Why was she hesitating? Didn’t she understand what he was offering?
“I will need to get back to my tour pretty soon,” he told her softly. “I was able to reschedule the Scandinavian leg, but I’m due in Stockholm soon. And I don’t want to go back without you.”
“Padric, you know I can’t just leave. I’ve got the pizza shop, I’ve got my mother. The twins would run wild without me.”
“Can’t you take a break? You deserve a break.”
“Maybe. But I can’t promise anything. The summer season isn’t over yet—”
“It’s almost over. Just a few more weeks. You could join me then. Just for a break,” he repeated. “Will you think about it?”
Looking troubled, she tugged her lower lip between her teeth. Whatever she wanted to say, she must have decided not to, because instead she slid her hand to his deflated cock. “Sure. I’ll think about it. Right now, let’s just be happy that we’re together.”
With her fingers stroking him, stirring the embers of arousal back to life, he had to admit she made a good point. Why worry about details when they agreed on the most important thing—they were together.
The hell if he was going to leave this alone, though. He didn’t want to be separated from Zoe again. They were two grownups who loved each other and ought to be together. They deserved this. Period.
He held his tongue and let her play with him until his cock was fully engorged and ready to explode into—ah, sweet Lord—her mouth. His orgasm held the wistful taste of honey and spruce.
The annual “Definitely-Not-Silent Auction to Benefit the Lost Harbor Volunteer Fire Department” always took place at the Olde Salt. No other venue in town would do for the kind of raucous atmosphere the auction encouraged. For fifteen years now, so many locals had crammed into the bar that the floors sagged and the walls bulged, as if the entire building might break apart.
And yet somehow it survived the event every year, and every August, locals and tourists gathered to bid on the mix of random, bizarre and occasionally stellar items offered up by their fellow community members.
The list was posted on two giant whiteboards mounted in the middle of the floor. All the tables had been cleared away so everyone could peruse the offerings.
A ride on Mrs. Holt’s Tibetan Yak.
A pair of angora rabbits, complete with their own hutch.
A tour of Old Crow’s collection of narwhal bones.
A bottle of whisky that had been sitting in Russell Banks’ basement since pioneer days.
Mrs. Yates’ record collection from the ’70s—which she clearly just wanted someone to take off her hands.
All the wool from one alpaca for a year, offered by Aurora Alpaca Farms.
Twenty raspberry canes from Cindy Baker, famous throughout the Misty Bay peninsula for producing the sweetest berries.
A kayak trip from Wild North Kayaks.
Dog-walking from Ruby, Megan Miller’s daughter.
A two-night stay at Aurora Lodge, nestled deep in Lost Souls Wilderness and accessible only by helicopter.
Ten pounds of seaweed harvested from the most pristine cove across the bay and carefully dried in Otto Shine’s shed.
Smoked salmon from Mark and Yaritza Minsk, famous for their secret brine recipe.
The list went on and on, and there, tucked between a free tattoo at Octopus Ink and a basket of treats from Sweet Harbor Bakery, was a handwritten note with Padric’s offering: A private serenade from recording artist Padric Jeffers.
“Interesting approach,” Ethan murmured in his ear. “I’m surprised they don’t highlight the fact that an internationally known rock star is part of this hoedown.”
“I was a last-minute addition. Besides, that’s not how things work here,” he told Ethan. “It’s a down-to-earth kind of place. I wouldn’t be surprised if that smoked salmon goes for more than me. That shit is out of this world.”
“Okay then. I’ll have to save my pennies for that. I was thinking of bidding on Trixie’s Ultimate Hot Fudge Sundae for twenty. I could invite my entire extended family of Rockwells up here to share it.”
“Good choice,” Padric said absently, scanning the crowd for Zoe. She’d warned him that she was going to be late. The Last Chance traditionally provided pizza for the event—that was their contribution to the cause.
Ethan continued in a casual voice. “So I noticed a homemade bomb on the bar.”
“Cool. Good job.”
Ethan whacked him on the shoulder, and Padric turned to glare at him. “What?”
“You aren’t paying attention. You’re looking for Zoe, aren’t you, all lovesick and shit. I can’t monitor this entire crowd by myself. You need to keep your eyes open for danger.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I just—I find it hard to believe that anyone here would try to hurt me. Except you. I think you just bruised my biceps.”
Ethan looked at him sternly. “Don’t be naive. I know this is your hometown and it’s at the ends of the fricking Earth, but people are people. If someone’s jealous of you, or angry with you, or just crazy, you don’t know what they’re going to do. Be smart, my friend. I don’t know the cast of characters here like you do. Maybe something will jump out at you.”
“Message received. Got it.” Rubbing his arm, he shifted his focus to the crowd. “Cast of characters is a good way to put it.”
“I’ll say.”
Just the vast diversity of beards alone would qualify the crowd for that description. Full and shaggy ranging all the way to close-cropped goatees, with a detour at hipster shapes and even a few beards adorned with little braids. Fishermen in their rubber boots and pocket-laden vests mingled with native Alaskan carvers and hunters and storytellers. Farmers from the hills around Lost Harbor chatted with local artists in their hand-woven skirts and abundant tattoos. He spotted the owner of the bakery, who had a tattoo of a raven pecking at a cinnamon roll on her neck. A few members of the Russian Old Believer community scanned the whiteboards. The women wore floor-length dresses and the men wore tunics belted over trousers.
On a normal day, these different groups might not get along with each other. But for tonight, for the purpose of raising money for the fire department, all conflict got banished to the back burner.
Darius Boone, the fire chief whom he’d met briefly at the first volunteer training, was leaning one elbow on the bar, chatting with Toni the bartender. He had to lean; he barely fit in this low-ceilinged place. The guy was huge, especially in his off-duty cowboy hat.
A small crowd gathered around Art Dinty, the pilot he and Zoe had helped to rescue. He wore crutches and a neck brace, but grinned widely as he tipped his head toward Padric.
“Saw your name up there on the board.” One of the guys he’d been training with at the station—Willie, the retired longshoreman—appeared next to him. “Wish I could bid on you for my granddaughter, but I don’t have that kind of cash.”
“Oh yeah? Is she a fan?”
“I guess.” Willie’s attention wandered to the crowd, but he didn’t move away from Padric’s side.
“I could sign something for her if you want.”
“Like what?”
Didn’t the man understand how autographs worked? “A CD, or a photo, or a napkin. Whatever.”
“Right. She’d probably like that. You coming back to training soon?”
“I’d like to but I’ve had a couple of crazy things go down, and I’ll be leaving town soon. I’ll try to get back a few more times.”
“Yeah, I heard about the envelope.”
“You did?”
“Paramedics were talking about it. First biohazard incident in Lost Harbor. Hope they catch the asshole.”
“Yeah, me too.” Padric finally spotted Zoe. “Catch you later, Willie.”
Everyone else, including the grizzled longshoreman, faded away as if they’d never existed. All he saw was Zoe’s bright smile as she propped her chin on the stack of pizza boxes she was carrying.
“Make way for pizza!” Monica trumpeted as she followed behind Zoe. She and Alexis each carried another towering pile of boxes. The crowd parted to allow them to make their way to the bar.
After they’d unloaded their booty, Zoe hooked her foot on the lower rung of a stool and hoisted herself above the crowd. Under her apron, she wore a snug garnet dress that set off her dark hair and creamy skin. “Courtesy of Last Chance Pizza, help yourself, everyone! We’ve got pepperoni, veggie, and of course, Greek pizza, because that’s how we roll.”
Cheers and applause swept through the crowd.
“Zoe, Zoe, Zoe,” they chanted.
“Hey, no fair,” Monica piped up as she waved both hands over her head. “What about me and Alexis?”
A new chant took hold. “Zoe’s sisters, Zoe’s sisters…”
Monica stuck her tongue out to the sound of laughter.
The hungry crowd milled around the bar. Zoe stepped down and made her way toward Padric, like a salmon swimming upstream.
“Phew,” she said as soon as she reached his side. “I always forget how mobbed this event is. Was that Willie Marsh you were talking to? He’s an old friend of my mom’s. I hope--”
But he didn’t want to talk about Willie. He took her hand and pulled her against him. “Hi.”
“Hi.” A soft flush warmed her cheeks. “Hey, did you hear how they chanted my name, like I’m some kind of rock star?”
“Yeah, I did. Guess I can retire now. One rock star in the family is more than enough.”
Her blush intensified. “Speaking of family, it seems Theo might be moving back to Lost Harbor. Remember my oldest brother?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“He’s getting divorced, and his wife is taking the business. So he might be needing a new full-time occupation.”
He finally realized what she was getting at. “The Last Chance.” A grin spread across his face. “Holy shit! That timing is perfect.”
“I thought so, too. Maybe my luck is changing. About damn time.” Light danced in her eyes. He wanted to sweep her up and spin her around in a circle. Were things finally starting to go their way?
Glancing around the crowd, he saw that no one was looking their direction. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we’re trying to keep this under wraps but no one’s paying attention and it’s hard to keep our hands off each other?”
“Exactly. It’s like you can read my mind.”
“Or your body,” she murmured. Sheltered from any prying eyes, she brushed her hand across the front of his jeans. What had been only a slight erection hardened under her caress.
“Okay, enough of that.” Circling his fingers around her wrist, he moved her hand firmly away from his crotch. Her pupils dilated.
“You know it turns me on when you take charge like that.”
Of course he knew. He’d been studying her responses more closely than a chemistry final.
“Had no idea.” Playing innocent, he hauled her against him. “Oops, what just happened?”
Quickly, he bent down to steal a kiss before anyone noticed.
But as soon as their lips touched, he couldn’t drag himself away. The plush feel of her mouth, the lingering taste of honey, the click of her teeth against his, the warm puff of her breath—it all went straight to his head.
In a second, they were in so deep it would have taken a team of oxen to drag him away from her kiss. He lost all sense of where they were or why they shouldn’t be kissing in public like this. What did it matter, anyway? They were together now, and the roadblocks were melting away like butter in the sun.
“I love you, Zoe Bellini,” he whispered against her mouth.
He felt more than heard her response in the movement of her lips.
Because just at that moment, a hair-raising shriek ripped through the bar.
Chapter Twenty-Six
He tore himself away from the kiss and automatically shoved Zoe behind him. Had the baking soda attacker struck again, with something more lethal?
Still light-headed, he looked around the room. Ethan was pushing his way through the crowd, shouting something he couldn’t hear because the screaming continued. Words were being yelled at the top of someone’s voice. A woman’s voice.
He relaxed. This was probably a personal drama. Someone’s wife or girlfriend had just discovered they were being cheated on. Or maybe someone had missed out on the last slice of pepperoni. His attacker was a man, most likely…or maybe a woman, but at any rate, it was someone who wanted to be anonymous. He or she wouldn’t be screaming at the top of his lungs in a crowded bar.
Ethan sprang free of the crowd and threw himself in front of Padric.
“Dude. Relax. This isn’t about me.”
“You sure about that?” Ethan jerked his head toward a figure trundling across the worn planks of the Olde Salt toward him. He gaped at the sight of an elderly woman rolling her walker at him, her shouts mixed with heartbroken sobs.
“Mrs. Bellini?”
Behind him, Zoe startled and peered over his arm. “Mama?”
“How dare you! With that devil! I saw him kissing you! Get out, you!” She stopped right in front of Ethan and brandished a pizza cutter in the air.
Ethan made a calming gesture with both hands, but she jabbed at him with the cutter. He managed to snatch his hand away just in time.
Jesus, she really meant business.
“Mama, stop that!” Zoe stepped from around him, but Mrs. Bellini slashed at her, too.
“Not with him. Why him? You break my heart!”
Ethan used his body to shield both Padric and Zoe from her mother’s rage.
“Mama, I swear if you hurt Ethan, I won’t forgive you. He’s not even involved in this. He’s a bodyguard.”
“Security specialist,” Ethan said under his breath. “For the record.”
“Hurt him?” Mrs. Bellini ranted. “I’m the one who is hurt. This boy’s family destroyed my life! Stole my husband. Broke his heart and killed him. No one has paid for that crime. And now he’s here with his mouth on my daughter? I won’t stand for it!”
Padric spoke up in a soothing tone. “Mrs. Bellini, I’m really sorry about what happened—”
“Sorry? Sorry will never be enough. It cannot be enough! Your sorry isn’t worth my spit.” She spat toward the floor, but it hit Ethan’s shoe instead.
Keeping his voice calm and even, Ethan spoke to the trembling woman still gripping her pizza cutter. “Ma’am, it sounds like you have some real grievances. Maybe you’d like to talk about it somewhere more private. Everyone in here is listening right now.”
They all glanced at the throng of bidders gathered around, watching with various expressions of glee and disbelief. Padric caught sight of a few smartphones recording the action.
Great, if this went viral, he was going to look like a jackass.
“Ethan, step aside. If Mrs. Bellini wants to yell at me, I’m okay with that.”
“But Padric—”
“It’s okay. Please.”
Ethan reluctantly stepped to the side, but every alert line in his body said he wasn’t going to let anyone get hurt.
“Mrs. Bellini, I know you have things to say. But I hate to interrupt the auction. Can we go talk somewhere else?”
Mrs. Bellini finally seemed to realize where she was. She lowered the pizza cutter a few inches. He put out his hand to take it from her but she pointed it at him again.
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands in a “you win” gesture. “If you want to get into it here in front of the entire town of Lost Harbor, that’s up to you.”
“I was humiliated once already.” Her cheeks quivered as if she were holding back too much emotion to handle. “Thanks to your bitch of a mother.”
Padric hissed in a breath. It hurt more than he’d imagined to hear Mrs. Bellini’s fury toward his family.
“Mama!” Zoe darted forward. “This is wrong. Padric didn’t do anything to you
. You’re blaming him for something he didn’t do. Let’s just go home.”
Mrs. Bellini fixed her with a tragic look. “You’re a bad daughter. You’re dead to me.”
“Oh, I’m dead to you, am I? Not the first time I’ve heard that. Come on.” Giving the pizza cutter a wide berth, Zoe came around her other side and took hold of the walker. “Let’s get you home. You shouldn’t even be here. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? How did you get here?”
Mrs. Bellini didn’t answer, but she dropped the pizza cutter on the floor. Ethan bent to snatch it up before something else could happen to it.
Zoe continued. “And I have every right to kiss whoever I want, including Padric. You can’t control me with your histrionics. I’m not fifteen anymore.”
Padric kept his gaze on Mrs. Bellini’s face. She didn’t seem to be listening to Zoe. Her gaze wandered and face looked strange, almost distorted. She’d always been a queenly, bustling figure, ruling her household with a mixture of strict rules, fiery love and stormy outbursts. Now she was more hunched, more wrinkled, but still forceful.
Except that the fight seemed to have gone out of her. She slumped, gripping the handles of the walker as Zoe talked on.
“Wait,” said Padric. Zoe didn’t hear him, so he took a step forward. “Mrs. Bellini, are you okay? Can you breathe?”
Even though he hadn’t gotten far with the volunteer firefighter training, he knew something was wrong. She swayed back and forth, as if she was having trouble keeping her balance.
“Can you say your name, Mrs. Bellini?”
She made a garbled, unrecognizable sound.
“I think she’s having a stroke,” he called to Ethan. “Someone get help!”
About ten people leaped forward. Of all places to have a stroke, the auction for the volunteer fire department was a pretty good spot.
Nate shoved Padric aside and took charge. He yelled, “Call dispatch. We’re going to need an ambulance.”
They lowered her to the floor and loosened her clothing. “Mrs. Bellini,” Nate said in a calm voice. “Please listen carefully. Do you know who I am?”
Yours Since Yesterday Page 19