I swallowed hard. I’d missed so damn much. “Why does Caelyn have custody?”
Hunter stiffened on his stool. “The state took the kids.”
“Those parents always were a waste of space,” I muttered.
Ethan’s expression hardened. “Understatement of the century.”
My gaze traveled to the back door. That now-familiar pull had returned. Why the hell hadn’t Bell told me that she’d been the one to renovate the bar when we’d gone over the expenses from the past few years? My gut twisted. The better question was why would she? She didn’t trust me. Wanted me out of her life as fast as humanly possible. I could leave her the bar at the end of summer. I could give her the island then, too. But I wanted to earn her forgiveness first. Her forgiveness and, hopefully, even her friendship.
I pushed to my feet. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Hunter’s brows drew together. “Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to Bell about something.” The look on my brother’s face was not a happy one. I bristled. I still hadn’t figured out what was going on between the two of them. If they were friends or more. But it didn’t matter. I had atoning to do, and he wasn’t going to stand in my way.
10
Bell
I collapsed into one of the wrought iron chairs on the back patio, rubbing the spot between my breasts. Tears burned the backs of my eyes. Everything was a swirling mess of emotions. Life turned on its head by one single action. One person returning.
Not only was I in a fight with Hunter, but there was a longing within me that I hadn’t felt in years. A grief that had dulled, suddenly flaring to life again in vivid technicolor. It wasn’t grief for my sister, but for my friend. A yearning for the man that was now right in front of me. I’d put the loss of him to rest long ago, but it was as if seeing him again had brought it all back. He was right there, close enough for me to reach out and grab. But I’d never be able to keep him there.
Ford had made it clear that he wasn’t on Anchor to stay. He was just another tourist passing through. But one who had the power to leave wreckage in his wake. And those ruins would be me. He wouldn’t even mean to do it, but I’d be destroyed all the same. It was happening already. Just those little glimpses of the banter we used to share, the comradery, the support. He’d give me those glimpses, maybe even a long, hard look, but then he’d take them with him when he left. And I would have to live with that hole in my chest all over again.
The hinges on the back door squeaked as it opened. I didn’t look to see who it was, just kept staring out at the ocean. There was no one in the bar that I particularly wanted to talk to at the moment. If I didn’t make eye contact, maybe they’d get the picture and leave me the hell alone.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was you who renovated the bar?”
Ford’s voice was rough, his tone a little bit pissed, a touch hurt. I could still read him like we hadn’t been apart for over a decade. I lifted a single shoulder and then let it fall. “What does it matter?”
He yanked out the chair next to me, the metal grating against the stone patio. “It matters to me.”
I kept my gaze trained on the water, saying nothing. Silence was my only armor. Each word I gave him would make it harder when he walked away, went back to his fancy LA life, and left my memories to dim.
Ford reached out his hand, snaking it under the table and resting it on mine, squeezing. The move took me by surprise, and I didn’t have a chance to sidestep it. Honestly, though, I wasn’t sure I would’ve tried. It was the first time he had touched me. The first physical comfort I’d gotten from him in eleven years. His palm seemed to burn my skin, searing itself there. I stared down at our hands. His looked different than I remembered, a little more weathered, tanner than before.
He squeezed again. “Bell…I want to fix things between us. I know it won’t be easy, but I’ll do whatever I can.” His jaw worked. “I miss my friend.”
I swallowed, a jumble of emotions gathering at the back of my throat. “Some things aren’t fixable.” It was physically painful to say that, as if each word were made of a ball of barbed wire. But it was the truth. A reality I’d learned the hardest way. There were just some things that couldn’t be fixed by any amount of apologies or superglue.
Ford’s hand spasmed around mine. “Please. You have to let me try.”
I didn’t have to let him do shit. But as I stared into his blue eyes, ones that hadn’t changed a bit, I found that I was still a sucker for his pain. Would do whatever I could to ease it. Even if that made me stupid. Even if it meant that I’d be hurting even more in three months’ time. I swallowed that ball of emotion again. “I can’t give you what we had before—” My voice hitched. “It’s too hard, and I…I’m not the same person I used to be.”
“Neither am I, Bell. It would be impossible for us to be those people.”
“All I can give you is a fresh start. We can get to know each other as the people we are now.” My gaze hardened. “I don’t want to dig up the past, Ford. It’s a no-go zone. You go there, and we’re done.” It was too hard. I couldn’t go there with him when all I’d wanted for so many years was his comfort and support. To talk about Violet with the one person who’d loved her as much as I did, but who also understood us both better than anyone.
Ford gave my hand one more squeeze and then released me. Suddenly, there was air back in my lungs, as if I could finally take a breath after holding it for far too long. Still, I missed the touch just the same. “I can do that, Bell.” He eased back against his chair. “Hunter and Caelyn said you’re taking interior design classes.”
“Those two are worse gossips than the Anchor knitting circle.”
Ford chuckled. “Those ladies still at it?”
I grinned. “Worse than ever.”
“So, you thinking of starting your own business?”
I rolled my lips together and looked down at my hands. “I’m not sure. I love reinventing a space, bringing old pieces of furniture back to life. I’ve done a few projects here and there for friends…the bar is the biggest by far, though.”
What I didn’t say was that the bar was meant to be my business card. Something that could show what I was capable of. But my daydreams of restoring furniture and spaces as a career had gone by the wayside when I stepped in to make sure The Catch stayed afloat.
“You did a great job.”
I arched a brow at Ford. “Really? Mister fancy city, who probably pays someone hundreds of thousands of dollars to decorate his clubs, thinks my two-thousand-dollar reno of The Catch is great?”
Ford shook his head but did it while grinning. “I should’ve known you’d never let me live down creating swanky bars for a living.”
I chuckled. “They’re just so pretty.” I said “pretty” as if it were a dirty word. The photos I’d seen of Ford’s clubs were beautiful, but they were too perfect, everything sleek and matching. I needed something with a little more soul.
Ford’s grin turned into a smirk. “You looked me up.”
I shrugged. “I might’ve given you a Google.”
He barked out a laugh. “That sounds like something dirty.”
“Trust me, if Googling was dirty, I wouldn’t be doing it to you.”
There was a quick flare of heat in Ford’s eyes before he hid it. A flame that had my stomach dipping like I was on a rollercoaster. Not once in all the time we’d spent together had I ever seen any hint of attraction, any sign that he saw me as anything but an honorary kid sister. The briefest flicker of hope tried to take root in my belly, and I immediately locked it down. I was not going there. Couldn’t for many reasons. I forced my gaze away from Ford’s broad shoulders and stubbled jaw.
His throat cleared. “I really did mean it. You did an amazing job with the bar. I might have to hire you away. Bring you to LA for my next project.”
“You couldn’t afford me, and I can’t say I’m dying to visit a city where half the residents have plastic i
n their faces.” Okay, so I was a little bitter. But it almost felt like Los Angeles was the city that had stolen Ford away. I wasn’t eager to stroll its streets.
Ford laughed. “It’s not that bad. There’re lots of little hidden gems only longtime locals know about, and you can’t beat the view from my house.”
“And the access to swimsuit models.”
“I won’t lie and say that’s a hardship.”
I threw up my hands with a sound of disgust. “Men.”
“What can I say, we’re visual creatures. We like looking at pretty things.”
I just shook my head and turned back to the ocean.
“So, how are your parents?”
The question had the bit of ease that had slipped into my muscles fleeing again. “They’re the same.” Nothing and no one would ever change Bruce and Heather Kipton. Not even the death of one daughter, and the fleeing of the other. Everything would always be someone else’s fault. They would never consider looking around to see if they might be the cause of anything.
“They still on the island?”
“Yeah. Dad still has his practice, and Mom’s still organizing events for whatever charity she’s into this month.”
“You see them much?”
I didn’t. I barely saw them at all. I’d tried when I got back from college. Did a couple of family dinners. But each one included a pitch from Dad on taking the MCAT so I could apply to medical school and join his practice, and Mom’s subtle digs at my clothes and hair. The final straw had been when my mother had wailed, “Why can’t you just be more like your sister was?” when I refused to be set up with one of her friend’s sons. I saw them only in passing now. And it was always awkward.
I didn’t want to go there with Ford. It would feel too much like the way things used to be. I pushed to my feet. “I’d better get back to it. We’re about to open.”
A muscle in Ford’s cheek flickered. “Of course. I’ll be right in.”
I headed for the bar, leaving Ford to sit and stare at the ocean—just like he’d leave me one day soon.
11
Ford
The bell over the door of The Mad Baker jingled as I pushed inside. My palms dampened as I took in the familiar sights and smells. I’d mostly been avoiding my old haunts. Hell, I’d been avoiding the shops in town entirely. They all held reminders of Violet. Of Bell. But my conversations with Bell and the guys the other day had been a wake-up call. I didn’t want to lose her.
Lose her wasn’t exactly the right phrase. She’d been lost to me for over a decade, but seeing her again…I knew I didn’t want that to turn into forever. She might not be able to forgive me for the accident, for not facing her afterward, but maybe I could worm my way back into her life. And if there were any remnants of the girl I used to know, her stomach was a great place to start.
“Lordy be, is that you, Ford Hardy?” Jules Bloomington, the owner of The Mad Baker, stepped out from the kitchen. Her hair was all white now instead of the salt-and-pepper I remembered, her face a little more lined, but her smile was just as warm as it had always been. She rounded the counter and held out her arms. “Get over here and give me a hug, boy.”
Something in my chest loosened a fraction as the older woman wrapped her arms around me. “Hey, Jules.”
She squeezed me hard and then released me, smacking me upside the head as she did so. “What were you thinking, staying gone so long? We missed you around here.” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “That shadow of yours missed you especially.”
Heat crept up the back of my neck. “I haven’t been ready to come back.”
“You ready now?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. But I’m here.”
She gave me a quick nod of approval. “Actions are more important than words anyway. What can I get you?”
I took in the bakery cases full to the brim with pastries, cakes, and pies. The store was aptly named, with cakes decorated in outrageous designs and baked goods in all sorts of combinations you thought would be odd but were actually delicious. “Are the snickerdoodle muffins still Bell’s favorite?”
A huge smile spread over Jules’ face. “They sure are, and I just pulled some out of the oven.” She turned to the kitchen. “Carissa, will you grab me two snickerdoodle muffins?” I pulled my wallet out, but Jules held up a hand. “Don’t even think about it. This is a welcome back gift. It does my heart good to see you coming to your senses.”
I cleared my throat. “Thanks, Jules. I missed you, too.”
“That girl missed you more.” A wistful look filled her features. “She still comes in every Saturday like the three of you used to. Still gets an ice cream from Two Scoops every year on the day school lets out. Vi might be gone, but there are still people here who love you.”
“Jules…” Her name came out as a hoarse plea. I couldn’t take it. Couldn’t handle her words. Just being in the bakery was almost too much to bear. The treats I used to pick up to leave in Vi’s locker as a surprise. All the times we’d brought Bell here to escape the girls’ parents. But when you added the pain I knew Bell had experienced because my reflexes hadn’t been fast enough… It was all too much. That familiar, insidious black tar of self-hatred inched through my body in a slow wave.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m just glad you’re back.” Jules smiled at me, but it was forced now.
“It’s okay.” I looked out to the street. The sidewalk the three of us had walked down countless times. It felt like another life. But it was one I had to make peace with. Because if I didn’t, I’d lose everything I had left: my family, the bar, Bell. I’d pushed them all to the side for so long, I’d forgotten how important they were to me. But less than a week back, and I knew I didn’t want to put them on the back burner ever again. They were too important. Too vital. So, I was just going to have to deal with the past.
“Ford, do you remember my granddaughter, Carissa? She was quite a bit younger than you, but she grew up here, too.”
The brown-haired girl, who looked to be in her early twenties, blushed as she handed Jules a bakery bag, and I was hit with the memory of a little girl helping Jules frost cupcakes on the weekends. “Yeah, nice to see you again, Carissa.”
She ducked her head but smiled. “You were Violet’s boyfriend, right?” As soon as the last word was out of her mouth, her eyes widened. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just meant that I remember you two. You guys were such a cute couple.”
I fought the wince that twitched through my muscles. “It’s all right.”
“Well, uh, I better get back to it.” Carissa turned on her heel and fled back to the kitchen.
Jules let out a little laugh, handing me the bag. “That girl is as flighty as a feral cat, but she’s a damn good baker.”
I forced a smile. “Must’ve learned from the best.”
“Now don’t you go kissing up to me, Ford Hardy. Those muffins are your only freebies.”
“I’ll pay my way next time. I promise.”
“Sounds good. Don’t be a stranger. And tell Bell I said hi.”
“I will,” I called over my shoulder as I opened the door and stepped out into the cool spring air. I headed back towards The Catch, paper sack in hand. Each storefront I passed held another memory, a mixture of joy and pain. The restaurant I’d taken Violet to on our first official date. The florist where I’d gotten her homecoming corsages. The paint-your-own-pottery shop we’d taken Bell to every year for her birthday. My chest got tighter with each step, but I didn’t fight it the way I usually did. Instead, I let the memories come, passing through me from one shop to the next.
My gaze caught on a figure across the street. One all too familiar and not exactly welcome. Heather Kipton froze mid-step, her gaze narrowing into a glare. I thought that maybe there’d been a flicker of pain in her eyes, but now I only saw hatred. It wasn’t the first disdainful gaze that had been sent my way since I’d returned, but it was the fiercest.
That familiar vise tightened around my ribs, making it hard to take a full breath. This was what I would have to live with, day in and day out, for as long as I stayed on Anchor. The looks that accused without saying a single word. I forced my eyes closed for a brief moment. It was worth it. For my family. For Bell. It wasn’t forever, it was just one summer. I could endure anything for that long if it meant earning their forgiveness.
I blinked, my vision coming into focus again, but Mrs. Kipton was gone, almost as if she’d never been there at all. I looked around as I crossed the street, no sign of her anywhere. God, I was losing it. Or maybe my mind was simply looking for excuses to leave Anchor already. But that wasn’t going to happen.
I rolled my shoulders back as I reached the door to The Catch, pulling out my keys and unbolting the lock. I shut the door behind me, flipping the lock back into place. The lights were on, and music was playing low in the background. My gaze caught on Bell behind the bar. Her hair was piled high on her head as she stretched up on her tiptoes to count bottles of liquor on a shelf. She wore a t-shirt that hugged her curves in a way that meant torture for every guy that walked through the doors of this place today. The Catch was printed in distressed red lettering across her chest. I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze away. I didn’t remember that anywhere in the uniform.
I cleared my throat, and Bell startled, a hand flying to that chest my eyes hadn’t been able to look away from. “Geez, Ford. Give a girl a heart attack, why don’t you?”
I held up the bag. “I come bearing gifts.”
Bell’s eyes lit up in a way that made the green seem to sparkle as she took in the bag. “Jules?” I nodded. “Snickerdoodle?”
“Yup. But one’s for me.”
“I’ll get the coffee.” She paused, her smile faltering slightly. “How do you take yours?”
It was one of those moments where we both realized that the people we were now were strangers to each other. We hadn’t drunk coffee when we were in each other’s lives. God, we’d been babies. Babies who’d had to grow up way too damn fast. “Black. I take mine black. How do you take yours?” I couldn’t resist asking. There was so much about this Bell I didn’t know, and I wanted to change that.
Reckless Memories Page 7