Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Calvin wrenched the door open and glared at the people on the other side. He didn’t mean to be aggressive, but judging by the half step they all took away from him, he knew his face wasn’t exactly friendly.
He couldn’t help it. The softness of Daphne’s skin still tingled against his palms. His scalp pricked where she’d fisted a hand in his hair. His lips burned with the need to taste her again.
He wanted to make her come undone. She’d gotten under his skin with her proper, buttoned-up exterior and wildcat heart. Truthfully, she’d always been intriguing to him. Always made him want more. It reminded him of how fiending for something felt, to want to lose himself in oblivion.
That sensation should have been enough to get him to pull back, to show him that pursuing Daphne was bad for his health. But Calvin couldn’t help it. She was uptight and proper and a little Goody Two-Shoes, except she wasn’t . And he wanted to strip away every bit of her armor until he knew her inside and out. Until all her secrets belonged to him.
But he’d been interrupted, the spell had been broken, and he didn’t know if he’d get the chance again.
“What?” he barked.
“Well, I never,” Mabel said, planting her hands on her hips. “Is that the way you talk to the constituents of this island, Sheriff?”
A deep, measured breath later, and Calvin was a touch calmer. “My apologies. What can I do for you?”
“We brought dinner,” Helen said, lifting a silver pot. “Chicken-and-barley soup with fresh bread and butter.”
“And a side salad,” Ellie added. She carried a wooden bowl covered in plastic wrap. “We wanted to check on Daphne.”
“We called,” Mabel informed him, “but no one answered.”
“If you guys are busy, we can come back later ...” Ellie’s eyes sparkled as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“No,” Daphne blurted out behind him. She was at the other end of the hall, leaning against the wall with her injured leg bent so she wouldn’t put any weight on it. She was wearing a fresh T-shirt and jeans, but her cheeks were still flushed. “No, we’re not busy. We were just talking about getting dinner started.”
“I’m sure you were,” Ellie said. Daphne shot her a venomous look, which Ellie answered with a smile.
“Good,” Mabel said, and shoved her way past Calvin. After stepping into the living room, the old lady looked around for a moment before saying, “You do keep a clean house, Sheriff. I’m impressed.”
“How’s the ankle, Daphne?” Helen asked, walking past them into the kitchen.
“Getting better.”
Ellie followed the two of them around the corner, and Calvin heard her ask, “Are you still going to be able to do the dance at the vow renewal?”
Wanting to follow them but feeling reticent about leaving Mabel unsupervised in his home, Calvin cleared his throat. “Can I get you a drink, Mabel?”
She paused in her inspection of the few photos he’d left on his mantel and met his gaze. “That would be wonderful. Have you got any wine?”
“I don’t keep alcohol in the house,” he said. “I can get you a soda or water, though.”
“Water will be perfect.” She smiled at him and turned back to her snooping.
It would be fine to leave her in the living room. She was an old lady, not a threat. But it was strange enough having Daphne in his space—hosting her family was another matter entirely. He liked his things to be kept a certain way. He relied on routine and predictability. His childhood had been marked by the chaos and desperation of having to fend for himself, and now his home felt sacred.
But he could deal with one dinner with a few locals. Daphne had always been close with her family; maybe it was time he got to know them better.
He made it to the kitchen in time to see Ellie hunting through his drawers and pulling out a serrated knife. She moved to the board, where a fresh loaf of bread waited. Helen opened two or three cabinets in search of bowls, which he retrieved for her on the far end of the kitchen. Daphne sat at the kitchen table, watching quietly.
“Tell us the truth, Sheriff—”
“Call me Calvin. Please.”
Helen smiled. “Tell us the truth, Calvin. Is the dance at your mother’s vow renewal as over the top as it sounds?”
He snorted, dropping a few ice cubes into a glass before grabbing the jug of cold water from the fridge for Mabel. “It’s worse,” he admitted.
Ellie snorted as she cut thick slices of bread and arranged them on a plate. Glancing at her sister, she said, “I just can’t imagine you getting up in front of a room full of people to do a choreographed dance, Daphne. No offense.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “It’s not that bad.”
“You’ve always been my quiet, studious daughter,” Helen cut in. “Always keeping to yourself. I think it’s good for you to try new things. Get you out of your shell.”
“As long as she doesn’t get any more injuries,” Mabel said, ambling into the kitchen. She slung an arm around Daphne’s shoulders and squeezed. “You’re more suited to a library than a stage, but you’ll be all right.”
Daphne’s smile was tight. Calvin watched her force a laugh as she pulled away from her grandmother, and a pang went through his chest. How much of Daphne’s image as the good daughter in the family was her own, and how much of it had been imposed on her?
He knew there was more to her than a geeky girl who loved numbers. He knew she had fire in her veins. How could she not, when she’d gotten in the way of Ryan Lane trying to steal a cashbox at the Winter Market, and the pickup truck driver trying to attack her grandmother? Even the way she’d questioned Barela had been proof of her spine.
And then there was the way she acted with him. She was the furthest thing from quiet and studious whenever they were in a room alone together.
A woman who tore her shirt off the way she had a few minutes ago wasn’t the “quiet, studious” one.
“Maybe the rolled ankle is a good thing,” Ellie added, dropping into a chair across from Daphne. “You can use it as an excuse to keep out of the limelight.”
Helen hummed her agreement as she brought bowls to the table. “I just hate to see you hurt, honey,” she said, leaning over to kiss Daphne on the head.
Calvin watched the exchange, noting the tightness in Daphne’s shoulders. She thanked her mother for the food and said, “I should probably just focus on work instead of jumping into the thick of things. That’s more Ellie’s thing.”
“You’ve been all off kilter since you got back on the island,” Helen agreed. “Just look at your face, sweetheart.”
There was a note in her voice that made Calvin’s hackles rise. And when Daphne touched her bruises self-consciously, the pressure inside him became too much.
He’d always thought of Daphne’s family as a tight-knit, Brady Bunch type of clan. In high school, he’d resented her for it. Her dad had been a beloved science teacher and her mom the kindhearted school nurse. Every day, he’d see their perfect little family in the hallways. She’d had it all—both parents, good grades, all the support she could ever need—and he’d had nothing. He’d felt bitter about all the advantages she’d been given, even if her family had a reputation for being lovable troublemakers.
She’d been the symbol of everything Calvin had wanted and could never have. He, who’d lost his dad, who’d been neglected by his mother from the time he was old enough to make his own breakfast, who’d had to pay for all his own clothes and food with whatever money he could scrounge, who hadn’t had a single person make him feel like he mattered. He’d seen Daphne, watched her parents drive her home from school, envied the way she had every advantage, and he’d felt the sharp bite of jealousy.
But he’d been wrong.
Just as Calvin had been put in a box marked “Lost Cause,” Daphne had been put in a similar one marked “The Good One.”
Her family cared about her—that much was obvious. But did they really know her?
“Maybe you should stick to accounting once this vow renewal is over and done with,” Mabel said with a laugh.
“Daphne’s more than capable of doing whatever she puts her mind to,” he cut in, voice harsh. The four women at the table looked up at him with wide eyes. He tried to temper his tone, but his chest was hot and he felt outraged on Daphne’s behalf. “She earned those bruises with her bravery,” he added. “The fact that she’s also a talented accountant is something to be celebrated. It doesn’t mean she can’t be both.”
Daphne blinked at him, straightening. Her eyes were wide and full of emotion. She swallowed thickly and gave him a tiny secret smile. Then she picked up her spoon. “Does that mean you expect me to be up there dancing with the rest of them at the vow renewal?”
“I expect you to teach me the steps, because last time I checked, I’m the one who screwed up and caused that whole mess on Sunday.”
Daphne’s smile widened until her whole face was lit with it. It was like the sun finally poking out from behind the clouds after a long, dreary winter. He felt the warmth of it from all the way across the kitchen.
Calvin grabbed his bowl and took the last chair at the table. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you’ve already memorized all the steps. Between you and Ceecee, you can teach me well enough that I won’t smack anyone else in the face.”
Daphne’s laugh was like a balm on his flaring temper. She nodded. “It really wasn’t that complicated,” she teased.
“I wish I could see this dance,” Ellie said. “You think you can sneak a camera into the event?”
For some reason, that made Mabel sit up and take notice. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Daphne groaned. “Grandma. Please.”
Grunting, Mabel simply tucked into her food and ignored her granddaughter. Calvin flicked his gaze from the old woman over to Daphne, who rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Where’s Dad?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from Calvin to look at her mother.
“He and Hugh are fixing the fence on the northern pasture. Two of the sheep got out this morning, and we had to spend three hours looking for them.”
“You should have just called me to bring Louie over,” Ellie said.
“We didn’t want to bother you,” Helen replied, helping herself to salad. “I know you’re busy with the wedding and the house plans.”
“Still. Louie is literally a sheepdog, Mom. He would have brought them back in ten minutes.”
Helen just laughed. “Maybe your father and I like the pain of doing it ourselves. It gave us something to do in our retirement.”
Ellie snorted, and Mabel laughed. Calvin ate quietly, listening. Eating a home-cooked meal surrounded by people with this much easy comfort with each other was unfamiliar. He wasn’t sure where he fit in, or whether he was enjoying himself or not. He still felt on edge on Daphne’s behalf, but there was a pleasantness to the company.
“Heard there were two break-ins last night,” Mabel said to him after a few moments. “The Deacons’ new restaurant and down at Barela Contracting.”
“Who’d you hear that from?” Calvin asked, brows arched.
“Who didn’t I hear it from would be a shorter list,” Mabel replied with a sly tilt of her lips.
“You forget that this is Fernley,” Daphne chided. Her eyes were lit from within, and Calvin found himself staring at her for a beat too long.
“Right,” he said, dropping his gaze to his food. “There was probably a game of telephone going as soon as the thief broke the glass on Romano’s window.”
“So you think there’s only one thief?” Mabel prodded. “You think the two are connected? People are starting to worry, you know.”
“As long as you lock your doors at night, I don’t see why you should,” Calvin replied. “We’re still investigating, so I can’t tell you anything more than that.”
“Playing it close to your chest,” the old woman said, arching her brows. “Very mysterious, Sheriff.” She glanced at Daphne. “I can see why you like him so much.”
“I do not like him,” Daphne shot back, outraged.
Ellie laughed in her soup, and Helen just looked at her eldest daughter like she’d sprouted another nose. They, along with Mabel, laughed as a flush crept over Daphne’s face. When Daphne puffed her cheeks out in embarrassment and began to chuckle, Calvin realized this was the image of her family he’d always envisioned. They were close, they cared about each other, but they teased each other too.
An old wound ached inside him. Growing up, he’d wanted so badly to be part of something like this. He wanted a big family around him. People who gave two shits if he hurt himself, who knew each other’s business, who remembered his birthday. And all he’d had was a mother who cared more about moving on with her own life than taking care of him. He learned that he had to fend for himself or ruin himself in the process.
And ruin had been a real possibility.
“I don’t dislike him,” Daphne amended, not meeting Calvin’s eye. Funny thing to say, considering what they’d been doing when the doorbell rang. “He’s a competent sheriff.”
“I might keel over from the praise,” Calvin put in before biting off a piece of soup-dipped bread.
Ellie and Mabel laughed, and Helen gave her elder daughter an indulgent smile. Daphne’s cheeks grew redder.
He wondered how Daphne had felt growing up with so many big personalities. Maybe she’d retreated into herself because they took up so much space. Maybe shrinking herself to fit the mold of the Good One had been easier than elbowing them out of the way so she could grow.
“I don’t dislike you either, Cupcake,” he said, and winked when her glare sliced across the table to him.
They finished their dinner, and Daphne’s family lingered only long enough to clean up and leave his place as tidy as they’d found it. He helped Daphne totter to the front door to say goodbye to her family, and they both let out a long sigh as he closed the door behind them.
“I love them,” Daphne said, “but they’re a lot.”
He laughed. “I’m starting to understand that,” he said, and helped her to the sofa. They sank down into the cushions as the gentle patter of the rain falling on the roof filled the silence. Finally, they were alone again.