Shit. Nothing good ever came of a police officer pounding on a locked door, demanding entry.
I knew that from experience.
I frowned at Krista in reproach. “You called the cops?”
“I thought it was a burglar!” she replied, grimacing. “Ellie was terrified, and you and Kristi were gone, and I just panicked.”
“It was the right thing to do,” the officer assured her. He turned to her, and I frowned. He looked kind of familiar. But I didn’t have much time to think about it, since he turned right back around, once again banging on the door.
Kristi nodded approvingly. “Stranger danger. Any smart person would have done the same.”
“Says the woman who just maced her boss,” I rebutted.
“I didn’t know it was her,” Kristi huffed. “I thought I was protecting my store and my customers from a criminal. If anything, I should get a raise.”
Krista nodded fervently, still looking guilty. “It really wasn’t her fault.”
I shook my head at the two redheads, but before I could respond, the bathroom door flew open. Larkin, now cleaned up and wearing a fresh shirt, looked around in confusion. But her eyes narrowed as they landed on the officer.
“You called my brother?” she cried. She whirled around, glaring at Krista accusingly. “What the fuck, Krista?”
Holy shit. I was still reeling from the fact that there were two people with almost the same name and almost the same features – but not from the same family – in the same room. (Say that five times fast.) Then Larkin had shown up out of nowhere, and in the process of getting pepper sprayed and humiliated, had revealed that she was the store owner. Which also made her Krista’s cousin.
And now the local cop was Larkin’s brother?
“Jesus.” I shook my head. “Does everyone on this island know each other?”
“Pretty much,” Larkin and the cop said in unison. And now that I knew who he was, I realized why he looked so familiar: I’d seen him in that photo on her mantel, the one of her and her family at her high school graduation.
Larkin frowned at her brother. “What are you doing here, Sage?” she asked, pushing past him.
“I got an anonymous call about an intruder at Soundtrax.” The cop, whose nametag did in fact read ‘Michaels,’ frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to face his sister. “I didn’t realize the intruder would be my little sister breaking into her own store.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t break in, dingus. I have the security code.” She gave her employee a pointed look. “I made the damn security code.”
“I know that,” Kristi said brightly. “It’s why I didn’t change it. It’s easy to remember, because it’s your anniversary.” Then she blanched. “Um. Was your anniversary?”
Larkin took a deep, noisy breath and closed her eyes. Nobody said anything for a minute.
“Well, you need to change it,” Sage the cop said, breaking the silence. “Half the people in this town came to your wedding, they all know your anniversary.” He gave her an admonishing look that, as a fellow big brother, I recognized all too well. “Come on, Lark, you know better than that. How often have we talked about not using personal info for passwords?”
She grumbled something indistinct.
“Also, it wasn’t an anonymous call,” Kristi-with-an-I added, nodding at the other redhead in the room. “Krista called the police.”
Sage looked up at the ceiling, like he was asking a higher power for patience. “I know that,” he muttered. “It’s called confidentiality.” He narrowed his eyes at his sister. “The perpetrator might retaliate if she knew who sicced the cops on her.”
“I already knew it was her. She admitted it.” Larkin snorted. “Besides, what am I going to do, withhold my caramel cookies from her at Christmas?”
Krista gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
“You need to just get the recipe from her,” Sage told his cousin. “She doesn’t want to be a part of the family anymore anyway.”
Ellie had moved to stand next to me sometime during the discussion, and her head now pinged back and forth, watching the conversation like a tennis match. Unlike me, my sister thrived on the drama of big families. I loved that girl more than anything, but she was fucking nosy.
Larkin glared at her brother. “Got something you want to say?” she growled.
Sage stepped forward. “Yeah. My kid misses her aunt, and Jenny is afraid the next one won’t ever get to meet you, at the rate you’re going.”
Larkin froze. “Jenny’s pregnant again?”
Sage’s expression hardened. “Just passed the first trimester.”
Larkin blinked back tears, her expression a strange mixture of joy, guilt, and, unmistakably, sorrow.
Hmmm. I wondered what that was about.
“And you didn’t tell me?” she asked in a small voice.
Sage snorted. “Why would I? You haven’t been by in months. You don’t return my calls or texts. If it weren’t for Phil Lowenstein sending me weekly updates, I’d think you were dead.” He huffed. “What’s this I hear about you going on a double date with some schmuck last night?” He shot me a dirty look, like I was the schmuck.
I raised my hands in a who, me? kind of gesture, because I was not the schmuck who sweated all over her, insulted her, and skipped out on the bill.
No, I was just the schmuck who wished he was her date.
“Phillip,” Larkin rasped.
“What?”
Larkin huffed. “He likes to be called Phillip.”
“Your date?”
Larkin rolled her eyes. “No, my neighbor.”
“This is ridiculous.” Sage threw his hands up. “Do you even hear me, Lark? You’re going to be an aunt again!”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like she couldn’t find her words. She looked around the room, her eyes bouncing around as though she wasn’t seeing anything. I followed her gaze. Everyone was staring at the two siblings, as though riveted to the juicy family drama.
After a long moment, she cleared her throat. “Names?”
Sage sighed, his expression softening. “We were thinking Daniel for a boy.” He ran a hand over his black crew cut, giving her a cautious smile.
I held my breath, wondering how she would respond to that. A few feet away, Krista-with-an-A and Kristi-with-an-I both gasped softly.
“That’s. Um.” Larkin gulped, nodding rapidly. “That’s a good choice.” She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Good choice,” she echoed, barely audible.
“Who’s Daniel?” Ellie asked, raising herself on tiptoes to whisper in my ear.
I shook my head, trying to silently communicate that I’d tell her later. She bit her lip, reluctantly nodding.
Larkin’s eyes skipped over to me, then slid away again.
“Um,” she said. “But maybe not. Daniel Michaels doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”
Sage laughed. “Yeah, I guess not.” He thought for a second. “We could just go with Dan?”
Larkin let out a shaky groan. “Dad would never forgive you.” She gave him a pointed look. “Remember what he said before Violet was born? ‘Be better than my parents, son,’” she intoned in a deep falsetto. “‘Don’t name your kid Jim.’”
“James isn’t such a bad name, though,” Ellie put in, breaking the silence from the peanut gallery.
Sage shook his head. “Not James. Jim. His actual legal name is Jim.”
Ellie laughed. “Well, that is odd.”
“Not any weirder than our names, though,” Larkin grumbled.
“Hippies,” Sage replied, rolling his eyes. “Can’t take ’em anywhere.”
A chime rang through the stock room, interrupting the conversation, and Kristi-with-an-I jumped. “Oops. That’s the ‘ring for service’ bell. I guess I did kinda leave the store unattended.”
Krista-with-an-A paled under her freckles. “My console! I left it on the counter where anyone could take it!”
And then they both went running into the front room.
“But will anyone actually want to steal a thirty-year-old, pink game console?” I asked no one in particular.
Sage, the actual police officer, looked completely unconcerned at the idea of a possible robbery.
“My partner’s in there,” he said, gesturing to the store. “He probably rang the bell by accident. But I should make sure it’s all good in there.”
“Don’t you need to interview us? We were eye witnesses!” My sister sounded way too excited about the idea of being interviewed by the cops.
Probably because she was too young to even form memories the last time it happened.
“Nah, I’ll just slap together a quick report.” Sage shrugged. “Now that I know there’s not a burglary-in-progress.”
“South Bay’s finest, at your service,” Larkin muttered.
“And proud of it,” he grunted. But then he hesitated, giving his sister a long look. “Is it all good back here?”
She closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. She opened her eyes again, her chin wobbling. “But I’ll come see you on Tuesday. That’s still your day off, right?”
“It is.” Sage gave her a soft smile, the first I’d seen on him. He seemed like a ballbuster – much like his sister, in fact.
“You have to stay for dinner,” he added. “Violet will be so excited to make tacos with Auntie Lark.”
Larkin bit her lower lip. “You guys still do taco Tuesdays?”
He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Of course. We miss him, too, you know.” Then he pulled her in for a fierce hug. “We miss you.”
“I know. I miss you, too.” She clung to him, and I looked away, embarrassed to witness this private moment. Ellie caught my eye, giving me a sheepish smile.
“All right,” Sage said, and I hazarded another look at them. He had stepped away, and was now straightening his tie. “I’m just gonna make sure Jennings is good. Then we’ll get back to the beat.”
Larkin snorted. “Crime never stops on the mean streets of South Bay.”
I chuckled. This was the most idyllic town I’d ever seen. It was like a postcard come to life, what with the storefronts selling seashell picture frames and saltwater taffy, the boardwalk running the entire south side of the island, and picturesque sand dunes leading down to pristine beaches.
“Hey, it’s a living. And a relatively safe one, which makes my wife happy.” Sage shrugged. “Safer than Afghanistan, at least.”
Larkin nodded. “I know,” she repeated, sounding sad.
“Anyway, I’ll see you on Tuesday, Lark. Violet gets home from school at three.” He gave her a final squeeze on her elbow. Then he nodded to Ellie and me and passed into the shop.
We were all silent for a beat.
“Well,” Ellie drawled. “I’m going to go buy all those awesome things I picked out in your super rad shop. Minus that shirt, anyway.”
Larkin slowly looked down at the Ramones tee she was wearing. “Oh.” She looked up at Ellie, blinking like she was dazed. “Sorry?”
Ellie smiled. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” She winked at Larkin. “Looks better on you anyway. You’ve got the boobs to make it work.”
Larkin looked down at herself again, and my eyes followed. Not to be all Mustache Man, but she did have a spectacular rack.
She cleared her throat. “Uh, thanks?”
Ellie laughed. “Just calling it like I see it. They’re pretty great. I’m envious.”
Well, that was one way to curb my inappropriate thoughts. I couldn’t really perv on Larkin while my sister talked about her own boobs.
Larkin blushed. “Well, at least yours aren’t spicy.”
I huffed out a surprised laugh. Always a surprise with her.
“That is true.” Ellie grinned. “Well, it was nice to meet you and your violet eyes,” she said, giving me a pointed look.
Larkin frowned in confusion, her gaze bouncing between me and my sister.
“Smooth, Eloise,” I muttered. “Real smooth.”
“I’ll see you around,” Ellie called, waving cheerfully at us as she headed out front again.
And now I was alone with Larkin. We stared at each other for a moment, until finally I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping forward until I was almost toe-to-toe with her.
She sighed. “I hate that question.”
I frowned, feeling like an ass. “Yeah, I guess you would.”
She shook her head. “It’s not you. I hate every question. I am so sick of talking. I’m sick of thinking, sick of feeling. I just want to shut it all off for a while.” She looked up at me, her lavender eyes sad. “Is that really too much to ask?”
I pushed her ponytail off her shoulder, because I needed an excuse to touch her. The brief moment last night when I’d shaken her hand still echoed in my mind, and I wanted to feel that again, that electricity, that vitality.
I smoothed my hand down the length of her hair. Those long, black tresses were tangled, like they’d been through too much abuse since she’d last brushed it. But it was soft. So soft. I wondered how it would feel if I slid my fingers through it.
She was blinking up at me like she was waiting for me to say something. Or confused by the fact that I was fondling her hair. Fuck. I needed to focus. Slow and steady, Morris.
“It’s not,” I assured her as I dropped my hand. “It’s not too much. I can help. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
She huffed. “I just want to get off this godforsaken island where everyone knows everything about me. I can’t even fart without it being gossip fodder for the whole fucking town. ‘Local widow gassy and bloated: news at 11.’” She shook her head, disgusted.
“Where do you want to go?” I had my keys out of my pocket before I’d even thought about it. I twirled them around my fingers while I waited for her reply. She wanted to escape? I’d be only too happy to take her anywhere. She just needed to ask.
She looked up at me, those stunning eyes blood-shot from pepper spray – and probably some tears, too.
“I don’t care,” she replied. “Just get me out of here.”
“All right.” I grinned, holding my hand out. “Come with me if you want to live.”