Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
WEST
It had been a week since Loxley left, and I’d begrudgingly spent more time in Harmony Haven than I cared to. But someone had to keep Miles from jumping off the deep end.
He’d tried going back to work for a few days, but his captain ultimately suspended him “until he could calm down.” The poor guy had no idea how deep Miles had gotten himself into Loxley’s situation. If he did, he’d probably strip him of his badge altogether.
“He still has a pole in the water,” I told Easton over the phone as I sat on the other side of Miles’ boat, babysitting him. “I mean, there’s no bait on it, but the man is giving it his best shot.”
“He’s so screwed,” Easton laughed.
“Reminds me of some other idiot I know,” I shot back, referring to him. My brothers were both insane for letting themselves fall in love. All it ever led to was heartache and chaos. Sure, I liked Jesse, and I knew Loxley was amazing, but they’d turned my brothers into people I barely recognized.
“Just keep him from diving in headfirst and bring him to Sunday dinner. Maybe we can help him figure out what to do.”
“I’ve been telling him to go get his girl, but he’s not convinced it’s what she wants.”
“It’s complicated, being in the public eye. You know how that goes.”
“I’m not in the public eye,” I scoffed. “I try not to be. They just find me anyway.”
“Exactly. Now imagine how much worse it is for Loxley.”
I shuddered, the mere thought of all the cameras and attention aimed at her making me break out in a sweat. Or maybe it was the sun beating down on me in the middle of that godforsaken lake.
“Having fun?” I called out to Miles, giving him a thumbs up.
“Fuck off,” he yelled back.
“Still having fun,” I relayed dryly to Easton.
“You’re a good brother,” he teased.
“I’m wearing khaki shorts with an elastic waist and a vented shirt, Easton. I’m the best brother that ever existed.”
His laughter was loud enough to echo through the speaker. I shouldn’t have asked Grams to find me something to wear for fishing. I should’ve just ordered something with a higher thread count from the city.
“I hate fishing,” Miles grumbled, reeling in his line that hadn’t had a bite all day—mainly because he forgot the bait.
I wasn’t about to teach him the ins and outs of fishing, though.
Especially when “bait the hook” was the only step I knew.
Gramps was supposed to take over for me tomorrow. I was gonna let him explain the basics.
“I gotta go,” I told Easton. “We hate fishing now.”
Easton laughed again and told me he’d see me at dinner. I hung up and stood, making my way to Miles’ side of the boat and grabbed his favorite pole before he had the chance to break it.
“You and I have never had much in common,” I said lightly, hoping to get a smile out of him. “But when you just said you hated fishing right now, I felt closer to you than I ever have.”
“She’s ruined everything,” Miles muttered. “My house reminds me of her. Fishing reminds me of her. My favorite spot on the bank of the lake? Her. I can’t even go to Sunday dinner tonight because she was there too. Everything I love. Ruined.”
“Come on, man. Let’s get this boat back on the trailer, and I’ll buy you a new house. One that won’t remind you of Loxley.”
“You’ll have to buy me a new boat, too,” he added.
“Deal,” I laughed, though I wasn’t kidding. I’d buy the whole damn town if it got me off that lake.
When we got back to Miles’ house, I headed straight for the shower and then changed into something more comfortable—my Armani suit. Maybe it wasn’t comfort in the traditional sense, but being in control made me feel at ease. And being dressed right made me feel in control.
Miles was in the living room holding the lyrics Loxley had left behind.
He hadn’t read more than the top page because he said it would be an invasion of her privacy, but I knew better.
She’d left them for him to read. I was about to urge him to flip through them when he tossed them onto the coffee table and raked his hands through his hair.
“You going back to work tomorrow?” I asked, trying to gauge where his head was.
“That’s the plan,” he sighed. He loved being a cop, but his heart just wasn’t in it anymore.
“Well, get dressed. I promised everyone I’d drag you to Sunday dinner before I head back to the city tonight. I have a meeting first thing in the morning so I can’t stay here.”
“Good,” he muttered. “I’m tired of you hanging around. You’re a downer.”
I laughed. Poor guy was trying everything he could to deflect. But I wasn’t offended. In fact, I had an idea. Something that might give him the push he needed to do what we all knew he should’ve done days ago.
Go get Loxley.