Christmas in Lucky Harbor Read online

  “Very good,” Chloe said. “Can you say the alphabet, too?”

  “As the middle, I’m the logical choice for mediator. We have decisions to make, and they get made right now. Majority rules.” She looked at each of them. “We walk away or rebuild. We’re voting, now. Youngest first.”

  Chloe pulled out an iTouch, which Lance had lent her in the hospital, and brought up a Magic 8-Ball application. “Magic 8-Ball,” she intoned with great ceremony. “Should I stay here in Lucky Harbor?”

  Maddie was boggled. “What? You can’t leave your vote up to a Magic 8-Ball!”

  “I can’t?”

  “No!” But Maddie bit her lip, trying to see the iTouch screen. “What did it say?”

  Chloe looked down and sighed. “Outlook not so good. Just as well. I’m ready to blow this popsicle stand anyway.”

  Disappointment practically choking her, Maddie turned to Tara.

  Tara held her hand out for Chloe’s iTouch. “Let me see that thing.”

  “You aren’t serious.” Maddie’s throat felt like she’d swallowed shards of glass. “Please say you’re not serious.”

  “Okay. I’m not serious.” Tara reached for Maddie’s hand, her smile a little watery. “I vote we stay here.”

  “Me, too,” Chloe said. “I was only kidding before. We can’t leave now. Things are just getting good.”

  “Two yeses,” Tara said. “Maddie?”

  She was dizzy, overwhelmed, and confused as hell.

  “Aw, look at her,” Tara murmured. “Like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

  “She’s got fear written all over her,” Chloe agreed. “Definitely a high flight risk. Makes me wonder if she wanted us to vote the other way.”

  “Huh,” Tara said, nodding. “Interesting. You mean she wanted us to make the decision for her so she didn’t have to be accountable?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m right here,” Maddie said. “I can hear you.”

  “You know what you need?” Chloe asked. “You need to get over yourself.”

  “Hey,” Maddie said. “When you first showed up here with your bad ’tude, did I tell you to get over it?”

  “Yes, actually. Several times.”

  Okay, true. Maddie turned on a smug Tara and narrowed her eyes. “And you.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “I gave you sympathy. I want sympathy!”

  “Are you kidding me? You have the sexiest man on the planet wanting you. You’re getting laid regularly. No sympathy for you!”

  Maddie stood up. “I need some fresh air.”

  “Last time you said that, you went to the bar, got toasted, and kissed a hottie.”

  Halfway to the door, Maddie came back and snatched Chloe’s iTouch out of her hands. “And I need this.”

  Just outside, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Am I going to get it right this time?”

  The iTouch clouded and then cleared with her answer:

  Ask again later

  Dammit! She shoved the thing in her pocket and got into her car. She drove along the beach, which was dense with fog. The water was gray and choppy today, an endless cycle of unrestrained violence.

  Sort of how her gut felt.

  Somehow she ended up at the pier, ticket in hand, staring up at the Ferris wheel. Do it, the brave little voice in her head said.

  Live.

  Which is how she found herself in the swinging seat, clinging to the bar in front of her, her legs like jelly as she rose in the air.

  And—oh, shit—rose some more.

  And more…

  And then, when she was as high as she could go—and not breathing—the Ferris wheel stuttered to a stop.

  Her heart did the same.

  Around her, the few others on the wheel with her gasped and woo-hoo’d their delight.

  She wasn’t feeling delight. She was feeling stark terror. Whose idea had this been? What the hell had she been thinking? Life was just as good on the ground!

  She tried to look at that ground, but her forward motion had the bucket tilting forward, and she felt her head spin. “Oh, God, oh, God—” She had a death grip on the bar now. She couldn’t feel her legs at all. And her stomach was sitting in her throat, blocking all air from coming through.

  Stop looking down. Forcing her head up, she stared out at the view. It was incredible. If she discounted the vertigo, that is. From this high, she had a three-hundred-sixty-degree vista of the sparkling Pacific Ocean and the rocky shores for as far as she could see.

  And the town. She could see all of Lucky Harbor from here, and it was as pretty as a postcard. It was a perspective she never would have appreciated had she not faced her fear and come up here.

  Okay, so she hadn’t quite overcome the fear, and she was a minute from hyperventilating, but she’d get there.

  Thing was, she had a lot of fears to overcome. She had a lot of “roads not taken,” or “rides not taken.” There’d been things she’d convinced herself she couldn’t do.

  For instance, she’d convinced herself her mother hadn’t been interested in more of a relationship. It was too late for what-ifs on that one, but what about her sisters? It didn’t seem too late for them, even though she’d told herself that they hadn’t wanted her in their lives. The truth was, she hadn’t reached out, either, and she could have. She should have.

  She’d done the same to Jax. He might not have been forthright, not completely, but he’d shown her from the beginning how he felt, without words. He’d pushed her to want more—more of the truth from him, more of everything. Why hadn’t she wanted to hear it?

  Fear. She’d let it rule her.

  That had to change. If she lived through this stupid ride.

  Just as she thought it, the Ferris wheel jerked and her bucket swung as the ride started moving again. And ten minutes later, after she’d gone around three times and finally had her feet firmly back on the ground, she grinned.

  She’d made it. She got back into her car feeling better and more determined and drove without a destination in mind.

  No, that was a lie. She knew exactly where she was going. She pulled into Jax’s driveway and parked. It was forty-five degrees out, and she was sweating.

  You know what to do, he’d said.

  And he’d been right. She wanted to stay in Lucky Harbor, and she wanted to be a family with her sisters.

  Both of those things were within her reach.

  She also wanted Jax.

  Hopefully he was still within her reach, as well. She knocked on his door, and when he didn’t answer, she twisted around and eyed his Jeep. He was home…

  Then she heard it, the steady, rhythmic banging, and she followed the sound around to the back of the house. He was there in battered boots, a gray Henley, and beloved old Levi’s faded to threads in spots. He was chopping wood, the ax rising and falling with easy grace. His shirt was soaked through with sweat and clinging to his every hard inch.

  He had a lot of hard inches. Just watching him gave her a hot flash.

  He had to have seen her come around the side of the house. He had instincts like a cat, and she was making no move to be secretive, but he kept chopping.

  Saying nothing.

  Finally, she risked life and limb and stepped close enough that he was forced to stop or put her in danger from the flying shards of wood.

  Lowering the ax, he leaned on it, his breath coming steady but hard.

  Still saying nothing.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  Fair enough question, since she’d asked him the same only this morning. It figured that he’d get right to the point. He was good at that.

  She wasn’t. “I was… confused. And I guess a little mad at everyone, and then I went for a drive and my car came here.”

  His mouth quirked very slightly. “Did your car forget that you’re mad at me, as well?”

  “Well,” she sa