, including her best friends and their partners.
In one fluid motion, Logan swept her into his arms. His hand slid down her back, sinking possessively low. Again, Holly eased back a fraction.
“I heard the elderly lady who runs the store had some kind of attack,” he said after a few moments. “Is she okay?”
“That would be my aunt, though she’d punch you in the face for calling her elderly.”
He laughed as he guided her smoothly between couples, holding her tight but staying respectable. He was a pretty good dancer.
“Sorry. I hope she’s going to be all right.” He seemed sincere.
“She’s still in hospital for more tests, but she’s doing okay.”
“Good. My friend said she’s a nice lady. And the other one is too—her sister, I guess?”
Holly nodded. “Aunt Beatrice.”
“So you’re helping her run the store now?”
“I’m running it myself, actually, while Beatrice stays with Florence in Portland.”
Logan was silent for a bit but then pulled her a little tighter. His right hand slid lower to rest not far above the top of her ass.
O-kay. If he moved his hand any lower, she was done with him.
“You’re incredibly beautiful, Holly,” he murmured in her ear. “You’ve gotta have a boyfriend, though it doesn’t look like he’s here with you tonight.”
She was so not going there. Logan seemed okay, if a bit nervy, but she had absolutely no interest in dating him—or anybody else, for that matter.
Well, except possibly one persistent deputy sheriff.
“You’re not from the island, are you?” Holly asked in the most pathetic segue ever.
“No, but I’ve been renting a place here for a few months,” Logan said. “I’d like to move to the island permanently someday if I can.”
When he pulled her closer still, Holly gritted her teeth and prepared to push back. It was time to draw the line.
But before she could, a deep male voice growled from behind her. “Let’s just hope you can’t.”
Micah thought the top of his head would blow clean off when he walked into the hall and spotted Holly dancing with Logan fucking Cain, of all people. Fuming, he’d sat down beside Morgan for a few moments and barely said a handful of words as he glared at the dance floor. Then the music shifted tempo, and just about everybody else at the table got up for a slow dance. Fitz had looked at him with an expectant expression, but he’d been saved when Bram Flynn hustled over and asked her to dance. Micah had stood up then and moved nearer so he could watch Holly and the asshole with a close eye. Maybe a minute into the dance, Cain had more or less made a grab for Holly’s ass, and it had been clear that Holly wasn’t happy at the prospect of being groped.
“Micah?” Holly broke free from Cain and swung around. “What are you doing?”
“Yeah, what the hell are you doing, Deputy?” Cain said in close to a snarl.
Holly shot a startled glance at Cain.
“I’m cutting in,” Micah said, taking a step forward. Which forced the guy to take a step back. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“You are?” Holly was peering at him like he was out of his mind.
“Nah, you can wait your turn,” Cain said. “Though the lady did say that she wasn’t sticking around for long, so you just might be out of luck.”
“Then you should hurry up and leave us alone,” Micah suggested.
“Get out of my face, dude,” Cain shot back. “Like, now.”
Holly sighed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she took a step back.
A few feet away, Ryan shot Micah a lift of the eyebrows that was clearly an offer—an offer to take care of Cain so Micah didn’t have to risk his career by brawling at a public event. But Micah gave him a hand sign to signify he had things under control. He had no intention of touching Cain unless the guy did something truly stupid.
“See, Cain, all that crap does is show what a sad-sack outsider you are,” Micah said in a pleasant voice. “You’d like to stick around Seashell Bay? Well, no guy on this island ever refuses a request to cut in on a dance. So learn that lesson and run along now.” He paused for effect. “Or should I call your live-in girlfriend and bring her up to speed on what’s been happening here?”
Holly stared, her mouth open. “Cain?” she blurted. Blanching, she turned to him. “Please leave now. I’m going to dance with my friend who, by the way, is a total gentleman, unlike you.”
Cain stared at her for a long moment, and Micah saw something very dark behind his smug look. “Jesus, there’s no accounting for taste, is there? Well, it’s your loss, babe. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
His fists still clenched, Micah didn’t take his eyes off the man as Cain strode away, pushing through the dancers. Only after the asshole sat down beside Crystal Murphy did Micah turn back to Holly.
Crystal Murphy?
Micah made a mental note to follow up on that, but for now, he told himself to relax and focus on Holly. He smiled as he pulled her into his arms. She came willingly, slipping like silk into his embrace. Too bad she was still frowning.
“Cain’s the guy you told me about,” she said in a quiet voice as he settled her close against him. “The one you think had something to do with Fitz’s robbery.”
“Yeah, him and his buddy Horton. Too bad I don’t have a damn bit of evidence to back it up. But when I saw him starting to grope you…”
“I’m really glad you cut in. I thought he was okay at first, but then he wasn’t.”
“It was my pleasure.” Heat was spreading through Micah’s chest, not to mention other parts of his body. “I thought I might lose it completely when I saw you dancing with him.”
Or saw anybody but me touching you like that.
Holly gave his back a couple of comforting pats. “I’m sorry about that, but I can handle jerks like him.”
Clearly, she thought he was upset because Cain was potentially a criminal, not to mention a dick. That was a big part of it, but there was way more to it than that. He didn’t want anyone touching her with that kind of sexual intent.
She tipped her head back to look at him, finally smiling. “I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”
“Well, I always come late, if at all.” He usually dropped in near closing time so he could tell anybody who was drunk not to drive home. In fact, he’d played chauffeur to plenty of locals over the years after the festival dance.
Tonight though, he’d been trying to stay away from Holly. For once, he was happy he had no self-control when it came to her.
“Oh, I thought you’d had some kind of premonition that a damsel might need rescuing,” she joked.
He laughed. “Could be.”
The music ended way too soon for his liking, and the dancers applauded the band.
Micah glanced over at Cain. The guy was back on his feet, looking like he might be getting set to leave. That was a good thing, since Micah was still tempted to throw him out on his sorry ass. “It looks like Cain’s leaving,” he said as the guy started toward the door. “Unless he’s just heading out for a smoke.”
“Maybe he should go home and spend time with his girlfriend,” Holly said. “Can we sit down, Micah? I’m feeling a little… tired.”
“Is that code for tipsy?”
“No getting anything past you, Deputy.” Her tone was dry, but she still smiled at him. And it warmed him from the inside out.
He took her hand. “Why don’t w
e grab a little air first? I bet you could use some.”
“Okay.”
Still holding her hand, Micah led her through the crowd and out the door. They stayed silent as they passed the parking lot on their way toward the VFW’s dock. Micah made a quick scan of the lot to check for Cain but couldn’t see either the man or his rusted-out Ford Explorer. Relieved, Micah led Holly down a flight of rickety wooden stairs to the VFW’s small dock.
“Holly, you need to understand why I had to butt in like that back there on the dance floor.”
She shot him a sharp glance before gazing out over Sunset Beach at the brightly lit ferry dock on the other side of the cove. “I think I get it.”
“Sure, but there are a few details I’d like you to know, for your own sake.”
With her profile to him, he took a few seconds to gaze at her. The breeze was ruffling her hair, and she looked so beautiful it damn near stopped his heart. The last time he’d been with her on a dock, she’d been wet and warm and as hungry for him as he was for her. He’d never forget that night if he lived to be a hundred.
“I’m not sure I want to know more,” she said. She lowered herself onto the rough planks, the fabric of her soft skirt belling out around her legs. She dangled her feet over the water that gently lapped at the pilings several feet below. “I pity his girlfriend.”
Micah sat down beside her. “Don’t, because she’s a real piece of work too. Brandy Keele’s her name, and she’s as rough and barnacled a keel as you’d ever want to run a scraper over.”
Holly laughed. “God, that’s a heck of a description. I take it you’ve met her.”
“Met her? I came close to arresting her last night.”
She twisted sideways to look at him. “Seriously?”
“At the Pot. The crazy woman had started screaming at Tessa Nevin in the restroom, accusing her of making eyes at Cain. Not that she used language that tame—the actual terminology was gross. Anyway, when I got there, Tessa told me she tried to get away from Keele, but the woman kept threatening to beat her up if she so much as looked at her boyfriend again. It was such an ugly scene that Laura called me, and fortunately I was close by.”