Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
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I wiped down the bar for the third time in ten minutes, more to keep my hands busy than from any real need. Cleaning was meditative for me. Based on how the Brewhouse sparkled, I ought to be a frigging Zen master by now. The steady patter of rain against the windows matched my mood—gray and subdued. But at least I could breathe again, now that Ford had left the island. Not that he’d notified me of his comings and goings. We had the island grapevine for that. Or, in this case, Lindsay, who’d texted that she’d seen both Ford and Rios driving onto the morning’s ferry when she’d been on the way to work this morning.
My gaze drifted to Willa, typing away in her usual booth. Roy Kent, her massive black pit bull, sprawled at her feet, his gigantic head resting on his paws. No doubt he’d appreciate a play date with my own pup, Keeley, who was hanging with Pop today at his place and being spoiled within an inch of her life. I knew that extra bulk she’d picked up around her middle was a hundred percent due to the fact that he had zero ability to say no to her begging face. Maybe once the rain had passed, Willa and I could take the pair of them down to the beach for a romp, and we could have a good catch up.
I missed having her as a roommate. She’d been my first friend after everything had imploded with Ford. Hell, she’d been my first truly close female friend ever, given I’d always been a fifth wheel to the rest of the Wayward Sons. She was the only one I’d actually told about what had happened—and that had only been under the influence of a pitcher of margaritas during a particularly low moment. I wasn’t worried that she’d blab the details to anyone, even Sawyer.
Willa understood secrets. She’d had a boatload of her own, including the fact that she’d been in love with Sawyer since she was thirteen. When they’d up and eloped last year, I hadn’t been at all surprised. Anyone with eyes in their head could see he was crazy about her. And even my romantically jaded heart sighed when I saw how they looked at each other. No, I didn’t resent him for taking her away. If anyone deserved their happily ever after, it was her. She’d been through hell and lived to tell the tale.
The front doors opened again, letting in a gust of wind, and I tensed before I could stop myself. But it was just Drew and Kelly McNamara and their tiny daughter, Isabelle, seeking refuge from the weather.
“Hey, y’all.” As our hostess, Carly, was currently rolling silverware at the other end of the bar, I grabbed menus and met them at the hostess station. “Your usual booth?”
Kelly smoothed a hand over her baby bump. “Please. This one’s demanding curly fries.”
“Gotta appease the bump.”
I led them to their table, sneaking another peek at Willa as we passed. She hadn’t even looked up, lost in whatever grant proposal had captured her attention today. The woman was a machine when she got into the zone. Between the grants she’d landed for the betterment of the island and the work she was doing to turn the land she’d inherited from her grandparents into a protected wildlife refuge, she had plenty to keep herself busy.
Back behind the bar, I started a fresh pot of coffee, breathing in the rich aroma that would forever remind me of early mornings with Pop. The afternoon lull wouldn’t last much longer. The rain would drive the locals in early tonight, looking for warmth and company and probably more than a few orders of our famous fish and chips. I welcomed the coming rush. Keeping busy helped quiet the endless parade of memories scrolling through my head about the man I put in so much effort to avoid.
Ten years shouldn’t feel like yesterday. Ten years should be enough time to forget the big boom of his laugh, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Or how I’d believed him when he’d held me after the fire and said everything would be okay, though my whole world lay in ashes around us.
I shook my head, banishing the memories as I grabbed a rag to wipe down the already spotless counter. He’d made his choice. And I’d made mine. The Navy had been more important to him than anything we might have had, and I’d rebuilt my life brick by brick without him.
The coffee maker sputtered its last drops, and I grabbed the carafe, grateful for the distraction of refills.
The door opened again, and this time it was Sawyer, shaking rain from his jacket. He strode in, bringing the scent of sea air and storm as he headed straight for Willa’s booth. His whole face lit up at the sight of her, his gray eyes warming. Despite her habitual Airpods—her shield against unwanted social interaction—she glanced up at his approach, as if he were her true north. The way they looked at each other filled my chest with a hollow ache I refused to examine too closely.
Returning the carafe to the warmer, I busied myself with wiping down glasses, trying not to watch their reunion. But it was like a car wreck. I couldn’t look away as she slid out of the booth and straight into his arms. The easy way they fit together, the natural intimacy of their hello kiss. It was the kind of effortless connection I’d dreamed about having once upon a time, before reality had shattered those hopes. I scrubbed harder at an already spotless glass, pretending the burn behind my eyes was from the cleaning solution rather than anything so complicated as feelings . I didn’t do feelings. Not when I could help it.
Not that I begrudged my friends a moment of their happiness. God knew they’d both been through enough to earn it, with everything Willa had endured with her family and Sawyer’s own rough start in life. But sometimes, watching them together reminded me of everything I’d lost. The easy affection, the way they looked at each other like nothing else in the world mattered. Because I’d long ago learned that, other than Pop, no one would ever put me first. Not my parents, who’d left me behind without a backward glance, and certainly not the one person I’d been foolish enough to trust with my heart.
When the pair of them started getting a little too cozy, I cleared my throat. “Okay, you two. I’ve got no problem with Willa setting up a mobile office here, but I draw the line at y’all making it a second bedroom.”
Willa eased back from him, pink-cheeked and fighting a smile. “Sorry, Bree. We’re celebrating.”
I arched a brow. “Oh? There an announcement you want to make?” My gaze slid down to her belly. Were they already jumping ahead on their happily ever after and starting a family?
“Not that kind of announcement.” Her blush deepened. “Sawyer just got his contractor’s license. He’s all official.”
“No shit? Congratulations, Sawyer.” I offered him a fist bump. Finally, something good was happening to someone who deserved it. “You want a celebratory drink?”
“Let’s have a couple glasses of whatever y’all’s latest creation is.”
“You got it.” I headed back behind the bar to pull their pints, giving them a moment of privacy. Monty’s Island Time was the perfect thing for a celebration.
As I reached for the tap, the door opened again, and I glanced up out of habit, the way I’d done thousands of times over the years since taking over the Brewhouse.
A teenage girl stepped inside, shoving back the hood of her jacket and shaking raindrops from dirty blonde hair that curled in wisps around a sharp-featured face. Something about the way she moved caught my attention. A familiar swagger in her stride that I couldn’t quite place, like a half-remembered song. She had to be new to the island—I knew all the local kids, especially the ones who hung around during off-season. Being one of the few year-round businesses that welcomed teens, I made it my business to keep track.
I set a pint glass beneath the tap. “Can I help you, hon?”
The girl approached the bar and leaned forward on her elbows, her posture radiating a confidence that seemed both natural and practiced. “I hope so. I’m looking for somebody.”
Those green eyes. Where had I seen them before? They sparked something in my memory, making my stomach do an uncomfortable flip as my brain tried to connect dots it didn’t want to acknowledge.
“You meeting your party here?” I scanned the room, trying to match her with one of our current customers. But I knew everyone here, and she didn’t belong to them. At this time of year, I knew pretty much every face that walked through my door, and hers was new.
“No, not like that. I’m looking for my father. He lives here on the island. I thought, this being such a small place, that maybe someone here would know him.”
Red flags went up. A kid looking for her daddy who lived here? In January? Why didn’t she know exactly where to find him? And where was her mother? I recognized bravado in her posture and a knowing in her eyes that made her seem older at first glance, but up close, I’d put her at thirteen, maybe fourteen tops. I bet she easily fooled others, though. This kid had seen some shit. I recognized the look, having seen it in the mirror for most of my life. That particular blend of defiance and vulnerability brought back memories of the day Pop first took me in—memories I usually tried my best to keep buried.
“We can sure give it our best go. Who’s your daddy, hon?” Surely I could find the kid’s dad to make sure she wasn’t running around here on her own. It wasn’t safe for a kid by herself. Not even on an island this small. We had the legacy of Gwen Busby to remind us of that. Even after all these years, that wound in our community had never truly healed.
The girl straightened her spine, chin lifting in a gesture that sent a chill down my spine because I knew where I’d seen it before, even before she spoke. That particular tilt of the head, the set of those shoulders.
“Ford Donoghue.”
The room tilted sideways. My fingers went numb where they gripped the tap handle, and I was dimly aware that beer was overflowing the glass beneath it. The roaring in my ears drowned out everything but the echo of those two words, pounding through my head like waves against the shore.
Ford Donoghue.
Holy shit.
Ford had a daughter. The man who’d walked away from everything—from me—had a child standing right here in my bar, looking at me with eyes that held shadows I recognized all too well.