But she didn’t seem to get the flip side of her proposals—that she believed they’d been doing things all wrong before she arrived. The community of Lost Harbor had persisted through nearly a hundred Alaska winters. People here knew how to survive.
“I don’t have a sappy look. I’m never sappy except when it comes to YouTube kitten videos, and you are the opposite of a kitten video.”
He snorted. “You’re sappy about everything. You’re sappy about my dog. You’re sappy about a random bird with a broken wing. You’re sappy about a soda can getting thrown into the ocean.”
“That’s not sappiness. That’s fury.” Her eyes sparked and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose seemed to glow. Everything about Megan was warm and glowing and tempting, like a fire on a cold night. “Do you know what those sharp edges can do to a sea otter if it tries to stick its nose inside?”
He pointed at her face. “Sappy.”
“Argh, just when I start to think you’re a human being after all, you turn right back into Lucifer.”
“Lucifer?”
“Oh, just a secret nickname I have for you.” A rosy flush covered her cheeks. “Sorry, you weren’t supposed to know about that.”
To be honest, he kind of liked the fact that she had a secret nickname for him. It meant that he took up space in her thoughts—even if it wasn’t flattering. “Maybe I need a nickname for you too.”
“No, you really don’t,” she said quickly. “You already call me ‘city girl’ and ‘bird nerd’ and that’s more than enough.”
“But that’s so generic. There are millions of city girls, but there’s only one Megan Miller.” He scrutinized her through narrowed eyes, various names running through his mind. The problem was, none of them were especially insulting. M’n M, for her initials? Flower child, for her eco-minded crusades? Hippie-chick?
“I’ve got it.” He plucked the yellow package of sweetener from the counter, the one that had represented the Forget Me Not. “How about Splenda?”
“Splenda? What kind of nickname is that?”
“A terrible one,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, but I can’t come up with anything truly Megan-bashing. I guess you’re off the hook when it comes to a nickname. I’ll just stick with ‘short-timer.’”
A stricken look came across her face. Oh hell—he’d managed to land on the one that actually hurt, when it was the last thing he’d intended.
But before he could take it back, she propped her elbow on the counter and faced him. “What’s this all about, Lucas? You said you wanted a peace treaty. Why?”
He hauled in a breath and shifted his focus away from the fall of her silky hair over her shoulder. “I need your help,” he admitted.
Her eyes widened. “Something to do with the slip assignments?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“You want to pass some clients my way?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ll consider that, but no, it’s not related to boats or fishing or anything like that. It’s about Boris Clancy.”
For a moment she stared at him blankly. “Boris? The old fisherman with the pet chicken who rides in his bike basket?”
“Yes. He’s…a little off, as you know. When he gets an idea in his head, he won’t let it go. And he decided long ago that he hates me.”
“Well, no comment about that. He’s always been friendly to me.”
“Exactly. He must like you.”
“I’m often catnip for mentally challenged men. It’s been a theme my whole life,” she said ruefully.
He would guess that she was catnip for more men than she knew. But there was no need to get into that. “It sounds like he trusts you.”
“Okay, so?” Her forehead creased in confusion, her face turned to his like a flower. For a moment he flashed on the sight of her in a bikini, dancing on the deck of her boat. That sweet curve of her waist taunted him. He shoved the image aside.
“He was in the harbor the night my father died. He was the one who called 911 when he saw him in the water. But there’s no way he’ll talk to me.”
“Your father’s drowning was…an accident, wasn’t it?” Her tentative tone made him impatient. He didn’t like pussyfooting around basic facts.
“His death was ruled an accident, yes. But I’m not a hundred percent convinced that it was.”
After a long moment of scrutinizing his face, her eyes lit with understanding. “That’s what you’re doing back here. You want to find out more about your father’s death.”
“Not at first, it wasn’t. I came back for other reasons. Find someone to take over the Jack Hammer. Deal with the literal tons of junk my father left behind. I need to make sure my mother’s okay. But now…yeah. I need to be completely sure there was nothing sketchy about his death. Beyond his usual sketchiness,” he added. “And don’t get that sappy look, because you didn’t know him.”
“Stop calling me sappy or I won’t help you,” she snapped.
He pretended to zip his mouth shut. “Done.”
“I have to say, that was oddly satisfying.” Her smile seemed to sink into his bones like sunshine. “So you want to ask Boris some questions about what he saw that night?”
“That would be great, but I know he won’t talk to me. Maybe we could meet with him together.”
“I don’t know. I actually know why he hates you, and it’s not something he’s going to get over.”
That was a surprise. She and Boris must talk about all kinds of things. “What is it? Maybe I can fix it. I can be pretty charming when I want to be.” He bestowed his most seductive smile on her, the one his latest girlfriend had told him was equivalent to a panty-melting neutron bomb.
Megan reacted to it, all right, but her panties stayed right where they were. She frowned at him with disapproval. “Charm isn’t going to cut it. He hates you because Fidget attacked Ruffles once.”
“Ruffles?”
“His chicken. His last chicken,” she corrected. “Ruffles passed away in March and it was a very hard time for Boris. His new hen is called Anushka.”
Lucas drew in a long breath. How had he stepped into this rabbit hole? “You know all about his chickens?”
“He likes to talk about them. It’s harmless.”
“So you both love birds. No wonder you’ve bonded.”
“You like birds too, don’t give me crap about that. I could tell from your photo of the Caspian tern. There was a lot of love in that shot.”
Was she teasing him? He couldn’t tell. “I’ve always wondered what tern stew would taste like. Anyway, moving on,” he said quickly before she could get too riled up. “If I compliment his chicken, will he talk to me?”
“You can try.” She shrugged one shoulder, drawing his gaze to the line of her collarbone, firm under her freckled flesh. “You have both recently experienced a tragic loss.”
“You’re comparing my father to his chicken?”
She pulled an apologetic face. “Sorry. That chicken was his daily companion.”
“Whereas I fought with my father my whole life.” Maybe poor Boris had it worse. He wondered if Ruffles’ death haunted Boris the way his father’s haunted him.
“Anyway, it was a very tough time for him,” Megan said. “The fact that Fidget attacked Ruffles really weighs on him. He kind of blames your whole family because no one ever apologized.”
“He wants an official Holt family apology? He’ll get it. Is that enough? Will he talk to me if I apologize?”
“I have no idea, but it might be worth a try. Or, if you like, I can try to bring up the topic.”
“Great.” He liked that plan, since it didn’t involve bonding over dead chickens.
“Wait.” She rested a hand on his arm. Tanned and capable, its light weight sent warmth through his veins. “What do I get out of this peace treaty? There has to be a quid for the quo in here somewhere.”
“Name your quid. Anything you like. Dinner sometime?” That slipped out before he even realize
d it. Dinner? That sounded disturbingly as if he’d just asked her out. He hadn’t intended to do that. Going out with Megan would bring all kinds of complications. Not that he even wanted to date her. Or maybe he did, because the words had come out of his mouth without any forethought.
But it would be a bad idea. He only dated tourists who were just passing through. He didn’t like to be talked about. If he and Megan got together, after all their battles, it would be topic number one for the entire summer.
But how could he take it back without insulting her?
“You and Ruby, of course,” he added smoothly. “Ice cream cones for all.”
Her eyebrow arched ironically, as if she’d understood his entire silent thought process. “Nice save. Don’t worry, I have no need to go to dinner with you, with or without Ruby.”
Ouch. That stung, to be honest. Why did he keep misstepping with this woman? “A favor to be named later, then. Unless there’s something now that you’d like?”
She twisted her mouth to the side as she considered. “I’ll take the favor to be named later. I’m sure you’ll be useful at some point.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “That’s the sort of ringing endorsement a guy just can’t get enough of.”
She laughed, and their eyes met and held. A sweet kind of energy flowed between them, drawing him to her like a current. His breath hitched. He felt himself harden painfully.
So he was attracted to her. He’d suspected it, denied it, but right now, he couldn’t lie to himself. He had it bad for Megan Miller, bird nerd and city girl.
She cleared her throat, breaking the moment. “I’ll text you after I feel things out with Boris.”
“Good. Sounds good. You have my number?”
“Somewhere.” She sounded just as rattled as he felt. At least it cut both ways. “And you have my email address.”
“Yup.” He grabbed his mug, gathered hers as well, and took them both to the bin for dirty dishes. With his back to her, he had a chance to wrestle his erection under control. When he turned around again, he took the time to steel himself against her mouthwatering curves and teasing smile. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly.
He knew he sounded rude, like the Lucas Holt who had spoken to her with such hostility when she first bumped his boat. It was probably better that way. And a whole hell of a lot safer.
Chapter Thirteen
Sweet mother of pearl, what the heck had she said or done? Just when things were finally settling into friendly mode with Lucas, he’d shut down. Didn’t he understand that his icy attitude was exactly what scared someone like Boris? Boris was a sensitive soul. Lucas’ dark and frowning demeanor would frighten him.
A kind word and a smile would go a long way—especially his outrageously charming smile—but would Lucas remember that or would he revert to his old self? She’d better talk to Boris on her own first.
While Lucas paid for their coffees—she didn’t protest, since she’d apparently forgotten her wallet on the Forget Me Not—she wandered out onto the boardwalk. A brisk wind cut across from the ocean side and she wished she had her fleece with her. A tourist on a rented beach cruiser bike veered past her. She felt a moment of pride—those bike rentals had been her idea.
She was dodging a kid on a skateboard when she heard Ruby calling her. “Mama! Mama!”
Turning back to the harbor side of the boardwalk, she spotted her daughter racing through the crowds. In her shorts and sneakers, with a t-shirt that read “Forget Me Not Nature Tours. Unforgettable adventures, she darted past strolling pedestrians and a raven perched on the railing. Megan’s entire heart turned to sunshine at the sight of her little girl. She’s so happy here. I have to make this work.
And then—Ruby tripped over a crack between two boards and suddenly she was flying headfirst through the air, launching like a rocket right toward a planter of petunias.
Megan darted forward, nearly tripping herself as she raced toward her daughter. Her panic gave her wings; she felt as if she could run a hundred miles an hour or fold time like a tesseract if she had to.
But before she could reach Ruby, a hand plucked her from the air and snatched her upright. Lucas. Ruby clung to his arm, completely rattled. “Are…what…Mama?”
Megan landed next to her—it felt literally as if she’d flown there from the terrace with the chessboard—and crouched next to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I think so. The ground was right under my face and then it wasn’t.” She wrinkled her nose and looked up at Lucas, who still had a hand on her upper arm. “How’d you do that?”
“Easy. I couldn’t have you ruining those purple petunias.” He winked at her little girl. Even though he made light of it, Megan saw the same panic in his eyes that she’d just experienced.
“Thank you, Lucas.” Her heart was still racing. “I could already see the scraped knees and bloody elbows.” She turned to Ruby. “This is why you don’t run on the boardwalk, Ruby. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“But—”
“No buts. You saw what just almost happened. No ‘buts’. ” She held up her hand in a “solemn vow” gesture. “Promise not to run on the boardwalk anymore. Or I’ll find you a babysitter who never leaves the cabin.”
Ruby held up her hand to match Megan’s. “I promise, but we tried to call you from Hunter’s and you didn’t answer.”
Megan grabbed her phone from her back pocket and saw that she’d missed three calls from Ruby. She’d been so distracted by Lucas and their conversation that she hadn’t even noticed her phone buzzing. A new worry took hold. “Is there an emergency? What’s wrong?”
“It’s…” Still trying to catch her breath, she scrambled for the right words. “It’s Dad.”
Megan went cold. “What about him? Is he okay?”
“He’s here.”
Ruby flung her arm to gesture behind her. And there was Dev, strolling down the boardwalk, looking completely out of place in his superfine wool overcoat. It set off his deep bronze skin and horn-rimmed glasses, as if he’d wandered out of a commercial for thousand-dollar Swiss watches.
Vaguely, she was aware of Lucas shifting his focus toward Dev as well. Of all people to be the first to encounter her ex, why did it have to be Lucas? Why not an actual friend, like Zoe? Or Boris with his chicken?
“Dev! You didn’t tell me you were coming today. Why didn’t you give me a heads up? I would have picked you up at the airport.” Babbling. She was babbling.
“There’s an airport?”
“Of course there’s an—How did you get here if it wasn’t by plane?”
“Helicopter. It dropped me off at some kind of toy airstrip.”
“That’s the airport.”
“The pride of Lost Harbor,” added Lucas. He stuck out his hand. “Lucas Holt. I take it you’re this fine young lady’s father?”
“Yes, that’s my claim to fame. Dev Siddhwarma.”
“My name is Ruby Vashti Miller Siddhwarma,” said Ruby proudly. “You should try to say it, but you might have to practice.”
“Ruby Vashti Muller Siddhwarma,” said Lucas promptly. “Oops, I got the Miller wrong.”
Everyone laughed. Bless Lucas for making this encounter a little less awkward than she’d feared.
“Well done,” said Dev, offering his hand. A businessman to the core, he never missed an opportunity to schmooze a new acquaintance. “Are you a local here?”
“Born and raised.” Lucas gestured toward the bristling masts of the harbor. “Family fishing charter business. I should really get back to it.”
For some strange reason, Megan didn’t want him to leave. With Lucas here, she felt anchored to Lost Harbor, whereas Dev had a way of making her feel frivolous and insubstantial. He always saw her passions and plans as whims that would blow over.
“Good to meet you. Maybe I’ll book a trip on that charter of yours.”
“We’re pretty busy this time of year.” Lucas shot Megan a noncommittal glance, as
if he was trying to figure out where she stood on the Dev-goes-fishing-with-Lucas idea.
She appreciated his thoughtfulness. But maybe it would be a relief to get Dev out of her hair for a while.
“You do owe me a favor,” she pointed out.
“Good point. Name the day, we’ll make it happen. Welcome to Lost Harbor, Dev.” He nodded to the three of them and headed off down the boardwalk to the Jack Hammer office.
Ruby straightened her t-shirt, which had gotten twisted during her near-fall into the petunias. “What should we show him first, Mama? How about the beach with the starfish? Or the ice cream shop? Or the baby otter?”
Dev laughed at her enthusiasm, while Megan snuck a glance at the departing rear end of Lucas Holt.
She hid her sigh at the terrible timing of Dev’s arrival. Had Lucas maybe-nearly-possibly invited her to dinner?
Nothing ruined a moment like an ex-husband showing up.
Chapter Fourteen
Lucas employed three deckhands who worked on rotating shifts, an office manager who handled billing and shipping, and a receptionist who took bookings and posted occasional photos on social media. Right now, every single one of his employees was getting on his nerves.
He hadn’t been this irritable since he’d first come back to Lost Harbor.
Bad time for a staff meeting.
He leaned against the reception desk in the Jack Hammer Fishing Charters boardwalk office and massaged his left temple. A tiny jack hammer of his own was pounding away in there.
He blamed Megan. Or her ex-husband. Or both. He eyed the tiny closet-size area that she rented from him for her office space. It was dark and empty. She was probably off somewhere with her ex.
“Thanks for coming in, everyone. The summer’s about to really get going and things are gonna get busy. I wanted to get us all on the same page before the craziness hits. Any issues? Any recommendations? I brought donuts so speak freely.” He gestured at the box he’d grabbed at Safeway on the way in.
Mine Until Moonrise (Lost Harbor, Alaska Book 1) Page 7