Forever and a Day (Lucky Harbor) Read online

  Shit.

  Literally.

  Grinding his teeth into powder, Josh lifted his shoe, studied the bottom of it, then dangled Tank at eye level. “Have you ever heard of mince meat?”

  Tank tried to lick his nose.

  “Not cool, dog.” Josh dealt with the mess. If he left it for Nina, she’d quit for sure since she’d already made it clear that nothing puppy related was on her plate. And that was all Josh needed, for yet another person to quit on him. It took a village to run his life, and his village was in mutiny.

  He caught sight of the forty bucks still on the kitchen table. Hell. Grace hadn’t taken the money. And she needed it, too, which he knew because this was Lucky Harbor. You could drop a pot of gold on the pier and a perfect stranger would hand it back to you, but you couldn’t keep a secret to save your life.

  Josh stripped out of his wet scrubs in the laundry room and slid Tank a long look. Unconcerned, Tank was snuffling around in his bed, turning his fat, little puppy body in three tight circles before plopping down with a snort and closing his eyes. Apparently he was satisfied with the destruction he’d left in his wake.

  Definitely the Antichrist.

  The house phone was ringing, probably because his cell was no longer working. Josh grabbed a set of fresh scrubs from the freshly delivered stack that he kept in the basket on the dryer and headed for the door. Later. He’d deal with it all later.

  This is how he survived the daily insanity of his life, using his unique ability to prioritize and organize according to importance. Taking care of his family—important. Incoming phone call to inform him he was late—redundant, and therefore not critical.

  Josh worked two shifts a week in the ER and four shifts at his dad’s practice. His dad had been gone five years and Josh still didn’t think of the practice as his own, but it was, complete with all the responsibilities of running it. When he could, Josh also donated a shift to the local Health Services Center. All the work made for a great stock portfolio, but it was hell on his home life.

  Hell on Toby.

  Something had to give, and soon. Probably Josh’s own sanity, but for now, he headed back to the hospital only to be called into a board meeting.

  He wasn’t surprised by the topic at hand. The board wanted him to sell the practice, incorporating it into the hospital as many of the other local medical practitioners had done. The deal was they’d buy Josh out, pay him to stay on board, and also hire on another doctor to help him with the workload. Plus they’d guarantee the practice the hospital’s internal referrals.

  It was a dangling carrot.

  Except Josh hated carrots.

  This wasn’t the first time the board had made the offer. They’d been after him all year to sell, each offer getting progressively more aggressive. But Josh didn’t like being strong-armed, and he didn’t like thinking about how his dad would feel if Josh let his hard-earned practice slip out of his control.

  It was eight-thirty by the time he got home that night—half an hour past Toby’s bedtime. Last night, the five-year-old had been in bed at this time, asleep on his belly, legs curled under him, butt in the air, his chubby baby face smashed into his pillow. He’d clearly gone to bed directly from the bath because his dark hair had been sticking up in tufts, the same way Josh’s always did when he didn’t comb it.

  Toby’s pj’s had been—big surprise—Star Wars, and Josh had kneeled by the kid’s bed to stroke back the perpetually unruly hair. Toby had stirred, and then…

  Barked.

  He’d been barking ever since Anna had brought Tank home. It was a passing phase.

  Or so Josh desperately hoped.

  Toby was the spitting image of Josh, but he had his mother’s imagination and her temperament to boot. Josh could read that temperament in every line of his son’s carefree body as he slept with wild abandonment. He wondered if Ally would be able to see it. But of course she wouldn’t, because to see it, she’d have to actually see Toby, something she hadn’t attempted in years.

  Hoping the Bean was still up and using actual words tonight, Josh walked in the front door and stopped in his tracks.

  Devon Weller, Anna’s latest and hopefully soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, was sitting on the half wall between the dining room and living room, eyeballing his cell phone.

  Anna came into sight, arms whipping as she sped her wheelchair around the corner on two wheels. Hard to believe someone so tiny could move so fast, but Josh knew better than to underestimate his twenty-one-year-old sister.

  She’d created a figure-eight racecourse between the two couches and the dining room table and was getting some serious speed. In her lap, squealing with sheer joy and possibly also terror, was Josh’s mini-me—not asleep, nowhere close. With his eyes lit with excitement, cheeks ruddy from exertion, Toby was smiling from ear to ear.

  Tank was right on their heels—or wheels in this case—barking with wild abandoned delight, following as fast as his short little legs would take him.

  For a brief second, Josh stood there rooted to the spot by a deep, undefined ache in his chest, which vanished in an instant as Anna took a corner far too tight, wobbled, and tipped over, sending her and Toby flying.

  “Damn,” Devon said, and clicked something on his phone with his thumb.

  The idiot had been timing the event.

  Josh rushed past him to the crumpled heap of limbs. “Don’t move,” he ordered Anna, pulling Toby off her. He turned Toby in his arms and took in the face that was so like his own, except free of the exhaustion and cynicism that dogged Josh’s every breath.

  Toby grinned and threw his arms around Josh’s neck in greeting. The kid’s moods were pure and mercurial, but he loved with a fierceness that always grabbed Josh by the throat. He hugged Toby back hard, and Toby barked.

  Letting out a breath, Josh set him aside to lean over Anna, who hadn’t moved. He didn’t fool himself; he had no delusions of being able to control his sister. She hadn’t stayed still simply because he’d ordered her to. “Anna.” Gently he pushed the damp hair from her sweaty brow. “Talk to me.”

  She opened her eyes and laughed outright. “That was sweet,” she said.

  Toby tipped his head back and barked at the ceiling, his voice filled with glee.

  Josh sat back on his heels and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Toby should be in bed, Anna. And you could have hurt yourself.”

  She started to crawl to her chair. “Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.”

  Josh scooped her up while Devon sauntered over. Though how he could walk at all with his homeboy jeans at half past his ass was a mystery. Devon righted Anna’s wheelchair, and Josh set her into it.

  “Oh, relax,” she muttered after Josh stood over her, hands on hips. She tugged on Toby’s ear. “Hey, handsome. Go get ready for bed, ’k?”

  “Arf-arf,” Toby said, and turned to the hallway.

  Josh caught him by the back of his Star Wars sweatshirt. “You use soap and water today?”

  Toby scrunched up his nose and scratched his head.

  Josh took that as a no. “Use both now. And toothpaste.”

  “Arf,” Toby said slowly, all hurt puppy face.

  But Josh had learned—never cave. “Go on. I’ll be right there.”

  Toby went from sad to excited in a single heartbeat, because if Josh was coming, too, it meant a story. And for a moment, Toby looked young, so fucking painfully young, that Josh’s chest hurt again.

  Getting home in time to fall into bed exhausted was one thing. Getting home in time to crawl into bed with his son and spend a few minutes before they both crashed was even better. “Pick out a book,” he said.

  “Arf!”

  Josh gave Devon a look, and the guy made himself scarce. Devon might be a complete loser but he was a smart loser.

  Anna ignored Josh and pushed back her dark hair. She was tiny, always had been, but not frail. Never frail. She had the haunting beauty of Snow White.

  And the temperament