07 It Had to Be You Read online

  “Hey,” Jack said, “I’m not interrupting, am I?” And before they could answer, he pushed his way in. “Need to borrow a paddleboard.”

  “It’s in the shed, not the house,” Luke said.

  “Need a wetsuit too.”

  “It’s June,” Luke said. “Only pussies need wetsuits in June.”

  “I’ve got a date later. Can’t risk shrinkage.”

  Luke started to shove him out, but Jack planted his feet. “Not going anywhere until you give me your wetsuit. I can stand here all day. You know I can.”

  Luke muttered an oath and turned to the door himself. “There’s one in the garage somewhere. Hold on.”

  When he was gone, Jack turned to Ali and flashed her a smile. “You can feel the love between me and him, right?”

  Ali laughed. He was absurdly handsome and even more absurdly charming. “I can absolutely feel it.”

  “Luke’s the son of two doctors,” Jack said, “so it’s probably not his fault that he’s such an ass. Or that he thinks he’s always right.”

  “Is he? Always right?”

  “Yeah, but don’t tell him that. It’ll go straight to his head. He’s got that classic hero complex thing going. It’s why shit hits him so hard. He likes to blame himself.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Phil,” Luke said dryly, coming back into the room, tossing a wetsuit at him. “You can leave now.”

  “Sure. Oh,” Jack said, turning back, “I’m supposed to tell you, Joe Wykowski wants you to figure out who’s stealing the reclaimed lumber he has stacked on the side of his house. It’s worth a fortune. He suspects it’s his ex-wife’s boyfriend’s son, who’s a carpenter, if that helps.”

  “If he knows who it is…” Luke started.

  “The guy carries his nail gun on his hip like he’s Dirty Harry,” Jack said. “They need you and your badass attitude. And real gun.”

  Luke stared at him. “So I’m what, the new geriatric private detective of Lucky Harbor?”

  “Hey, I’m not the one who found Mr. Schmidt’s GTO,” Jack said. “On shift last night, I had to rescue Mrs. Myers’s cat out of a tree, and she was telling her entire bridge club about you. Apparently they all have various problems that they need the local investigator stud muffin to solve—their words, by the way. Not that you’re not a total stud muffin; you’re just not my type.”

  Ali laughed.

  Luke manhandled Jack out the front door and then turned to Ali. At his expression, her heart squeezed. She’d watched him pretend not to care about anything, even as the opposite was true. He’d helped his sister get on her feet and stay there. In his job, he did whatever was needed. He’d fixed up the house he’d neglected.

  And then there was her. He’d given her a place to stay, a friendship…and more.

  They’d grown up so differently. His parents had expected a lot out of him, looking to him to pretty much raise himself and his sister too. As a result, Luke stood up for himself and others too weak to do so.

  Ali admired that, so much.

  “About earlier…” Luke said.

  She took in his expression. “It’s okay, Luke,” she said softly. “You don’t have to give me the speech.”

  “The speech?”

  “The one where you rationalize how we got naked again, and how it’s the last time, yadda, yadda.”

  A ghost of a smile curved his lips. “I thought it was blah, blah, blah.”

  “Look, you’re right to hold back with me,” she said. “Historically I’ve made some bad decisions, and—”

  He snagged her and hauled her in close. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said with quiet steel. “Not one thing. You’re perfect.”

  “Well—”

  “Say it,” he said.

  She softened and cupped his face. “Luke, I—”

  “Say it, Ali. Say you’re fucking perfect.”

  She stared up at the fierce look of protectiveness in his features and felt her heart clutch. She needed to lighten this mood of his and fast, or she wasn’t going to be responsible for jumping him. “I’m fucking perfect,” she said.

  It worked. He flashed a smile. “I really like it when you say ‘fuck.’”

  Chapter 22

  Ali found Aubrey at her desk in Town Hall, typing away on her computer, her brow furrowed.

  “Does everyone always work on the weekends?” Ali asked.

  “Just the lucky ones.” Aubrey looked up and took in Ali’s hair with assessing eyes. “You’re supposed to use that anti-frizz every day.”

  Ali ran a hand down her hair and grimaced. “I forgot today. Listen, I have a question.”

  “No, I’m not still doing my boss.”

  “I actually wasn’t going to ask that. Although I’m kinda wondering why you still work for him.”

  It was Aubrey’s turn to grimace. “It’s a good job,” she said. “And I can resist him.” Though she didn’t really look one hundred percent sure. “Listen, I’m pretty busy, so…”

  “Is there anyone else?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Ali moved closer and leaned in. “I’m wondering if there’s anyone else that Teddy’s seeing. Other than you and Melissa.”

  Aubrey looked at her for a long time. “You have someone particular in mind?”

  “Maybe.”

  Aubrey arched a perfectly waxed brow and looked like she might have something to say, but Gus walked by with a mop.

  Aubrey and Ali remained quiet until the hallway was empty again.

  “We can’t talk here,” Aubrey said.

  “I know. Just tell me you know something.”

  “Not concrete.”

  “Would you be willing to call me if that changes?”

  “You mean if the couch gets put into use again, something like that?” Aubrey asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Aubrey went pensive, then sighed. “Damn, I really liked this job.”

  Luke drove into town and found Sawyer at his desk, head down on his arms. “Bad day?”

  “Some high school punks drove all the way up to Mt. Hood—three hours each way—loaded up fifteen truckloads of snow, drove it all the way back into town, and packed in all the doors to the school last night. Not yesterday afternoon. Not after dinner. At three a.m. Summer school detention had to be cancelled today.”

  “Could be worse,” Luke said.

  Sawyer lifted his head and blinked bleary-eyed at Luke. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “I think Bree Medina stole the fifty grand.”

  Sawyer stared at him and then silently handed Luke his empty coffee mug.

  Luke took it, walked down the hall to the service table, filled it with straight, hair-raising black, and brought it back to Sawyer’s office.

  Sawyer drank, winced, and then drank some more. Eyes far more sharp now, he looked at Luke. “What the fuck?”

  Luke opened his mouth, but Sawyer stood up. “No, wait. Not here.”

  They headed out in Sawyer’s utility vehicle while Luke gave him the rundown.

  “Jesus,” Sawyer said and called the mayor. “Hey, Tony. Yeah, we did get a great turnout at the ground-breaking ceremony earlier. Listen, what’s Bree up to? She busy?” he paused, listening. “I just wanted to talk to her about redecorating my office…I understand. Tell her I hope her mom’s feeling better real soon.” He slid his phone away. “Bree’s gone to her mom’s place in Ocean Shores for a few days.”

  “Ocean Shores,” Luke repeated. “Her mom lives in Ocean Shores. Where the next closest nail salon is. We should…”

  Sawyer pulled over and used his smartphone to find the number and make the call. When he hung up, he looked at Luke. “Bree is a client there, and they said she has gotten blue, starred nail tips before.” He pulled back onto the street, made a few turns, and stopped about halfway down a street, pointing to a duplex on the corner. “Marshall’s new place.”

  There was no activity.

  Sawyer turned off his vehicle. “Marshall cancelled a