Home to Stay (7 page)

Maybe she was waiting, looking for a weak spot to attack before she pounced. Or maybe she didn’t find him all that interesting.

“It’s in a reporter’s nature to ask questions, right?” He lifted the tea to take a drink. “We only have to make it through a few more days, then she’ll be gone.”

“Who will be gone?” Joe asked.

This was beginning to feel like a bad skit.

“The reporter. Though the photographer is nice,” Beth said. “And kind of cute.” She grinned at Will, as if they were sharing some inside joke. Randy snorted before he could stop himself.

“I hope that’s not a snort of agreement,” Joe said. “I’ll take a beer, please, Will.” He planted a kiss on Beth’s forehead, then took the stool to her left. “They’ll be out with us tomorrow. My biggest hassle will probably be keeping Sid from throwing her overboard if this reporter lady pisses her off.”

“She’s going out on the boat? That’s going to make things worse.” Beth said.

“Why?” Joe took the beer Will slid across the bar.

Beth dropped her forehead onto the edge of the bar, turning it from side to side. “No no no no no.”

Randy caught Joe’s questioning look and tried once again to rescue Beth. “Ms. King visited Lola’s today. The subject of Beth originally coming here to meet her future in-laws came up, and the reporter followed the string through to the switch from Lucas to you.”

“Crime in Italy.” Beth’s head jerked back up. “There is never going to be a good way to tell that story.”

“Is that what this is about?” Joe said, turning toward Beth as he pulled her chin in his direction. “Are we happy?”

Beth nodded.

“Is Lucas happy?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding like a chastised four-year-old.

“Is Sid happy?”

“Disgustingly so,” Will answered for her.

Joe’s eyes never left Beth’s face. “Nothing else matters then, right?”

Randy knew agreeing to that one was going to be difficult for a woman used to worrying what people, friend or foe, thought about her. An endearing quality, but a tough burden to carry all the same. Made tougher by marrying a man who didn’t give two shits what anyone thought about him.

Except the woman he loved.

Randy looked up to see Will watching the couple intently. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was wishing for something similar. Not what he expected from a woman who worked so hard to be alone.

Joe dropped a kiss on Beth’s nose, then planted a longer one on her lips. Randy looked down at his tea, feeling like an intruder on an intimate moment. From the corner of his eye, he could see Will had found something else to focus on as well.

Him.

When he caught her eye, an attractive blush covered her cheeks.

If she was thinking what that blush said she was thinking, maybe it was time he put a little more effort into getting to know Willow Parsons.

CHAPTER 7

I
f Joe and Randy weren’t there, I’d have beat that bitch to a pulp and thrown her over the side.”

Sid had apparently
not
enjoyed her day on the water with Ms. Rebecca King. Will took a sip of her beer as she watched her friend charge around the pool table to take her next shot. Venting about her afternoon on the water with the not-so-popular reporter didn’t seem to be hindering her concentration, as she sank two more balls in rapid succession.

“I’m surprised Joe wasn’t willing to help you,” Will said. “Did she really insinuate that you and Beth swapped brothers?”

“The bimbo did everything but ask if we continued to swap every other weekend.” Sid pointed with her cue stick. “She better hope I don’t catch her without someone around to save her skinny ass.”

As badass as Sid could be, something told Will that Rebecca King could hold her own in a brawl, and maybe even come out on top. The women were of a similar size, so neither held a weight advantage. Sid would fight dirty, of course, but the reporter didn’t look like the type to stick with the rules either.

“What do you think of the photographer?” Will asked. “He seems nice enough.”

“I don’t know.” Sid sank another ball. “He’s almost too happy. Don’t get me wrong. I can admire the pretty Orlando Bloom thing he’s got going on.”

“I’m with you on that.”

“But I can’t help but think of them as a pair, which makes me dislike him by association.”

Will chuckled. “From what he said the other night, I don’t think he likes her very much.”

Sid stood, dropping the cue by her foot. “Really?”

“Said she’s best in small doses with long breaks in between.”

“Hah,” Sid said. “Score points for picture boy.”

“There you two are,” Beth said, barreling into the poolroom as if seeking a place to hide. “I need one of you to go order me a burger and onion rings.”

Will and Sid exchanged a look, then Will asked, “Why can’t you order the burger yourself?”

“I did.”

“What?” Sid said.

“I ordered a burger, but I want two,” Beth said, rubbing her stomach. “Tom and Patty are out there and I don’t want to look like a giant pig.”

Will did the math on how much fat and calories were in one Dempsey Burger, let alone two. The numbers left her a little numb, but to be fair, the woman
was
eating for two. Or maybe three if her appetite was any indication.

“Go order for her, Sid.”

“Why me?” she asked, bent over the table in position to take a shot.

“Because they know I don’t eat burgers, so they’d never believe I was ordering for myself.” Will wasn’t a vegetarian, but she did avoid red meat.

Sid leaned her stick against the wall behind Will. “Then when she gets busted eating two burgers, it’s my ass on the line for aiding and abetting.”

“Hooking up with a lawyer has made you paranoid,” Beth said, slapping a twenty onto the table. “Get me that burger and you can keep the change.”

Burger bribery. Amazing what a desperate pregnant woman would do, but it proved how well Beth knew their little boat mechanic.

“You got it, Curly.”

As Sid left the room, Beth climbed onto the high-set chair across from Will, closed her eyes, and laid her head against the wall. “I’m going to be as big as Joe’s boat, but right now all I care about is eating those burgers.”

“Cravings, huh?”

Will hadn’t gotten far enough along to experience those, but she wondered if her little one would have sent up the red meat flag.

“I think they’ve officially begun.” She hung her purse on the back of the chair. “Last night I was dying for pickles. I had to slide out of bed without waking Joe, bribe Dozer with a hot dog to get him to stay quiet, then hold my nose as I ate the things because the smell was nauseating.”

“You were craving something that you couldn’t even smell without getting sick?”

“I know,” Beth said. “Of all the things I’ve heard about being pregnant, the fact that it would make me completely insane was not included.”

“Really?” Will laughed. “Pretty sure that’s the first thing anyone told me.”

Beth’s head jerked away from the wall and wide green eyes stared at Will. “You were pregnant?”

She hadn’t meant to let that slip out. Will shrugged and stared at the silver label on her beer. “It was a few years ago. I lost it.”

Though not without someone’s help.

Beth laid a hand over Will’s. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“No need to apologize.” Will accepted the affection for a few seconds, then pulled her hand away.

“And here I am complaining about it.” Beth set her forehead in her hand. “God, I’m such a jerk.”

“None of that now.” Randy’s words came back to Will. No one knew her because she wouldn’t let them. But there was more to her life than one tragic episode three years ago. “I’m so happy for you and Joe, and I love hearing about the baby. Don’t ever think you can’t talk about it around me. In fact,” she said, “if you could talk about it as much as possible when Sid is around, as I’m sure it’ll freak her out, I’ll buy you a six-month supply of diapers.”

They laughed together, the moment of tension sliding away.

“Were you married?” Beth asked. “Wait. I’m sorry. That’s incredibly nosy.”

Will shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I was engaged, actually.” Not that she’d accepted the proposal without hesitation. “So we have that in common.”

“What happened to the guy?”

A tougher question to answer. Will used all her energy to stay in the present. “Let’s say he turned out
not
to be the guy I thought he was.”

“Oh,” was all Beth said.

In that moment, Sid returned. “Order is in. Why do you two look like that?”

“Like what?” Beth asked, a bit too chipper.

“Like you’re hiding something.”

Will wasn’t sure when Sid had gotten so astute, but she didn’t see any reason not to repeat the little bit she’d shared. These women had become like sisters to her. She owed them something of herself.

“I was telling
Beth that a few years ago,
I
was pregnant.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” Will answered, the simple response lightening the mood. “I lost it, and things didn’t work out with the guy. Now how about those fittings tomorrow.”

The other two women sat in dazed silence for several seconds. Beth recovered first. “Right. The fittings.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “You have my planner, but I think the appointment is for one-thirty.”

“It is,” Will said. “I checked. And I called to make sure the dresses were in. They arrived today.”

“Damn,” Sid said. “I’ll be out on the boat.”

“Nice try,” Beth said. “I’ve already told Joe you need the afternoon off. He’s lined up someone else to cover for you.”

The curse Sid said under her breath was a bit stronger than
damn
.

“I’ve had several versions shipped in. Whatever ones you don’t like we can return,” Beth said. “And you two don’t have to match. So long as the dresses complement each other, I’m good with whatever you pick. Since the ones I’ve ordered all go nicely together, it should be fine.”

Sid looked as if she’d been told a root canal was in her immediate future, but Will was kind of excited. She’d never been a bridesmaid. With the added bonus of watching Beth stick their friend into a fancy dress, this fitting might turn out to be the best day she’d had in a while.

Bartender Willow Parsons was definitely hiding something, and Rebecca King was determined to figure out what. She was certain she’d seen the woman’s face before. Gut instinct, which a reporter always trusted, told her there was a story here.

If Will was indeed a person of interest, then Rebecca scooping the story would be the break she’d been hoping for. No more fluff pieces. No more coconut drinks and tiki bars. And no more traveling with mindless photographers only interested in the pretty sunset and bikini-clad tourists.

No one Rebecca had talked to that week knew anything about Willow Parsons beyond the moment she showed up on Anchor Island a year ago. A cursory background check revealed various jobs up and down the coast, but none that dated back more than three years. That provided a starting point.

She’d spent two nights combing most-wanted lists for crimes committed three to five years ago in the New England area, but with no hits. Then she switched to the missing persons cases. Strikingly, there were many more people missing than wanted, and the search was taking longer. If she hadn’t had to cater to the local yokels all day, Rebecca might have found something by now.

“Knock knock,” Jude said, stepping through the balcony door to her room. Though they’d each been given their own suite, they shared the balcony overlooking the harbor. Rebecca had to admit, the view was stunning. “Heading over to Dempsey’s for dinner. You want to come?”

Jude almost never invited Rebecca anywhere when they were on assignment together. They weren’t exactly friends, and she didn’t have a problem with that. The Brit had his charms, but his only goal in life was to snap some photos and have a good time. The perpetual Peter Pan syndrome incarnate. When she thought of what he could be accomplishing with his talent, Rebecca couldn’t help but lose respect for the man.

“I’m good, thanks.”

In spite of her clear dismissal, Jude remained. “You haven’t left this room one evening since we got here. I realize the tourists aren’t here yet, but there is a nightlife on this speck of sand. Don’t you think you’d better check it out if you’re going to write about it?”

Rebecca looked up from her laptop. “Are you telling me how to do my job? Last I checked, I didn’t tell you how to work that contraption around your neck.”

“I was simply suggesting that the article should include something that happens after sundown,” Jude said through clenched teeth. “Hard to do when you won’t leave the room.”

“Stick with taking pictures. I’ll handle the rest.”

With a glare that more than communicated where he’d like to tell her to go, Jude retreated back to the balcony, allowing Rebecca to return to her computer.

“If you do have a secret, Ms. Parsons, I’m going to find it. Then maybe we’ll both be famous.”

Knowing Sam was anxious for an update, Randy arrived at the Anchor Inn bright and early Friday morning. Yvonne let him know Sam was in his office, pointing him in that direction. The hotelier was sipping his coffee while reading something on his tablet when Randy knocked on the door.

“Hey there. Can I get you some coffee?”

“Never drink the stuff,” Randy said, shaking Sam’s hand before taking a seat. “Anything interesting in the news?”

Sam lifted one brow. “Same old, same old. The rich are getting richer, and the rest of us are stuck shoveling the shit.”

Randy guessed Sam to be the wealthiest islander in the village, but compared to the ultrarich decorating the news these days, that still left him at the bottom of the net worth totem pole.

“And that’s why I don’t read the news.” With little time before his tour duties resumed, Randy cut to the point of the meeting. “The visits have gone well so far. We hit every major sight, and a few of the minor ones. The tour has run from the ferry landing to the preservation museum at the other end. We’ve done nose to tip, with a trip out on the water with Dempsey Charters.”

“And how have the islanders responded?” Sam asked, sitting back with his coffee mug.

“Well, I think. Some have taken to the attention better than others.”

Sam tensed. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Randy shook his head. “My sister didn’t like the direction of Rebecca’s questioning, and to be honest, neither did I.” For an article on their island as a tourist destination, Ms. King was entirely too interested in the private lives of the Anchor citizens. “She pushed Beth Chandler into a corner on Wednesday to the point that I had to cut off the interview and take Beth outside.”

“Randy, this article is important to—”

“I know how important this article is to all of us. But I’m not going to allow anyone to harass my friends and family.” They could find another way to increase tourism, if necessary.