Chapter Nine
L ive entertainment in Raven’s Cove was almost nonexistent. A local DJ played three nights a week in the summer for any tourists who happened to be moored here. Locals often ended their busy week with a few drinks, but no one made a point of going to the pub for music.
Therefore, when an actual band turned up, it was an event. The act could be a yodeler with a pan flute and the entire community would show up.
Almost the entire community. Somebody had to watch the kids and Emma’s mother offered, including Biyen so “you lot” can have a night out. Biyen could have stayed with Gramps, but he was even more excited than Sophie for this special treat. He was going to eat popcorn and watch a movie with Imogen and Cooper and have a sleepover in the rumpus room at the Fraser house. Could life get any better?
Storm was already down for the night when Sophie arrived with him. Delta waved off any concerns.
“I’ll text Emma if anything comes up, but Biyen is good as gold and Storm knows me now. She won’t play strange if she wakes and I go in to her. Have fun.”
“Your mom is warming up to Storm,” Sophie noted when she was walking down the drive alongside Emma and Reid. From below, they could hear the muffled voice of someone introducing the band inside the pub.
“I think Glenda shamed her into it,” Emma said wryly. “If Glenda is big enough to dote on her ex’s baby, surely Mom could open her heart to her daughter’s adopted daughter.”
“I thought it was because Imogen got Storm to say ‘Nana,’” Reid said.
“Pretty sure that was a fluke,” Emma said wryly. Storm was only eight months and babbling nonsense most of the time.
“We still need to keep an eye on that girl, or she’ll put Storm in her suitcase when she leaves,” Reid said.
Sophie wondered if seeing how anxious Emma was over the prospect of Tiffany’s sister turning up here might have impacted Delta’s attitude. She was very reserved and Emma seemed incredibly sensitive to the slightest criticism from her mother. From what Emma had told Sophie of her relationship with her family, it had nearly strained past its breaking point through her divorce. When she had first arrived here, she’d barely been speaking to any of them. She and her mother had become more relaxed with each other as this visit had worn on, though, which was nice to see.
Tonight wasn’t the time to get into that, though. The band was finishing up a lively rendition of “One Week” by the Barenaked Ladies as they arrived at the door.
“That’s not the real band, is it?” Emma asked.
Reid paused in opening the door to point at the poster showing a half-dozen musicians in toques, holding maple syrup, poutine, and a stuffed beaver under a maple-leaf-shaped logo that read, C ANADIAN C ONTENT .
The band helpfully introduced themselves as they entered the crowded pub. The tables were full, and the bar was elbow to elbow with people trying to order drinks. Two servers were holding trays of shots as they wove between the clusters of patrons.
“Thanks for coming out, Raven’s Cove,” the lead singer said. “We are Canadian Content. We cover Canadian bands and something we hear all the time is, ‘I didn’t know that song was Canadian.’ We turned it into a drinking game. If you want to play along, the rule is, if you say, ‘I didn’t know this band or song is Canadian,’ you have to buy a round of shots for your table. Ready, Raven’s Cove? Let’s parteeeee.”
A cheer went up and the band rolled into “New Orleans Is Sinking” by the Tragically Hip.
“Oh, I like this one!” Emma began rocking her hips. She glanced for Reid, but he was wedging himself into a space at the bar. “Dance?”
Sophie nodded and they started toward the dance floor.
“I didn’t know this song was by a Canadian—” Emma had leaned toward Sophie to be heard over the music, but stopped herself, eyes going wide as she slapped her hand over her laughing mouth.
“No!” Sophie went back and tugged on Reid’s shirt. “Shots on her!” She thumbed at Emma.
“Really?” Reid mouthed and shook his head, amused. He nodded and waved to get the bartender’s attention.
They danced through Arcade Fire, Arkells, and a Shania Twain medley before going to find Reid.
He was on the patio with Logan, who had been sent ahead to secure them a table. They were at one of the high tops, and one of the contractors was sitting with them. A pitcher of water and one of margueritas sat on the table with four glasses. There were also two full shot glasses, two empty ones, and each man held a beer.
“Hi, Cameron,” Sophie greeted the contractor.
“You clean up well, Soph,” Cameron said, nodding at her dress. “You always look great, Emma.”
“Thank you.” Emma took the chair Reid held for her.
“Yeah, thanks,” Sophie said dryly. “Charmer.”
“I just got myself kicked off the cool table, didn’t I? I have to go read the riot act to a couple of my guys anyway. I can see they’re going hard tonight. You want to dance later, you come find me.” He pointed at Sophie as he vacated his chair for her.
Logan slid his gaze down Sophie’s summer dress as she swiveled into place. She had purchased this for Glenda’s wedding four years ago and had worn it maybe twice since. As dresses went, it was comfortable with its A line and stretchy fabric, and flattering with its simple white flowers on wine red, but it felt fussy when Logan sat so close and took notice of it.
“Good call on the water,” Sophie said, helping herself to the pitcher.
“Those are yours,” Reid said, pointing at the shots. “Be more careful.”
“I will,” Emma promised. She tapped hers to Sophie’s and they threw them back.
With perfect timing, the crowd started singing along with the band’s rendition of “Ironic.”
“Is Alanis Morissette Canadian?” Emma asked with surprise.
“ Nooo ,” Sophie and Reid cried.
“No, she’s not or…? Oh.” Emma wrinkled her nose, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“We’re going to need a Kiwi exception, or we’ll all be too drunk to walk home.” Reid waved at Quinley who carried over a tray of B-52s.
After her second shot, Sophie ignored the margarita and stuck with water. The alcohol was making her feel loose and sexy, far too aware of Logan beside her smelling all showered and fresh, looking sharp in his snazzy shorts and crisp short-sleeved button-down shirt.
“Good turnout,” she said as an excuse to turn her back on him and look at the crowd.
When he leaned forward to speak next to her ear, his breath disturbed the fine hairs on the back of her neck.
“Why is he still here?”
“Who?” She looked over her shoulder and he was right there , his mouth way too close to her own.
He had kissed her! She kept trying to pretend he hadn’t, and she kept running into the reality that the spark had still sizzled between them, as amazing as she remembered it, which made the whole thing way too unsettling.
He wasn’t looking at her mouth right now, though. She followed his gaze to where Nolan was sitting with a handful of locals.
“He wanted to stay for Biyen’s birthday party tomorrow.” And Biyen was having fun camping in the yard with him. Sophie didn’t mind. It was nice that Biyen was having a good time with his father, but was still under her nose where she got to see him every morning.
“Sopheeeee!” Randy burst from the crowd.
“Randy!” she cried. “You’re back!”
Randy was a chunky guy with a heavy beard and hair that needed cutting. He ignored both his employers as he held his fists in the air and released a very loud and triumphant, “I passed my final exaaaaam!”
“What? Ahh!” Sophie threw herself off the chair and hugged him, finding herself picked up and spun in a circle while she clung to his bulky shoulders.
“Dance with me!”
He didn’t give her a choice, basically carrying her to the dance floor where the band started “The Safety Dance.”
They both sang along, leaving behind the friends who didn’t dance because they were “no friends of mine.”
“You’re drunk,” she accused as the song ended.
“So drunk,” he agreed, dancing wildly.
His exuberance was infectious, especially because this news meant he was back full-time. The work load on her would lighten considerably and that was definitely a reason to celebrate.
She danced with him through “I’m Like a Bird” and “Everybody Wants to Be Like You,” then left him chest-bumping with Kenneth while she threaded her way back to the table in time to see Emma lead Reid onto the floor.
Traitor.
“That’s good news,” Logan said as Sophie retook her chair. “About Randy.”
“Is it ever. Your dad would have loved this band.” She cocked an ear as they shifted into a Guess Who/BTO medley. “It was all seventies, all the time, in the office. It drove Randy nuts. He’s more of a Drake fan.”
“Is Drake Can—That’s a joke ,” Logan insisted when she flung him a look of outrage. “I know he’s Canadian. I’ve met him.” His brows went up in self-deprecation at his own brag.
“Really. When? How?”
“A party.” He shrugged it off. “I’m sure he forgot my name the second he heard it. Everyone was trying to talk to him.”
“You didn’t play the Canadian card?”
“Nah, I was the boat guy.” He took a pull off his beer.
“What do you mean?”
His mouth went sideways, rueful and maybe reluctant to say.
“Some of those ballers in Florida have so much money, they literally don’t know what to do with it. After I designed a cabin cruiser for one, he started inviting me to parties on it. He liked me to help him tour his guests so I could give all the technical details. He was really happy with it, so that part felt good, but he was always pushing people to hire me to build them their own boat. That was awkward sometimes. I got business out of it, but it turned into people saying, ‘Right. You’re the boat guy.’” His tone became flat and dismissive.
“Oof. You should have got yourself a T-shirt. Stay ahead of it.”
“At least it gave me something to talk about at those things. I always thought parties like that would be more fun. They were actually…” He trailed off.
“What?” She drained her water and tipped a splash of marguerita into her glass.
“I don’t know. Empty?” He didn’t look entirely comfortable admitting it. “I liked my clients. They were great, but we were friendly, not friends. When I was out with them, it wasn’t like this, where I look around and know people, not just recognize them. By the way, since when is Tamara into guys?” He nodded toward the receptionist from the lodge. She had her head tilted toward a young man as the man shaped his words with his hands.
“That’s her cousin. Supposedly he’s just visiting, but I hear he’s tired of the rat race in Surrey and has an HVAC ticket. Maybe buy him a beer.”
“Good recon.”
“Right? Randy has a girl in Nanaimo, by the way,” she warned.
“We sponsored his apprenticeship. He has to give us three years or reimburse us for his tuition.”
“Something he could do on city wages so I suggest you give him a very nice bump in his hourly rate and feel him out on where her skill set lies. I suspect it’s nursing so that could be tricky.” They absolutely needed more health care here, but positions were filled by the health authority with temporary contracts. There wasn’t much opportunity for permanent full-time.
“Hmm.” He frowned.
“Yeah.”
Sophie suddenly realized that, as they had spoken, they had leaned in close to each other. Their shoulders were almost touching. She drew back but had to stay close enough to talk over the music.
“Is this really what you were missing when you were drinking champagne on a superyacht of your own design? Labor problems and your employee’s love life?”
His gaze shifted restlessly across the crowd then came back to her face where she felt his study almost like a physical touch. She expected him to offer a laconic comeback, but he looked very serious.
“That’s not exactly what I was missing, but I definitely felt like something was. I should have been as stoked as Randy. I worked hard to get to that level. Being ‘the boat guy,’ getting contracts where cost is no object is a dream come true. I loved that and I haven’t been able to take on any new ones since I’ve been here so that’s driving me nuts. I loved the sun, too.” He shook his head with mild disgust at the changeable, damp coastal weather here. “But the rest of my life was pretty hollow.”
“Oh no.” She poked the top of his chest near his shoulder, understanding exactly what had happened. “You’re starting to love your little sister. Aren’t you?”
“So?” He gave her a cross look, smirking behind it. “It’s Stockholm Syndrome.” He wet his lips with his beer. “Babies are very sneaky. They break you down with sleep deprivation, then act like you’re a god because you disappear and reappear with your own hands .”
“I know, right?” She chuckled. “Wait until she’s talking. They say the funniest things.” She smiled wistfully at the memory of Biyen learning to talk, trying to make sense of his world. “Watching them grow up is such a bittersweet balance of celebrating every little milestone and saying good-bye to the child they were. I love who Biyen is now, and I really love how independent he is, but I miss the boy who fit in my lap and believed I had all the answers.”
Logan’s grin faded and his gaze dropped into the amber ale he was nursing. Was he realizing he might not be here when Storm was too big for his lap? Or worried that Storm wouldn’t be?
“Do you ever think about having another baby?” he asked curiously, lifting his gaze to hers. “Not asking as your employer,” he clarified dryly.
“Now that Randy’s back, you think I’m liable to go on mat leave? Tempting.” She was being facetious. “I thought about it a lot in those first couple of years. I wanted Biyen to have a sibling, but things were already hard, not having Mom and Nolan being so…” She shook her head, glancing at her ex. “He didn’t want another baby and my life was complicated enough without bringing a new man and another baby into it.”
She was doing it again—confiding in Logan, but maybe he needed to hear it.
“I often wish I’d given Biyen a brother or sister by now. Growing up, I was really envious of anyone with siblings, even you boys who acted like you hated each other.” She gave him a pointed look. Appreciate what you’ve got. “Maybe your childhood wasn’t all that it could have been, but you went through it together and there’s value in that. Reid and Trystan understand you in a way no one else does.”
“I guess.” His head tilted as he considered that. “But as someone who was gifted a baby sister at twenty-nine, I am pleased to inform you that it’s never too late to give someone a sibling. Too early? Definitely,” he said as Reid and Emma came back. “But never too late.”
“What?” Emma asked as Sophie rolled her eyes.
“Logan is being his warm and loving self. Is the band on intermiss—No, Emma,” she said sternly as Quinley set four shots on their table.
“It wasn’t me. It was Reid.”
“Did you know “Rockstar” is by Nickelback?” Reid asked Logan.
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t admit it. I’m embarrassed for you, I really am.” Logan picked up one of the shots.
“I’ve been living in Alberta,” Reid defended. “Ask me about country music.”
“Nickelback are from Alberta,” Sophie cried with exasperation. “Turn in your passport and let’s make a pact that this is our last one.”
They lifted their glasses in agreement and shot them.
It was not the last one, but they danced off the alcohol in the second set, ending with a rousing shout of “Life Is a Highway,” which had the whole place singing along.
“We like to end with this Leonard Cohen song,” the lead singer said. “It’s called “Closing Time,” and it’s not the one by Semisonic so no need to order any shots unless you want them. Find the one you’re going home with and cuddle up for your last dance.”
Emma went into Reid’s arms.
Sophie started to leave the floor, but a very bleary-eyed drywaller stepped in front of her.
“You’re the most alive person I’ve ever seen,” he said.
Sophie had thought she’d heard all the two a.m. come-ons. Hell, she’d fallen for plenty of them way back when, but this was so corny she could only blink with bemusement.
“Has that ever worked? Ever?” she asked.
“No dice, champ.” Logan slid his arm around her and turned her into his chest, drawing her into the lazy rhythm of the song. “Unless you wanted to dance with him?” he asked as he created a small space so he could see her face.
His shirt was damp from all their dancing. His hands on her waist were heavy and hot enough to scald.
“No, but I should get home.” Her feet shuffled into the slow beat, though, so she swayed in time with him. Their bodies brushed and she let herself lean a little closer.
The band sang a lyric about the gates of love budging an inch and she kept her gaze pinned on the hollow at the base of his throat.
Leave , she told herself, but she stayed in a state of heaven and hell, thinking of all the times she had left with the wrong guy, wishing Logan had been the one taking her home. He would be tonight, but not in the way that mattered. Not forever.
He had called his life in Florida hollow. Hers had been so full all these years it was often too full, but there was a pocket of emptiness in it, too. It was a Logan-shaped hole that she had packed with graveled resentment and hostility, then papered over with Never Again.
Those sorts of patches never stuck, though. It was splitting and spilling and she could feel that empty space growing inside her again.
The last notes petered out and the lights went up and all the couples broke apart.
Sophie felt sweaty and melancholy as they trailed outside to begin walking home by the flashlights on their phones.
“Did you get your credit card?” Emma asked Reid.
“I told them to put all our drinks on Logan’s tab. They’ll settle up with him next time he’s in.”
“Joke’s on you. I’m going to expense it,” Logan said.
“The joke is on them.” Sophie thumbed at Reid and Emma. “They have a houseful of kids to wake up to. Thank you for that, by the way. Oh wait. The joke is on me ,” she realized with a groan. “I have a nine-year-old’s birthday party tomorrow. That’s going to be loud.”
“We have played this so smart, Em.” Reid looped his arm around his wife. “It’s Logan’s day with Storm. See you at seven, bro. Oh wait. I’ll still be in bed.”
“We promised the kids you’d make pancakes,” Emma said over her shoulder. “But Imogen is a great helper. She hardly ever gets eggshell in the batter anymore.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said as they reached the spot where the Fraser driveway split off from the lane that led to Sophie’s driveway and the rest of the houses along the flats behind the bluff. “You kids go home and have some of that loud sex you like to have. I’m sure Delta has learned to sleep through it.”
“Why does he have to ruin everything?” Reid asked Emma as they started up the hill.
She said something that made him chuckle, but Sophie didn’t catch it.
The night closed in around her and Logan as they continued along the lane.
Despite the glow off her phone, Sophie staggered when her foot turned on a small, round rock.
“Okay?” Logan caught her elbow.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not as drunk as me?”
“I outweigh you by fifty pounds and I train for nights like this.”
He didn’t actually drink that much. He often had a beer with Gramps at the end of the day, but not always. If he did, it was usually just the one. As far as she could tell, he didn’t drink at all if it was his shift with Storm.
“How drunk are you?” he asked in a tone that instantly made her cautious.
“Not sober enough for whatever you’re thinking about suggesting.”
“I don’t want sex.” He sounded insulted. “I wondered if you were going to remember something if I say it.”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
He stopped and turned off his flashlight. Her own glowed in a circle around her feet as she stopped to look at his silhouette.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, but firm and sincere. Powerful enough to shake the ground beneath her feet.
“For?” She braced herself, not sure she wanted to know. Not sure she wanted to go all the way back to that. Not now. Not ever.
He drew a breath and slowly blew it out. His head turned so he looked out to where the wind was coming in off the water and the sound of waves washing against the shore was a steady rush.
“For hurting you. For taking advantage of the way you felt about me. It’s no excuse to say that I needed to reinvent myself away from here, but that’s what it was. That’s why I didn’t want you to come with me. My screwed-up relationship with my father—with my whole family—was never yours to fix so I shouldn’t have turned to you when I was looking for ways to avoid him back then. That was childish and selfish.”
“It was.” She folded her arms, trying to tamp down on the ache that was rising in her chest like a breaching orca.
“It was him ,” he said in a rasp. “I knew that’s how he behaved. He never thought through to the fact that he was hurting someone, but I went ahead and did it myself. To you. I told myself our situation was different because…”
She stopped breathing, instinctually bracing against whatever he was about to say.
“I didn’t believe what you felt for me was love.”
That went into her heart like a hot, sharp blade.
“How could it be?” He continued softly. “You were young and too removed from the real world to know there were far better people out there. I didn’t feel lovable, Soph. Not good enough for any kind of love, especially not the kind you were offering.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “So I let myself believe your feelings were immature and superficial. That way, hurting you wasn’t such a cruel thing to do.”
She definitely didn’t want to hear this. Her lungs ached and her throat was so tight, she couldn’t speak. She clicked off her own phone so they were in the dark. Only the dim moonlight obscured by clouds provided a faint illumination.
“I only realized that what you felt was really love when it was gone.” His voice was thick with regret. “Even at Mom’s wedding, I thought you were just mad. Making a point. I didn’t want to believe that you could hate me, either. Isn’t that ironic? But the more I realized that you were never going to forgive me, the more I realized what I had killed. I am so sorry for that.”
A huge chasm stretched from the back of her throat down behind her breastbone, open and aching, leaving her exposed. She was right back to standing on that ferry slip all over again, feeling immature and insecure and wronged. Raw. The hot sting of betrayal and loss and self-contempt sat behind her eyes in scalding heat.
“If…” He swallowed. “If you wanted to hurt me by hurting yourself, you did. Don’t do that again. I’m not worth it.”
Her lips were so unsteady, she had to iron them straight by pressing them together before she could find words in the cavern of her chest and bring them up.
“You did me a favor,” she said, voice strained. “If I had gone with you, I wouldn’t have Biyen. I would have spent all that time with you instead of Mom because I would have been too afraid of losing you to make her my priority. You taught me that no man is worth gutting myself over. No man is going to come along and save me, either. I learned to look after myself and I do. So thank you for that.”
She wasn’t trying to sound bitter, but his breath sucked in as though she’d landed an unexpected knee to his gut.
“Thank you for the apology. I appreciate it. I do,” she said sincerely. “But I hope you understand that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”