See You at Sunset (25 page)

“Calamity?” he guessed.

She gave a solemn nod. “I couldn’t do anything about my parents. The aunties, though… I need to be able to keep them safe and comfortable. I’m all they’ve got, Micah.”

He put his arm around her shoulders, finally giving in to the impulse he’d been resisting for hours. Amazingly, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she huddled under his arm, as if seeking warmth.

“You’re wrong about that, honey,” he said. “We’ve got a whole community here, people who dearly love your aunts. We’d do whatever had to be done to help them out—to help
you
out. We’d make sure Florence and Beatrice were okay.”

She turned her face into his shoulder. “I know, Micah.” Her voice came out slightly muffled. When she stayed quiet, resting against him, he began to have some hope that he was finally getting through to her.

But then she let out another sigh and pulled away from him. He mentally cursed but let her go.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m starting to think that I should really be putting all my efforts into convincing them to sell the place while it still has some value. They think they can’t live without it, but Florence might not live
with
it either. I could take care of them financially, especially if my new partnership lives up to its promise.”

The boat slowed as they came into the harbor, and she caught sight of the floating pier. An ambulance was waiting on the street above, its bright, flashing lights illuminating the scene. A couple of city paramedics waited, gurney at the ready.

Holly stood up, bracing herself. “I want my aunts to live out their senior years in comfort, not lacking for anything. They deserve everything I can give them.”

Chapter 20

W
hat’s the latest on Florence?” Morgan asked as Holly brought over their lattes.

Holly placed the cups down on one of the new café tables she’d just set up outside the store and took a seat across from her pal. There hadn’t been another customer besides Morgan for an hour, but that was no big surprise—business had been slow all weekend. With the Blueberry Festival on, most islanders and day-trippers were spending their time there and at the lobster boat races, not shopping.

“They’re still doing tests,” Holly said. “You know, checking for blockages.”

Three days had passed since the fire rescue boat had rushed her aunt to Maine Medical. Florence had seemed to be recovering nicely, but yesterday, out of nowhere, she’d suffered what appeared to be a small stroke. Beatrice had made an incoherent phone call, asking Holly to come right away. Feeling frantic, Holly had called Micah and asked if he could run her into the city in his superfast motorboat instead of waiting for the ferry. He’d immediately raced her to the hospital to be with Beatrice.

“She didn’t have an actual stroke though, right?” Morgan said.

“No, it’s something called a TIA, and the effects do fade. But a significant percentage of people who’ve had a TIA go on to have a full-blown stroke, so they need to do a lot of testing to see what might have caused it. And then they can figure out the best treatment. Probably more drugs, I guess. Hopefully not surgery anyway.”

Morgan grimaced. “Ugh, I feel so bad for her, and for you too. God only knows when you’ll be able to get to New York now.”

Holly was trying her best not to think about New York because it made her feel physically ill. She wouldn’t call her partners again until she had a handle on what was happening with Florence.

“You seriously need a break,” Morgan said. “You should come down to the festival with me and try to have a little fun.”

“I’d like to, but I’ve already been closing the store quite a bit so I can spend time at the hospital with my aunts.” Beatrice had again refused to leave her sister’s side and was sleeping in a reclining chair in Florence’s room. “Anyway, I’m feeling too grumpy to have fun.”

“So you’re going to leave me to face my fate in the charity dunk tank alone, are you?” Morgan said.

Holly laughed. “Oh, stop it. First of all, you’ve done your duty in that tank a dozen times. Second, if anybody gets fresh, I’m sure Ryan will be right there ready to pound them into dust if need be. And if he doesn’t, Lily will.”

“So true,” Morgan said with a grin. “Oh, all right then. But I’m not taking no for an answer when it comes to the social. Ryan and I are picking you up, and that’s all there is to it.”

A social and dance traditionally marked the end of the festival. Probably half the island would be there at the VFW hall tonight. “I don’t think so. I’m going to the hospital again, and by the time I get back, I’ll be too tired.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Oh, so lame. You’re going to have to do better than that to get me off your case.”

“Okay, how about the fact that I’d be lousy company, just staring at the dancers morosely and wallowing in my beer?”

“Even lamer. You’re not going to make things any better for Florence by sitting around the house all night by yourself,” Morgan said.

Holly could feel herself wavering. “Has Micah said anything to you or Ryan? About going tonight?”

“No, but I doubt he’ll be there. He always likes to patrol the roads to make sure nobody drives home drunk.”

“But I remember he dropped in for a while last year,” Holly said. “Late in the evening.”

Morgan studied her. “What exactly are you afraid of if he does show up?”

How good his arms had felt around me when he held me on that rescue boat ride into Portland. How I’d wanted so much to stay there forever.

Holly opened her eyes wide, pointing to her chest. “Me, afraid? Surely you jest.”

“I call bullshit on that one, sweetie,” Morgan said drily. “I know you too well.” She finished the last sip of her coffee and stood up. “You’ll be coming back from the hospital on the last boat, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, you’ll need a little time to get ready, so Ryan and I will pick you up here at nine forty-five. And don’t argue, because you’re coming.” Morgan shot her a sly grin. “You’re going to have some fun even if I have to make you.”

The festival organizing committee had decked out the VFW hall in a blaze of colorful, twisted streamers that met in the middle of the ceiling above a sparkling mirror ball. Two cash bars in opposite corners were doing a brisk business, with lineups stretching onto the parquet dance floor. A long table at the front of the room held a dozen trophies that had been awarded earlier in the evening to the victorious skippers in this year’s lobster boat races. Holly was glad she’d missed the usual boring speeches from the president of the festival and reps from sponsoring businesses, although most of the other locals didn’t seem to mind them.

Lily had reserved seats for her and Morgan and Ryan at one of the big round tables that seated ten. Laura Vickers and Brett Clayton were also there, along with Josh Bryson, Enid Fitzsimmons, and Father Michael.

At first, Holly had guessed that Fitz had come with Josh, and that had made her feel glad. Okay, kind of ashamed of herself because it was none of her business, but still glad. After the couple danced a few times, she’d relaxed even more. But when Josh wandered across the room and planted himself at another table, obviously flirting with a young woman Holly didn’t recognize, her warm feeling fizzled. Clearly, Fitz was still on the market, which meant there was a chance she might end up with Micah after all, if he showed up. Speaking of which…

“I guess you were right about Micah,” she said quietly to Morgan. “It’s already eleven and no sign of him.”

“Told you. But maybe you should slow down a bit. That’s the third beer you’ve polished off, and you don’t exactly have a hollow leg.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Despite her joking response, Holly was drinking more than usual. First, Aiden had bought a round and then Ryan. The last beer came courtesy of an older dude from the mainland named Graham, who had already asked her to dance twice. Fortunately, he seemed like a nice guy. She’d danced with at least six or seven other guys too, all of whom she’d known for years. Despite her reluctance to come to the party, she was doing her best to forget about her troubles and have a good time.

Too bad it wasn’t working.

Morgan cast her gaze toward the tables closest to the door. “Speaking of late arrivals, just check out that hottie sitting at Crystal Murphy’s table.”

Holly craned to look in that direction. Though it was dim in the hall, she couldn’t miss the guy Morgan had mentioned. Very good-looking, he towered over the others at his table, like Aiden and Ryan did at hers. His short, black hair was trendy-spiky, and he was rocking a few days of dark scruff. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt cut high atop muscular biceps, and he was doing a pretty good job sporting a Mr. Dark and Dangerous vibe.

Holly had never seen him before but damned if he wasn’t staring straight at her with a sly grin curving up the corner of his mouth. “Who is he?”

Morgan shrugged. “No idea, but he’s kind of yummy, huh?”

Ryan glowered at his fiancée. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing, darling,” Morgan said, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Maybe he came in for the festival,” Holly said.

“Doesn’t much look like that type to me. And he seems to know Crystal Murphy.” Morgan’s eyes widened suddenly. “Look, I think he’s headed our way.”

By the time Holly turned to look, the man was already standing beside Father Michael, and his eyes were locked on
her
.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked in a deep voice that managed to make the request sound like a come-on.

Holly had to admit there was something alluring about the guy, despite the bad-boy thing. She gave him a tentative smile and got to her feet because nobody refused an invitation to dance in Seashell Bay unless you were exhausted. One dance with him wouldn’t kill her.

He led her onto the floor, where they started to dance to a mangled version of a Bon Jovi oldie, played by the local Portland band that usually got the festival gig. “I’m Logan,” the guy said, leaning in close.

“Holly.” She twirled around in a circle and put some space back between them.

“You run the general store, right?” He closed the gap again.

The question surprised her. “Temporarily. Have I seen you there?”

He shook his head. “A friend of mine told me that a tall, superhot babe was running the store these days. Described you perfectly, to tell the truth,” he said with another rogue’s grin. “But he can be pretty crude, so I’ll spare you the X-rated details.”

“Uh, thanks,” Holly said.
Sheesh.

They both shut up and danced until the music stopped. Holly said a quick thank-you and turned to start back toward her table, but Logan grasped her gently by the wrist.

“How about one more? And I mean just one, believe me. I’m damn sure every guy here must be waiting to dance with the most beautiful woman in the place.” He followed the request with a rueful smile.

Oh, brother.
If this guy wasn’t trying to get in her pants, Holly was the queen of England. But he did have a way with a line. “Okay, just one. My girlfriend and I are leaving pretty soon anyway.”
That should send a clear enough message.

“Got it,” he said. “Shame you have to bounce though.”

Holly mentally groaned when the band chose that moment to play a down-tempo tune, though she supposed it shouldn’t be surprising since it was getting late enough to start the usual slow stuff. That was what a lot of the older crowd preferred anyway. She glanced around as more couples suddenly headed onto the dance floor, including her best friends and their partners.

In one fluid motion, Logan swept her into his arms. His hand slid down her back, sinking possessively low. Again, Holly eased back a fraction.

“I heard the elderly lady who runs the store had some kind of attack,” he said after a few moments. “Is she okay?”

“That would be my aunt, though she’d punch you in the face for calling her elderly.”

He laughed as he guided her smoothly between couples, holding her tight but staying respectable. He was a pretty good dancer.

“Sorry. I hope she’s going to be all right.” He seemed sincere.

“She’s still in hospital for more tests, but she’s doing okay.”

“Good. My friend said she’s a nice lady. And the other one is too—her sister, I guess?”

Holly nodded. “Aunt Beatrice.”

“So you’re helping her run the store now?”

“I’m running it myself, actually, while Beatrice stays with Florence in Portland.”

Logan was silent for a bit but then pulled her a little tighter. His right hand slid lower to rest not far above the top of her ass.

O-kay.
If he moved his hand any lower, she was done with him.

“You’re incredibly beautiful, Holly,” he murmured in her ear. “You’ve gotta have a boyfriend, though it doesn’t look like he’s here with you tonight.”

She was so not going there. Logan seemed okay, if a bit nervy, but she had absolutely no interest in dating him—or anybody else, for that matter.

Well, except possibly one persistent deputy sheriff.

“You’re not from the island, are you?” Holly asked in the most pathetic segue ever.

“No, but I’ve been renting a place here for a few months,” Logan said. “I’d like to move to the island permanently someday if I can.”

When he pulled her closer still, Holly gritted her teeth and prepared to push back. It was time to draw the line.

But before she could, a deep male voice growled from behind her. “Let’s just hope you can’t.”

Micah thought the top of his head would blow clean off when he walked into the hall and spotted Holly dancing with Logan fucking Cain, of all people. Fuming, he’d sat down beside Morgan for a few moments and barely said a handful of words as he glared at the dance floor. Then the music shifted tempo, and just about everybody else at the table got up for a slow dance. Fitz had looked at him with an expectant expression, but he’d been saved when Bram Flynn hustled over and asked her to dance. Micah had stood up then and moved nearer so he could watch Holly and the asshole with a close eye. Maybe a minute into the dance, Cain had more or less made a grab for Holly’s ass, and it had been clear that Holly wasn’t happy at the prospect of being groped.