Forever on the Bay--A Novel, page 14
“I can’t really imagine doing it alone,” she admitted. “But don’t worry, I’ll get there.” She was saying it as much to convince herself as to convince him.
Without discussing it, they turned to head toward the water. It was a warm day, the ground rich with the smell of springtime, the gulls cawing, the breeze soft against her sweaty skin. Out on the bay a couple of fishing boats and a couple of pleasure boats dotted the horizon. “Such a beautiful place,” she said. “Do you think you’ll stay here in Pleasant Shores?”
“I would like to,” he said. “I do better with a slower pace and some time to relax.”
She tilted her head to look at him. “Doesn’t seem like you take a lot of time off.”
“True. But the work is community focused. More school safety lessons than homicides.” He frowned. “Speaking of which, we should try some other angles on Josh’s assailant. Don’t want to let the case, or our energy, get too cold.”
“Good point.” She appreciated that he was sharing it all with her, not trying to limit her involvement or block her out.
A little kid, following his dad on a bike, swerved and almost hit him. “Whoa, little fellow,” Evan said, catching the small bike before it tipped. “Keep looking forward. It’ll help you keep your balance.” He steadied the bike while the child got started again. The father, up ahead, turned around and waved.
“You’re good with kids. Do you want to have any?” Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you already have a child.”
“A man-child,” Evan said. “And it’s not like I had a hand in raising him, not really.”
“How’s he doing with the new job?” Evan had told her about his ultimatums to his son, and how Oliver had gotten a job at the Gusty Gull.
Evan lifted his hands, palms up. “Okay, I guess. He doesn’t say much, but his crush on Avery helps make working more palatable.”
“Oh, that’s sweet.”
“Kind of. Brings up a whole new set of worries. At least...”
“He can’t get her pregnant,” she finished, and they both laughed a little.
“Is that wrong, to be glad about that?” Evan asked.
They strolled down to the water and leaned on the boardwalk’s wall, looking out into the bay. “It’s not wrong, but let me ask you this. What if he falls in love with her and they get together? Is he up for becoming a dad at his age?”
“No,” Evan said bluntly. “Of course, neither was I.”
“Oh. Yeah, I bet.” Maybe Mom was right, and she just wasn’t equipped to deal with a man as complicated as Evan. “I’m sorry, I seem to be bringing up painful subjects.”
“Not a problem, but let’s talk about something else.” He looked over at her. “Let’s figure out how to move forward with Josh’s case. I keep thinking about how he wanted to give back that retainer and quit his last client.”
“Me, too,” she said. “I wish I could remember exactly what he said.”
“Do you think the guy was dangerous? Violent?”
She frowned. “Josh didn’t seem worried, exactly,” she said. “More disgusted with the guy. He didn’t want to take on a case involving a young girl and an older man. He even mentioned something about reporting him to the cops.”
“Can’t blame him, if she was underage, or if he was harassing her.”
“She was over eighteen, I think, because she was a student at the college.”
“After he finished a case, did he destroy the records?”
“He shredded any paperwork,” she said. “In fact, that’s one of the things I did for him—oh, Evan!” She gripped his arm. “He used a phone service. I forgot all about it until just now.”
“The police would have culled through those records, or they should have.”
She shook her head. “Not necessarily, because it wasn’t a big official service. It was a friend of his who was just getting started, someone local, and he wanted to give her the business. I’m trying to remember her name.” She thought. “Bliss... Gartshore, I think it was?”
“First name of Bliss isn’t that common,” he said. “We can try to find her.”
“Because maybe she remembers some of his calls, or something.” They turned back toward the car. “Let’s go get on my computer and see what we can find.”
* * *
BACK AT HER PLACE, they located a likely number, and Cassie placed a call, then put her phone on speaker. “Bliss? This is Cassie Thomas, Josh Thomas’s sister. He was one of your former clients?”
She heard a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, my goodness, I heard about Josh. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t get away for the services.”
“It’s okay. Thanks.” She was learning to push past her sadness enough to stay on track. “Hey, listen, I wondered if I could talk to you about what kind of calls Josh was getting right before he passed away.”
“Um, hmm.” Bliss didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “I’m not really sure what privacy requirements there are in a case like this.”
Evan leaned forward. “Bliss, this is Evan Stone. I’m a friend of Josh and Cassie, and a police officer in another jurisdiction. We can get your local police involved, or just chat informally. Whichever works better for you.”
Again, Bliss paused.
“We’re just trying to get a window into what was going on in his life right before the shooting,” Cassie explained. “The police haven’t found out anything, and they’re overworked. They’ve basically given up. Could you at least tell us if anything unusual was going on?”
Bliss breathed in and out, audibly. “I can,” she said. “It would be better if we could meet. That way I can make sure you really are who you say you are.”
Cassie looked over at Evan.
“I’m off in the morning Sunday and Monday. Would either day work for you, Bliss?”
“Sunday morning.” She gave them her address and ended the call.
Cassie set down her phone and looked over at Evan. “She sound weird to you?”
He nodded. “A little. You said she was Josh’s old friend. What kind of friend?”
“I don’t know, but I had the feeling she was a romantic interest at one time.”
“That would explain the tone.” He leaned back in his chair. “I should go. Leave you to your Saturday.”
But she didn’t want him to. “Stay,” she said impulsively. “I’ll fix us lunch. It’s only fair, since you put up with being jerked around by a bad stick-shift driver.”
“Hey, you did well. I didn’t mind.” He smiled. “But I also wouldn’t mind lunch.”
She fixed them grilled cheese sandwiches and heated up some potato soup she’d made the day before. “Carb heavy,” she said, handing him his plate and bowl to take outside, “but tasty.”
“I’m in favor of carbs.” He carried out his dish, then returned to grab the pitcher of iced tea she’d set out. In minutes they were enjoying lunch on Victory Cottage’s little deck. “Can’t beat this,” he said, nodding toward the bay, the boats, the sunshine.
And for a few minutes they just enjoyed the breeze and the bay, together.
“This is nice. About as far from Minestown as you can get.” Cassie set down the crust of her sandwich. “Truth is I wouldn’t mind living in a place like this.”
“It’s a lot busier in the summer,” he warned. “But there are art festivals and the like. You could sell your wares.”
She snorted. “Makes me sound like a pots-and-pans salesman. My dolls aren’t for everyone. Although I’m optimistic about internet sales.”
He shrugged. “The dolls seemed like a hit with the kids the other day.”
“Yes, and when I met with the girls, they were still super enthusiastic. Josh always said I needed to be more confident, that I had more potential than I realized.”
“I think he was right.” He smiled at her. “You’re very talented, Cassie.”
Her face heated. “Um, thanks. So, uh, how long do you think Oliver will stay?”
“Nice change of subject. He’s good for a few more weeks, because he’s broke and has no car.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Do you think you’ll, you know, stay in touch after this?”
“I don’t know.” He looked unseeingly out to the bay. “I made him mad, forcing him to get a job, but I’m hoping he’ll see the merit of it at some point.” He shook his head. “I learned very little about parenting and family life from my folks. At any rate, very little I’d want to emulate.”
“Most of us would probably make some changes to the way our parents did things, although for sure, your parents were...difficult.”
He looked over at her. “Your mom was great. Right?”
“Oh, she was, but she had her struggles. She loved Dad, but he wasn’t cut out for family life.” Especially when it involved a sick kid.
“Yeah. That’s an alcoholic for you.” He stared at his hands and then looked over at her with a forced smile. “I have faith that you’ll pull it together and be a great parent someday. Me, not so much. I had my chance, and I blew it.”
She shoved aside his comment about her being a great parent and put a hand over his. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I don’t agree.”
He shrugged. “I’m not looking for pity. I’m just being accountable for myself, for what went wrong. I wasn’t a good father, nor a good husband.”
She raised an eyebrow. “At seventeen, how many people would be?”
“How many people make that dumb of a mistake and mess up their lives at seventeen?”
A protective kind of irritation grew in her. “If you’re determined to blame yourself, I can’t help you. But if you could open your mind...” She shook her head.
“What?”
“If you could get over seeing yourself as a loser, you’d probably be a better parent to Oliver.” And you wouldn’t be so opposed to seeing me as an actual woman.
Which was a thought she shouldn’t be having. She needed to be opposed to being with him, because of his alcoholism that mirrored what she’d grown up with. Because he was too complicated of a man for her. Because being with him would lead to heartache on both sides.
“Why are you trying to talk me into liking myself?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “What’s it to you?”
Her drive to help him was stronger than her sense of caution and self-protection. She moved her chair closer to his, looked into his eyes. “You’re a good man, Evan,” she said. “I just hate to see you beating yourself up. You’re way underestimating yourself.”
He blew out a breath and looked away. “Oh, the things you don’t know.”
“Like what?” She studied him. “Try me. Tell me one of your awful secrets.”
He laughed a little, shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t want to know. Because right now she wanted nothing to soften the magnetic pull she felt toward him: so strong that even the effort to pull away caused a physical ache in her heart.
She wanted to be closer to him, wanted it more than her doubts and her mother’s warnings and her own prickly independence. She wanted to soften, to take him in. To soothe the hurt she’d just glimpsed, and to touch the fire that burned in him. Keeping her gaze locked with his, she moved over to perch on the arm of his chair, reached toward his face and ran a finger along his strong jawline, feeling the bristly stubble there.
The fire in his eyes gave her courage. “Kiss me,” she said in a husky voice she barely recognized.
He opened his mouth like he was going to protest, so she put a finger over his lips. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
The minute their lips touched, a spark ignited. He pulled her closer, and with a hand on either side of her face, took control and kissed her, a kiss that went deep into her soul.
The bird singing from a fence post, the waves lapping against the shore, the breeze that lifted her hair, cooling her neck—all of it became dim background as her whole self, breath and life and history, centered on the connection between them.
Then he pulled away from her, put his hands on her shoulders and eased her away from him. “There. See? I’m a bad bet.”
Cassie could barely catch her breath. “That was bad?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “For someone who promised your big brother he would keep his distance, yes. Yes, that was very bad.”
“Then I want to do more bad things,” she dared to say, and moved close again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KISSING CASSIE WAS everything he’d dreamed of and nothing he’d imagined, all at the same time.
He’d known her lips would be soft, but he’d never guessed that she’d be so responsive. That she’d suck in little gasps of air, like she was surprised, and in a good way.
He buried his fingers in her hair—soft and silky—and tugged her closer until she was perched on his lap. She was so small and yet so sturdy. He’d always thought of Cassie as fragile, but muscle curved her arms and shoulders, and her back was straight and strong.
Heat rose between them, seeming to burn wherever their skin made contact. His heart drummed in his chest as his hands moved, exploring her face, her neck, her slender waist. He wanted to take it further: one part of him wanted to, but he wouldn’t. This was enough, that he could hold her. This was more than enough.
When he looked into her eyes, he saw that they were dark with what had to be passion. He put a hand on the back of her head and guided her closer, kissed her more deeply, drowning in a sea of feelings and sensations.
The desire was different from what he’d felt with other women. It was physical, but it was more: a longing for closeness of the heart, for connection, for family.
That thought made him pull back, pull her against him and wrap his arms around her, but loosely, trying to quell the heat and desire and replace them with the caring he’d always felt for Cassie.
Another squeeze, and then he eased her off his lap. They stood together, looking at each other, and Evan knew there’d be the devil to pay and that it couldn’t happen again.
Maybe it was that that made him pull her close, their whole bodies pressed against each other, and hold her next to him for what had to be the last time.
* * *
HE WOKE UP the next morning ashamed of what he’d done. He’d lost control, and he’d touched her, held her, kissed her. What would Josh have said?
He’d broken a promise that had been made for very good reasons. And the worst of it was he had to spend the morning with Cassie today. There was no chance to get distance on his feelings; they’d be driving to Minestown to meet the message service owner, Bliss, and learn what she knew about Josh’s death.
When Cassie met him at his truck, her face held some of the same mixed feelings that roiled in him. But there was enough hope and vulnerability in her eyes that he felt like even more of a cad.
The first minutes of the drive were occupied with GPS and making impersonal plans about what they’d do today, what Bliss had said. Then, a few minutes of awkward silence had Evan’s fingers twitching with the desire to turn on the radio, loud.
But that would be cowardly. He had to confront the issue between them. “Look, Cassie, I apologize for what happened yesterday.”
“No need to apologize,” she said quickly. “I started things.”
That was what had made it so great. And so awful. “There can’t be any more of that,” he said firmly.
“You sound like a dad.” She was trying to joke, but underneath the humor, he heard a thread of hurt that nearly shattered him.
Better a little hurt now, though, than the bigger hurt that would be caused by her getting involved with him. Josh would have said the same.
“I’m serious,” he said. “I don’t want to get involved that way. It was a mistake.” He hoped she’d believe the lie.
“It seemed pretty mutual.”
“It shouldn’t have been. I should have stopped you.” He steered the car onto the highway. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” It was a deliberate putdown, and he hated doing it, but he had to cauterize the opening between them.
“I don’t know what I’m...oh, man.” She made a disgusted sound. “Way to patronize me.”
“I’m older than you are and more experienced. You don’t know what—”
“How do you know you’re more experienced? It’s not as if you’re my first kiss.”
Of course he wasn’t, but her words still jabbed at him.
“I’ve been with men. I know what you felt, what you wanted to do, because I wanted it, too.”
He gripped the steering wheel as anger rose in him. “Are you telling the truth?”
“About what?”
“About being with men.”
She threw up her hands. “Good heavens, it’s not your business. You’re not my—”
She broke off, and he instantly knew what she’d been going to say. You’re not my brother.
No, her brother was looking down from heaven and completely disgusted with his so-called friend who’d broken a promise. “Look, Cass, it was a mistake,” he said as his heart twisted inside him.
He couldn’t look at her, at the hurt he was causing. If he did, he’d pull her close and tell her how much he wished it could be different.
But yesterday she’d pushed aside his objections as irrelevant. She’d likely do that again, and if she did, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have the strength of character to pull away from her a second time. “It was a mistake,” he repeated. “We can be friends, but that’s all. Just friends.” And then he turned up the radio and kept his eyes on the road.
* * *
