Moore than a Feeling (Moore Than a Feeling #1; Needing Moore #4)

by Julie A. Richman

  Looking at him sad-eyed, she sighed. “Maybe I just need closure. I just want to see him and talk to him.”

  “He could show up this weekend.”

  “Not likely. He would’ve been there already.”

  “Well, we’re just getting there,” he remarked.

  “You have a point.” Taking a sip of her water, “I am really dehydrated from drinking.” Leading them out to Fourth Avenue through a semi-industrial area, “It gets prettier and a lot shadier once we cross over West Main Street,” Holly promised.

  “This is fine, I’m sweating out some of the alcohol,” he commented, taking in his surroundings.

  “The breeze on the top deck of the boat should wake us up.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay. I can always take the ferry home tonight.”

  “If you want to leave, I’m not going to make you stay. But seriously, Pierce, trust me, you will be totally welcome. My family will be thrilled that you got me out here. The only thing to worry about is that you might never want to leave.”

  Before even opening his eyes, he was aware of two things, a headache that was positively blinding, even with his eyes closed, and that he was being watched. Feeling a strand of his shoulder-length hair being lifted from his face, Pierce opened his eyes to find himself eye-to-eye with a pair of eyes the color of dark molten chocolate.

  “You must be Po,” his voice was hoarse.

  She nodded and silently held out a bottle of spring water in her left hand and a bottle of aspirin in her right. Sitting up, he took them from her, shaking three pills from the bottle and downing them with the water. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, the journey to his current location slowly coming back to him. When he opened his eyes, he heard a rustle from the foot of the bed, and discovered a second set of eyes that had been watching him. In contrast to his sister, his were a clear blue, almost white surrounding the pupil.

  “And you must be Natie.”

  Giggling, the little boy jumped on the bed, a motion Pierce felt excruciatingly in each and every dehydrated brain cell trapped inside his exploding skull.

  “Holly said you probably had a headache.”

  Pierce smiled, hearing the remnants of a British accent in the little girl’s voice. Holly had told him about Po’s adoption from a Zambian orphanage.

  “I’ll bet she’s got one, too,” he commented.

  Portia’s eyes opened wide as she nodded her head. Reaching out, she stroked his hair, “You’ve got really pretty hair.”

  “Wanna see what I do with it?” Pierce grabbed his hair tie from the nightstand and quickly twisted it into a man bun.

  “I wish my hair was long enough to do that.” Natie looked on enviously.

  “Don’t let your mom cut your hair all summer and it might be close to long enough.”

  “Do not corrupt my brother and sister.” Holly was at the door looking in, holding towels.

  Pierce laughed. “I’ll leave the corruption to you. Jack was your idea after all.”

  Sitting next to Pierce on the bed, Natie ran his fingers through his own loose blond curls trying to figure out how to twist them into a bun.

  “Okay, you two, let’s give Pierce some space.” She ushered them out and handed her new friend the towels. “There’s a great private outdoor shower on the deck right outside those French doors.” She pointed across the room.

  “I should probably look at the ferry schedule back.”

  “Tonight? You just got here. And then we passed out. There’s still so much to show you.”

  “I don’t want to crash your family’s weekend.”

  “My family would be pissed if you left. Like I said, this beach house is about the more the merrier and good times. They love having people.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. My brother and his fiancée are here. Family friends Seth and Henry and Yoli and Debbie are here, too.”

  “I don’t want to put anyone out.”

  Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, “I won’t make you stay if you really want to go, but this house has seven bedrooms, so you are not putting anyone out.”

  “Seven bedrooms? Wow. It felt like we were walking into the Kennedy Compound when we got here earlier, but I thought that was just because I was so drunk.”

  “Don’t say that in front of Seth. He’s done most of the decorating and would consider being compared to the Kennedy Compound an insult. But anything Jackie, he’d be more than thrilled with. So, you’ll stay?” With a smile, she left the room before he could answer.

  A beautiful beachfront house on Fire Island with a menagerie of people I don’t know, this is either going to be epic or the scariest fucking weekend of my life, thought Pierce, as he headed out the French doors to the shower.

  Streams of warm water cascading down the back of his head alleviated the muscle tension in his neck and shoulders, easing what was left of his dehydration headache. Straightening up, the droplets before his eyes prismed in the sunlight, their sparkle so brilliant he decided that it was an omen that the weekend would end up being epic.

  “Two more for dinner,” Holly announced, walking into the living room with Pierce following a step behind.

  “So, what are we now? Fifteen instead of thirteen?” Schooner Moore looked around the room for confirmation as he approached his daughter and wrapped her in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, sweetheart.” Reaching out his hand, he shook hands with his daughter’s new friend, “Schooner Moore.”

  Just introducing himself, he commands the room, thought Pierce. “Pierce Cooper.” Taking Schooner’s hand, it was impossible not to feel his energy. He oozed power, but in a very understated, yet charismatic way.

  “So, we’re fifteen now?” Schooner pulled out his cell. “I should just buy that damn place,” he muttered, stepping out of the room as he called the restaurant.

  As Holly introduced Pierce to their sizeable crowd, she couldn’t help but notice the consistency of the questioning looks, the unasked question crowding the forefront of everyone’s mind. New boyfriend?

  “Pierce is Jenna’s brother, you know, my lab partner, and he was telling me earlier today that he’s never been to Fire Island.”

  “So, you just decided to hop a train?” Mia looked amused.

  “Well, after half a fifth of Jack Daniel’s, it seemed like a good idea.” Holly leaned against the island of the open kitchen.

  The room erupted in laughter and disbelief.

  “Wait a minute. A fifth of Jack and I’m the one everyone considers the problem child,” Zac piped in. Looking at Pierce, “Don’t let her fool you with that brainy, Ivy League stuff. She’s the troublemaker, I’m just the one who got blamed. The truth finally comes out,” he kidded, ribbing his sister.

  “Jack Daniel’s?” Schooner’s upper lip curled with disgust. “Didn’t I teach you better?”

  “We were sitting on a stoop and it was in a paper bag,” Holly explained.

  “You were stooping?” Mia was amused.

  “Yes, I stooped today.” Holly bragged to Mia as if she’d just been invited to sit at the cool kids’ lunch table. Pointing to Pierce, “He stole my stoop virginity.”

  “Jack and a bag are definitely appropriate for stooping,” Mia gave her approval. “Ah, memories,” she smiled wistfully. “And you did it in Brooklyn. I’m proud.”

  “You are such a derelict, BBC.” Seth was looking at Mia the same way Schooner was looking at his daughter and her new tatted-up friend.

  “What is stooping?” Yoli asked. “I am totally lost.”

  “I live on arguably the street with the best stoops in all the five boroughs and you’d never catch anyone stooping on my block.” Seth was mortified.

  “Is anybody going to tell us what stooping is?” Henry looked as confused as Yoli.

  Laughing, Mia looked at Pierce. “They are all Californians. Not a game of stoopball between ʼem.”

  Pierce smiled at Mia. He knew by her
accent and her attitude that he liked her. “Now, that’s a shame. Imagine not having stooping memories?” he asked Mia.

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t. Hot summer nights stooping. I can’t even imagine not having those memories.”

  “Right,” he acknowledged.

  “Okay, you two, enough of the I Love New York moment, tell us about stooping.” Schooner had opened one of the distressed, white clapboard kitchen cabinets and pulled a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue from the top shelf.

  “Stooping,” began newly minted stooping expert, Holly Moore, “is the art of successfully hanging out on the staircase, or as it is known, a stoop, in front of a building. Seth’s brownstone has a stoop. Gaby and Charles’s brownstone has a stoop. And today Pierce and I stooped in Carroll Gardens.”

  “And got shitfaced,” Zac added, more than slightly surprised by his generally good girl sister’s escapade.

  “Yes, and got very shitfaced,” Pierce confirmed.

  “As witnessed by the fact that you guys got on a train.” Mia was very amused and thrilled to see Holly letting loose and having some fun for a change.

  “And then walked from the train to the ferry.” Holly filled in that detail.

  “No way,” Zac was laughing at his sister. “You must’ve still been shitfaced.”

  “We were,” Holly and Pierce announced in stereo.

  Shaking his head, but wearing an entertained smile, Schooner rejoined them, handing Holly and Pierce each a glass with two fingers of Johnnie. “Hair of the dog. This will actually make you feel better.”

  Taking sips, Holly and Pierce looked at one another, smiling.

  “Man, that’s good. Thank you, Mr. Moore.”

  “Schooner,” he corrected.

  “Schooner.” Pierce nodded. “That is so smooth.”

  Mia looked at her watch, “I think we need to get ready to move on out and head to the restaurant. Charles, Gaby, and Paola are meeting us there.”

  As they walked toward town, Pierce took in the houses set behind the scrubby beach pines. “This is really not like anyplace I have ever been.” He was mesmerized by the beach community with no cars that had been a stone’s throw from him his entire life. Assuming it was just another Hamptons, he was pleasantly surprised by this laid-back community. While obviously affluent, it didn’t rely on glitz for its charm, but rather embraced a more down-to-Earth ethos than the East End beach towns.

  “It’s great, isn’t it? I remember the first time I came out a few years ago, I didn’t want to leave,” Yoli confessed.

  “Are you hanging in there?” Mia asked Holly.

  “I’m a little freaked out. But that shot of Johnnie Walker that Dad gave me helped not only with the after-effects of Jack, but also my confidence.” Turning to Pierce, she explained, “The place we’re going for dinner, Aiden managed it for years. And I worked there during the summers.”

  “So, everyone there knows you as a couple.”

  She nodded.

  “You’ll be fine. You’ve got quite a posse.”

  The staff reception was warm and loving as soon as Holly entered the establishment, her former colleagues showering her with love and concern.

  “Hey, Holly, we need extra help tonight. I understand there’s a party of fifteen,” kidded Sheila, a waitress with twenty years under her belt at this beach establishment. “Oh, wait, it’s you.” She gave Schooner a flirtatious sneer.

  “How’s my girl?” He embraced her in a side hug.

  Sticking her nose into his fresh cotton shirt, she breathed in deeply. “Better now that I’ve gotten a whiff of you, handsome.” Breathing in loudly a second time, “I missed this.” And then she turned to the group. “Let me show you to your table.”

  They were seated for no more than two minutes when Sheila reappeared with a glass of scotch for Schooner that he had yet to order.

  “You take such good care of me.” He hit her with his heart-melting smile.

  “If you ever want to kick him out, I’m just saying,” she said to Mia.

  “Watch what you wish for,” quipped Mia, causing everyone to laugh, including Schooner.

  “You’re new and very handsome.” Sheila took notice of Pierce.

  “And a younger model,” Seth was quick to point out without looking up from his menu.

  “Damn millennials are replacing us everywhere,” Schooner muttered with a smile as he picked up his menu.

  After ordering, Holly quickly excused herself and headed toward the bar where Sheila welcomed her with a smile as she loaded drinks onto her tray.

  “Is that your new boyfriend?” Sheila was curious.

  “No. No. He’s a friend’s brother. He’s never been to Fire Island, so I invited him out to see it.” Pausing, Holly took a deep breath before spitting out the question haunting her. “Have you seen him?”

  Him. There was only one him that Holly would be referring to, and sadly, Sheila shook her head. “The one time he was out here, he didn’t step foot in this place to say hello to any of us, that stinker. We were like his family for years. No. Let me correct that. We were closer than his family. And he doesn’t even come in to let us know he’s back.”

  “I know the feeling. I’ve been trying to reach him since I heard he had been out here. And nothing. Even his parents won’t respond.” Holly’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Tommy worked his way over from the far end of the bar where he finished serving two women.

  Leaning across the teak and brass bar, Holly gave her former co-worker a big kiss. “How are you, handsome?” She continued their repartee.

  “Much better now that I’m looking at you.” His eyes crinkled with his smile.

  “We were just talking about our former boss,” Sheila filled him in.

  “Have you heard from him?” he asked Holly.

  “Not a word. You didn’t see him when he was out here?” Holly was dying for information. Any tidbit, just something.

  The older bartender shook his head. “No. He avoided this place. He clearly didn’t want to see us.” Tommy wasn’t hiding his hurt. “He was like a son to me.”

  “I know.” Holly reached across the bar, taking his hand.

  “And what he did to you. That’s just crappy,” he added.

  “Was she with him? Do you know?” Holly referred to Aiden’s ex, the woman he dumped her for. Please say no, she silently begged.

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t hear anything about her being out here with him.” Leaning across the bar, Tommy whispered to Holly, “You’re still hung up on him, aren’t you, doll?”

  Nodding, “I know it’s probably stupid.”

  “Not stupid. You loved the guy. That was very evident.”

  “Was I a fool, Tommy, to think he loved me, too?” Holly searched his eyes.

  “Ya know, Sheila and I were just talking about that the other day. The guy worshipped the ground you walked on. He acted like he was the most fortunate son of a bitch on Earth because he had you.”

  “Maybe that’s it. Maybe he was just acting.”

  “Nah, he loved you, Holly. Maybe too much,” he added.

  “Do you think that scared him?”

  “I dunno. All I know is the guy was crazy in love with you. And then he wasn’t. Just like that. Doesn’t make sense. And like Judge Judy says, ‘If it don’t make sense, it ain’t the truth.’”

  “If he shows up this summer, can you tell him I really need talk to him, I just want to know he’s okay.” It was painful even talking about Aiden.

  “Sure thing, doll,” Tommy promised.

  “You’re the best,” she flashed him a smile before leaving to go back to the table.

  Sitting down next to Pierce, Holly was glad to see he was involved in a conversation with Zac and had blended in well with the Moore party. From down the table, their family friend Gaby mouthed, “He’s hot,” to which Holly mouthed back, “Just a friend.” Caught mid-mouthing, Holly turned to Pierce and confessed. “Every
one wants to know if we’re a thing.”

  Looking down the table to Gaby, “I wish. But she’s hung up on another guy and I’ve already missed the transition guy spot.”

  “And that’s a damn shame,” muttered Schooner.

  Mia gave him a pointed look.

  “Well, it’s true. Think of how much better Thanksgiving would’ve been if Pierce had been there.”

  “Do you mean I wouldn’t have thrown up?” Natie chimed in.

  “No, sweetie. That was some strategically timed vomiting, and we all were thankful for that,” Mia explained.

  “I was thankful we weren’t there,” laughed Charles. “Although you do realize I’m the only one who’s never met him.” He referred to Tom.

  “That’s right. I met you the night I threw him out.” Mia smiled at the memory. “What a great night that turned out to be. We ate tuna at Kiev.”

  “They are talking about transition guy,” Holly explained to Pierce in a whisper.

  “Next subject,” Schooner declared, just as pots of steamers were delivered to the table.

  “Clammies,” squealed buddies Portia and Paola from the far end of the table, reaching into the heavy aluminum pot closest to them.

  “So, Pierce, we know you’re a stooper, and that you and my daughter both arrived in a stupor today. What else should we know about you?” Schooner looked directly at the younger man.

  Meeting his gaze, “I’m a struggling musician who pays my bills programming for a small, tech start-up.”

  “What does the company do?” Schooner cleaned a clam, swirling it in a bowl of broth, the sand vortex settling to the bottom.

  “We provide automation synchronization with cloud-based solutions,” he explained.

  “Interesting. And the music?”

  “I’ve got a three-piece band. Guitar, keyboards, and drums. And unfortunately, we’ve got no gigs lined up because both my keyboard player and drummer have mono.” He dipped his clam in a bowl of drawn butter.

  Schooner slowly chewed the steamer in his mouth, staring at Pierce. Finally, he spoke, “Don’t kiss my daughter.”

  “Dad!” Holly stretched the plea into three syllables.

  Holding onto his serious expression, it was a moment before Schooner broke into a smile. “Eh, even with mono, he’s a drastic improvement.”