by J. L. Berg
“Sounds like you are in for some fun. Can we join you? Or vice versa?” she asked, adding a little Southern twang for effect.
It worked because, instantly, the three single guys were grabbing chairs and making room for us.
“Oh Lord, here we go,” I muttered to myself as she waved me over.
Following directions, I grabbed my beer and did my best sashay toward the other side of the patio. Not nearly making the impression my sister had, I still managed to get a few grins.
Not bad for a girl seriously out of practice with the art of flirting. And, in all honesty, I’d never really mastered the skill anyhow.
My sister, on the other hand? Total pro.
It was a wonder we were related.
I took a seat between two of the guys—the sexy surfer and his preppy-looking friend. My sister was already cozying up to the self-proclaimed leader of the pack.
“Jesse,” he said, holding out his hand to mine.
I politely took it, ignoring the territorial glances from my sister.
“You two local?” he asked.
The sexy surfer known as Gabe flagged down the waiter. I tried to hide my face as a guy I knew from high school sauntered over. Hitting on tourists was an offense likely to land me in the local gossip mill.
And as the butt of about a hundred different jokes.
Thankfully, Millie had this situation handled and took charge. “Hey, Billy. These are our friends from out of state. Think you could do us a favor and start a tab?”
Billy gave us a wry look, shaking his head with a smirk across his face. My sister wasn’t nearly as convincing as she believed.
“Sure thing, Millie. Good to see you,” he said, starting with one end of the table and working his way down.
“You, too,” she replied.
I ordered another beer as a cool breeze worked its way through the open patio. At anytime of the year, this place was packed. Even in the dead of summer when the air felt so heavy you could scoop it, tourists and locals alike would flood this place for the view alone.
It helped that they had amazing food, too.
“So, are you two twins?” Gabe asked, his eyes set on me.
“No,” I replied, “but I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m the oldest, by a few years.”
“Must be good genes because I can barely tell you two apart.”
“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to stick around, so you can stare a bit longer.”
I nearly choked on my beer bottle. Looking up at my baby sister, I gave her a hard stare.
She smiled innocently and mouthed the words, Loosen up.
I honestly didn’t know how to loosen up. Maybe back in high school when life had been simple and drinking beer from our parents’ fridge had been the most exhilarating moment of my day. But now? Now, my life was filled with bills and priorities.
Being an adult had sucked all the fun right out of me.
Another beer was set down in front of me, courtesy of Billy, and I took a moment to stare at the shape of it.
Loosen up?
Grabbing it with my left hand, I downed it, taking several large sips. I met my sister’s wide eyes, and she giggled.
“So, which one of you handsome gentlemen wants to buy a girl another drink?”
Sexy surfer guy laughed, eagerly holding his hand up.
Guessed I was jumping on board.
Time for some fun.
IT HAD BEEN A LONG first day at the clinic.
After leaving By the Bay late last night, I’d found myself heading toward the clinic rather than the home I was trying to avoid.
I’d flipped on the lights as soon as I walked in and ventured down the empty halls until I reached the door of my father’s office. Taking a step inside, I could smell the worn books and cologne he’d always used. It’d hurt—a visceral pain that dug deep into my gut—as I walked around this familiar space, knowing he’d never grace this building again.
We might not have been a perfect father-son duo—far from it actually—but I couldn’t discount how much he’d meant to the people of this island. That night, I’d settled into my dad’s old wooden chair, placing my feet on the solid wood desk, and counted down the hours until morning.
Sleep had once again evaded me. In the few moments that I had drifted off, I’d dreamed of a blue-eyed baby with hair the color of the sun. She’d looked up at me with wonder and trust, knowing I’d do anything to keep her safe.
When I’d awoken, I’d ached all over, hating the creaky chair more than I had as a kid. My dad had always been the type to keep everything until it was literally falling to pieces. He’d approached his clinic and office with much of the same. Every piece of furniture in this office was worn and filled with memories.
I could still see him, sitting in that shabby leather chair, worrying over the patients he’d seen.
Had he made the right decision? Should he have done more?
Could he have done more?
The stress of the job had eventually gotten to him, and he’d turned to the bottle for comfort. When you were drowning your worries in alcohol, the choices of the day didn’t seem nearly as heavy. This one decision had changed our lives forever.
And I hadn’t been sure how to return here, as if nothing had happened.
But, somehow, I’d made it through the day. I’d introduced myself to patients, most already knowing my name. Several old ladies had pinched my cheeks, saying how handsome I’d turned out. And everyone had offered their condolences on the death of my father, who was, in everyone’s opinion, a stellar human being.
If they’d only known.
My father’s drinking habits had been kept a secret from most of the residents of the town. Finding out their only doctor was a drunk wouldn’t have been exactly the best idea for keeping the clinic in business. Those who had known kept their mouths shut, and those who hadn’t known never noticed anything out of the ordinary.
A widower was entitled to his privacy after all.
During my first day, I had seen around fifteen patients. A full day of allergy meds, sprained wrists, and the common cold, both locals and tourists alike.
Of course, they’d all wanted to know if I was staying.
“It’s up in the air at the moment,” was all I’d say.
I didn’t want to breach their trust in me on my very first day by announcing I had no intentions of staying and that I couldn’t wait to get back to my normal life. There’d been a Jameson doctor on this island for decades. Naturally, everyone assumed nothing would change.
And, for now, I’d allow them to believe it.
It had been a stressful day, and that meant a lot coming from a man who performed twelve-hour surgeries. I felt emotionally exhausted. I’d done a stellar job of convincing myself that this wasn’t actually happening. With the delay from the accident and the weekend with Molly, I could almost believe my stay here was temporary—a simple vacation back home.
But, the moment I’d walked into the clinic last night, reality had slammed back in place.
I was here.
My father wasn’t.
And, somehow, I had to move on from that.
But, first, I needed food.
Knowing I’d likely stay at the clinic until I had the time to face the faded blue house again, I ventured out into town after the last patient said their good-byes and the staff all headed home. I let myself wander down the main drag, noticing what had changed.
And what hadn’t.
There was a scattering of tourists walking about, grabbing ice cream or a light dinner at some of the outdoor restaurants.
Deciding I was in the mood for a burger, I headed for an old favorite. Knowing they had plenty of beer on tap didn’t hurt either. Driving toward the bay, I found myself going in circles as I attempted to find a parking spot near the restaurant.
I’d forgotten how busy it got around here, even in the off-season.
I spotted a happy family of four walking towar
d their car, and I slowed to a crawl. The husband and wife held hands while the two kids skipped and jumped over tree stumps. It was a picture of perfection—something that would normally make me roll my eyes and wonder who the father was banging in his spare time.
But, tonight, I couldn’t help but stare as the jealousy rose in my veins.
It had been ages since I envisioned myself as a family man—someone who would devote himself to one person for the rest of his life.
Someone who would look at his children, beaming with pride.
I’d seen the downfall of marrying a surgeon.
We were unreliable outside of the hospital. Unrelenting workaholics, we would choose our patients over a family any day. It was why my dating life had been reduced to torrid affairs and one-night stands. I couldn’t do complicated.
Yet, somehow, I’d stepped right back into the middle of it.
I stalked the jovial family all the way to their car and patiently waited for them to leave. Once parked, I locked up the rental and headed in the direction of food.
What I found instead had my blood boiling.
I’d always known Molly’s younger sister was a wild card.
From the moment she’d blackmailed me out of cash after catching Molly and me in bed together, I had known that pigtailed little girl wasn’t exactly cut from the same cloth as the rest of the McIntyres.
When I walked onto the covered patio of the restaurant, my suspicions were confirmed instantly.
“It’s Jake Jameson!” Millie hollered, her fingers roaming through the hair of a tall stranger.
It took only minutes to find her sister.
While I would normally expect to see Molly planted firmly in the corner, drinking a sensible amount of alcohol while mentally creating her to-do list for the next day, I instead found her in the thick of things.
And in the arms of another man.
“What the hell?” I uttered.
“Come join us, Jake! We’re celebrating our youth!” Millie announced while the rest of the bar cheered.
What had once been a low-key place to hang out in after work, Millie McIntyre had managed to turn into an outdoor club, complete with loud music and horny men.
I turned toward the bar as I tried to keep myself from ripping the guy wrapped around Molly in half. The bartender, a guy I recognized from high school, gave me a look that was filled to the brim with desperation.
He’d clearly lost control of the place, and with Millie here, I didn’t blame him.
“Hey, Jake. Heard you were coming back,” he said, greeting me with a firm handshake over the bar.
“Sounds like you’ve got a rough crowd tonight, Billy,” I said, looking behind me.
Molly was looking up at the tall surfer dude with a mixture of nervousness and curiosity. The guy, who I now wanted to kill had a fat, happy grin plastered across his face. My fist tightened in anger.
“Yeah,” he said with hesitation. “Any way you could help a guy out? Otherwise, I might be forced to call in Macon.”
I nodded in understanding.
Macon was a rising star with the county police. He was young and hungry for action, having grown up here with the rest of us. I’d never been a fan of the guy. He’d been one of those kids who threw guys in the dumpster just because he could.
From what I’d heard, not much had changed since then.
Except for the badge.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I replied, turning my attention to the task at hand.
Molly’s slow dance with the surfer heated up as I watched his fingers nudge toward the hem of her dress.
“Oh, hell no,” I muttered, stalking forward.
“Hey, Jakey!” Molly shouted, her arms firmly around the dude’s neck. “Have you met my new friend Gabe? He’s from New Jersey.”
“No,” I deadpanned. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Gabe didn’t even turn in my direction, his glossed-over expression clearly focused on my girl.
My girl.
The thought nearly stopped me in my tracks, but I didn’t have time to contemplate it.
Because the truth was, Molly would always be mine whether or not either of us cared to admit it.
“Can I cut in?” I said, not bothering to wait for an answer.
Molly’s eyes widened as I stepped in the middle of them, pushing the idiot aside, not caring in the least for the guy’s feelings. He mumbled something about ruining his night, but I didn’t give him one ounce of attention.
He was lucky he was still standing.
“I thought I told you to go away,” Molly said.
“I’ve never been great at listening, especially when it comes to you,” I said, pulling her close as the music went on around us.
Her breath caught, and I couldn’t help but grin. She was annoyed with me. I could see it in the warm flush across her cheeks and the way she tried to avoid my gaze.
But she didn’t pull away.
“Why are you here, Molly?” I asked, doing my best to lead her around the dance floor when all I really wanted to do was tear her away from the place.
“Having fun,” she said indignantly. “That’s what a girl does when she’s been dumped. Gotta show the town I’m single and ready to mingle.”
“This has never been your kind of scene,” I reminded her as her eyes finally met mine.
“How would you know?” she said, pushing back. Her arms wrapped around her waist, a telltale sign she was feeling insecure about herself.
If only she knew she had no need for that type of emotion.
She was breathtaking. She always had been.
“You don’t know anything about me,” she continued. “Don’t walk in here, thinking you know me and everything about me.”
I held up my hands in protest. “I know, I know. You’ve grown. You’ve changed. But tell me something. How many times have you thought about leaving this bar? How many times have you thought about the bread that needs to be baked or the plants that haven’t been watered? You might have gotten older—we both have—and priorities might have shifted, but believe me, you’re still the same girl I knew. The same one who worried about term papers months in advance, who told on herself for glancing at Dean’s paper in math class.”
“I was looking out the window and accidentally glanced down,” she mumbled.
I couldn’t help but laugh, taking a step forward. She didn’t retreat.
“You’re still the same person, Molly. Still my Molly.”
I took another step forward with her wide eyes focused on mine. There, in that brief moment, I saw a flicker of hope. A glimpse at a future I’d never anticipated.
“No,” she said, breaking our connection. “No, I’m not, and you’d do well to just leave me alone. You might be back, Jake, but you’re not home. This place moved on after you left. So should you.”
The thing was, she was right.
Life had moved on.
I knew this better than anyone. But, the moment she turned from me, reaching a hand out for the Jersey boy she’d been fooling around with before I got here, nothing else mattered.
Not the practice or the job I’d left behind.
Not the twelve years that we had been apart.
Just her and me and the ache we felt for each other.
I reached out for her, taking the outstretched hand.
“Come home with me,” I said in one breath.
“What?” she said, forgetting about the surfer and his unfinished dance.
Her eyes met with mine, and everyone else drifted away.
It’d been like that for as long as I could remember.
“One night. You and me. For old times’ sake.”
It was a crazy idea, one I’d just come up with in that single moment of need. But I wasn’t going to take it back.
I knew she felt the same.
I knew she needed me as much as I needed her, and I couldn’t keep denying myself the one thing that could make me whole again.
Even if it was only for a single night.
“I’ve been drinking,” she protested as she tried to push away from me.
“You and I know you’re probably the most sober person here besides me,” I said, glancing over at the one beer on the table behind her. No doubt, it had been sitting there for hours. “And, before you argue and say something like, I don’t know you anymore, let me just remind you how much you do.”
She opened her mouth to do just that, but I pulled her toward me once again, closing my mouth over hers. She froze in shock for a single second before she let go, giving in to the mutual need we felt.
I tasted fear and sadness in her kiss.
Lust and need.
Passion and possibilities.
She leaned into me, surrendering, as I gave her everything, not giving a damn about the crowd of people around us, staring.
I’d stake my claim for her, if only for a night.
My tongue slid against hers, and it was a damn miracle I didn’t lose it right then and there. Because this was what I’d been waiting for.
Her lips, hot and wet, on top of mine. The urgency for more.
“Anyone take bets on these two?” someone shouted. “Because we could have made a fortune on how long it would take. God knows I need the cash.”
It was like a bucket of cold water down the back. I felt Molly stiffen, her senses returning, as she pulled back, retreating from me.
And my touch.
I looked around, ready to pounce on the poor townie who had ruined this for me. But I faltered.
Circled around us were people I recognized.
People I’d grown up with.
And then, as my vision cleared, I saw him.
Macon Green. The kid who loved to mess with everyone, including me.
He had his hands wrapped around himself, a shiny gun hanging from the holster, as he grinned a sinister smile in our direction.
“Macon,” I said darkly.
He tipped his hat toward me as my chest heaved.