Yours Since Yesterday E-Book

Jennifer Bernard

• Herausgeber: Jennifer Bernard
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Lost Harbor, Alaska
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 385

Beschreibung

Once they were best friends. Now they’re from two different worlds.

Zoe Bellini’s world exploded the second she kissed her best friend…and not in a good way. Every teen dream came crashing down when Padric was whisked away from Alaska, and her luck hasn’t improved in the last fifteen years. In fact, the pizza shop owner’s terrible track record with men has become a local legend. She doesn’t expect it to change when Padric—now a world-famous rock star—sails back into town. It’s not like they can just pick up where they left off…but her traitorous body sure wants to try.

Padric Jeffers never expected to return to his hometown of Lost Harbor, Alaska—not after the scandal that sent his family fleeing. But a mysterious letter with a warning about his childhood friend Zoe? That has him postponing his tour and hopping on the next flight north. Zoe’s been on his mind and in his lyrics since he left her behind, and once he sets eyes on the stunning grown-up version of his best friend, his mission is clear: do whatever it takes to have her—and keep her—this time around.

Easier said than done, since not everyone in town is excited about Padric’s return. And someone will do anything it takes to get rid of him. Can a pizza maker and a rock star overcome their history—not to mention scandals, angsty fans and unexpected danger—and find their way back to love?

A standalone novel in the Lost Harbor, Alaska series.

Leseprobe

YOURS SINCE YESTERDAY

JENNIFER BERNARD

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

About the Author

Also by Jennifer Bernard

PROLOGUE

Fifteen years ago

Even though they’d been talking nonstop since they’d beached their kayaks, as soon as Padric and Zoe stepped into the ancient hush of Lost Souls Wilderness, they went quiet. They’d fought so hard for this chance—a hiking trip across Misty Bay…together…alone—that it seemed almost overwhelmingly exciting now that their trip had begun.

With each step, Zoe’s feet sank deeper into the thick moss of the path that led to Overlook Ridge. Up there, that was where they wanted to go, to where they could see all of Misty Bay, the vast ice fields of Lost Souls Wilderness, and even to the Gulf of Alaska. They’d been talking about it all summer, every time Padric stopped in for pizza on his way back from a fishing trip. He worked on his father’s fishing boat, while she worked at her family’s pizza shop. Neither one had much free time in the summer, but every time they saw each other, it felt like nothing had changed.

Best friends. With maybe something more hovering at the edge of possibility? Something almost too perfect to dream about?

Behind her, Padric made an eerie cawing sound that got her jumping. “Don’t do that!” she scolded him.

“I’m trying to warn the forest spirits that we’re coming.”

“The forest spirits?” She scoffed at his imagination. Of the two of them, he was the dreamy one drawn to the weird and the unusual. He blamed it on his Gaelic ancestry. She was more practical and good with her hands. “If they’re spirits, wouldn’t they already know?”

“If they know, isn’t it better to get on their good side?”

She laughed. “So that’s what that sound was all about? Getting on their good side?”

“It must have worked because no one’s pelting us with spruce cones.”

Just then, something dropped right onto the top of Zoe’s head.

She shrieked and jumped about a foot in the air. When she landed, her foot twisted under her.

“Ow!” Hopping on one foot, she grabbed for Padric’s hand. He helped her to a boulder that lay along the path—gray granite sparkling with embedded bits of quartz. She propped herself against it. Even though not much sunlight filtered through the tall canopy of the forest, the rock felt warm against her backside.

“Are you okay?” Padric knelt next to her in the moss. He picked up her leg and propped it on his strong thigh. A hidden shiver swept through her. So many girls at school had crushes on Padric, even though he was on the shy side. But he was picky about who he befriended, and for some reason, as soon as Zoe’s family had moved to Lost Harbor, he’d chosen her.

“I just twisted it a little.” She bit her lower lip to hold back the tears. Of all the stupid things to do only five minutes into their trip. “Maybe if I just let it rest for a minute?”

He nodded. “I’m gonna take your shoe off so I can see if it’s swollen.”

She gestured for him to go ahead. He rolled up the hem of her baggy pants—she was in the phase of hiding her body, embarrassed by all the new curves. Her skin shone white against the emerald green of the summer forest. He unlaced her canvas sneaker and ever so gently pulled apart the two sides.

When he rolled down her sock, she shivered again. His touch was so impossibly gentle. His hands were strong and tough from working on his dad’s boat, but somehow he managed not to hurt her at all as he probed her ankle.

“It’s a little swollen.” His voice sounded funny, tighter than normal.

“Hand me my pack. I have a first-aid kit with one of those ice packs that you crack to make it cold.” She was working hard to come off as purely practical. It was hard because the energy shimmering between them made her light-headed.

He opened up her pack and found the first-aid kit her mother had insisted she bring. “Props to your mom. How’d she know we’d need medical help in the first ten minutes?”

“She always thinks the worst is going to happen.”

Padric was peering farther into her pack. “Does she think we might get stranded for a year?”

She giggled as she cracked the quick-freeze ice pack. Mom had loaded her pack with last night’s spanakopita, an entire bag of cooked sausages, a two-pound hunk of cheese, homemade baklava and a few more goodies. “You know how the Bellini family is about food. There’s a reason we own a pizza shop.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said devoutly as he handed her a piece of baklava. “Here, want a bit to distract you from your pain?”

“Sure.” She accepted the baklava while he took the ice pack.

Very carefully, he placed it around her ankle and tugged her sock up to keep it in place. The cold immediately soothed the painful throbbing.

“Excellent work, doctor. I can pay you in dessert,” she teased.

Sitting back on his heels, Padric opened his mouth so she could pop the baklava onto his tongue.

They both savored the honey-drenched, flaky phyllo as it melted on their tongues. “That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever tasted,” he moaned. “What is that?”

“Just some Bellini family magic.”

And for some reason, those words filled her with a sense of power. Often she felt embarrassed by her family—so loud, so food-focused, so dark and curly, so hairy. But right now, looking at Padric as he swallowed down her mother’s baklava, she felt like a queen.

So she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

She tasted honey and the eagerness of a boy. After a moment of surprise, he kissed her back, clumsily, lips bumping against her teeth. It took them a moment, but then they figured out how to fit together, how if they slowed down and opened their mouths just a little bit, lips could pillow against lips and tongue touching tongue could send electric shocks along their skin.

She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. It might have been just a few moments or it could have been much longer. She wasn’t paying attention to the passage of time at all. Her entire focus was on the exciting sensations somersaulting through her, and the sense of having stepped through a veil into a new world.

She was kissing Padric Jeffers—her best friend, her favorite person in the world. KISSING HIM. What did it mean? What would happen next?

Her phone rang.

The sound penetrated through the soft forest sounds—mosquito whine, creek murmur, squirrel chirp—like a buzz saw.

It wasn’t even really her phone. The only one in the family who owned a cell phone was her father, but her mother had insisted she bring it in case of emergencies.

She drew away from Padric. They looked at each with wide eyes, as if they’d just witnessed some amazing new discovery that was going to change the world.

Her phone rang again, and this time it was joined by the sound of his phone. Padric actually had his own phone, which he’d bought with his fishing money. He used it, among other things, to call her from Dutch Harbor and Bristol Bay when he was fishing.

They both looked at their phones—alien hunks of plastic in this peaceful rain-fed wilderness.

“We’re both getting calls at the same time?” Padric said uneasily. “This can’t be good.”

Zoe felt the same; her throat had gone tight with anxiety. Her father had a heart condition, and she worried about him all the time. “Who’s going to answer first?” she asked nervously.

“How about the same time?”

She nodded.

Holding each other’s gazes, they opened their flip phones and answered their calls.

Immediately, a loud, angry voice rang out, reaching all the way from Lost Harbor to destroy the moment.

“Get home, now,” Zoe’s mother was shouting. “Get away from that boy!”

“What? Why? What are you talking about?”

But her mother sounded nearly out of her mind with rage. “You are never going to spend another second with him. Ever!”

“Wha— You mean Padric?” For a wild moment, she wondered if somehow her mother had been able to see their kiss. The only reason Zoe was allowed to go hiking with Padric was that everyone knew they were friends, not dating. Their kiss could ruin everything.

“That family’s dead to me. All of them. A water taxi’s coming to get you. I want you home in an hour. An hour, you hear me?”

“But why? What’s going on, Mama? Can you at least give me a reason?”

“Ask your father!” After sobbing those last words, her mother hung up the phone.

Heart racing as if she’d just downed an entire urn of coffee, she swiveled to look at Padric, whose phone call was the opposite of hers. He listened quietly, eyebrows drawn together, while someone spoke in level tones on the other end of the line. The contrast summed up the difference between their families.

“Okay,” he said. Just one word, but it sounded so sad and final. He closed his flip phone and put it into the pocket of his cargo pants, every move slow and deliberate, as if he was trying not to get hurt.

“What’s going on? I think my mother just completely lost her mind. She wouldn’t even—”

“We have to go.” He shoved all her things back into her pack—baklava, first-aid kit. “Can you walk with that ice pack on?”

“Sure. I mean, I think.” She stood up, testing her ankle. Not too bad. Not nearly as bad as the fear threading through her heart. “Do you know what’s happening? Is someone hurt?”

“No.” He swallowed hard. His face was pale. The usual dreaminess had vanished from his blue eyes. His mop of brown hair flopped over his forehead where he’d shoved it out of his face. He looked…shell-shocked. “Not exactly.”

“I swear to God, Padric, if you don’t start talking—”

“Your father…and…my mother. They were just…caught together. In…at a hotel.”

At first she couldn’t even grasp his meaning, not even a little bit. What hotel? Lost Harbor didn’t have “hotels.” The town had lots of bed and breakfasts and a couple of inns, and ground had just been broken on a fancy new hotel at the end of the harbor.

She just kept staring at him blankly as he shouldered his backpack.

“They’re having an affair,” he said harshly.

He turned and stalked down the trail toward the beach. She knew he wasn’t angry at her. He was probably trying to hide his emotion. In his family, emotions weren’t indulged the way they were in hers.

“No way.” She limped after him, oblivious to the throbbing in her ankle. “That’s ridiculous. They’re…old. My dad’s like, over forty. His hair is completely gray and he has a heart problem. The twins were just born! It must be a mistake. Padric, wait.”

Finally, he paused and ran back up the path to help her. She saw the fear in his eyes. “I don’t know, Zoe. My father sounded like it was real. He says we’re moving right away.”

“What?”

“He wants to get as far away from here as possible. We’re moving to Florida.”

“Florida?” All of this was too much to take in. The thought of Padric leaving was…surreal. Unbearable. His family roots went back further than most in Lost Harbor. One of the main streets in town was named after his family. Jeffers Drive connected Main Street to Harbor Way. “But you have a street here,” she said stupidly.

“The street will probably stay,” he said.

“Is this funny?”

“No, it’s not fucking funny.” He looked at her in despair. “I’ve never heard my father like that. He was crying. My dad never cries, not even the time he got a fish hook right through his cheek.”

She knew Billy Jeffers well enough to be stunned at the thought of him shedding tears. “Wow.”

They emerged from the forest and reached the pebble beach where they’d left the kayaks. The water taxi was already there, the kayaks already loaded onto it. They both started toward it, but the pilot, Old Crow, held up his hand. “Zoe only. Your father’s coming to get you, Padric.”

They looked at each, and suddenly all their time was gone. This was it—no more. A force bigger than them had swept through their lives and changed everything.

“Zoe…” he said, then shook his head. “I’ll call you.”

“Yeah.” Her throat was so tight she couldn’t say any more, especially not with Old Crow watching. She limped the last few steps down the beach toward the flat-bottomed boat. Old Crow helped her step onboard and closed the hatch behind her. She sat down on the closest bench seat she found and put her backpack on her lap.

Numb, confused, frightened, she watched the beach recede, with Padric standing alone against the backdrop of gray pebbles and soaring spruce. The taste of honey still lingered on her tongue.

Many things changed after that day, among them the fact that she completely lost her taste for baklava. Even the honey-and-walnut aroma of it brought back the shock of that time in the Lost Souls forest. That time when she kissed—and lost—her best friend in the same two-minute span of time.

CHAPTERONE

Present day

Zoe shaded her eyes and craned her neck to get a better look at the man steering the small—but obviously expensive—pleasure craft into the harbor. It sure looked like Padric Jeffers, but the chances of it actually being Padric seemed ridiculously small.

In the past fifteen years, shy, creative, crush-worthy Padric Jeffers had grown into jet-setting, famous, still crush-worthy Padric Jeffers, the superstar singer-songwriter. He would be more likely to cruise into the Monte Carlo harbor with a movie star in the passenger seat.

He hadn’t been back to Alaska in fifteen years, why would he come back now? It made no sense, and yet the closer the boat came, the more the man at the helm looked like Padric.

Then again, her eyes could be fooling her. She wouldn’t be surprised, since it had happened a few times at the pizza shop. So many customers came through over the course of the summer, and inevitably a few blue-eyed, dark-haired men resembled Padric. Even though he’d barely turned fifteen the last time she saw him, she knew exactly what he looked like.

He was hard to avoid, being a superstar singer-songwriter, after all.

Dimly, she realized that everyone else had left. Lucas Holt, Megan Miller, the rest of the “harbor rats,” as the workers who populated the harbor boardwalk called themselves. They’d all gathered on the float to welcome back Lucas and Megan, who had just gotten engaged. And then she’d caught sight of the mystery boat, and she’d completely forgotten everything except possible-Padric.

No—definite-Padric. He must have felt her staring, because he turned his head and met her gaze. Dreamboat eyes, bluer than ever, captured hers.

The effect was electric. They hadn’t looked each other in the eye since that crazy-ass trip across the bay. Just like that, all those emotions came storming back. Confusion, fear, anger—a lightning bolt ripping open her heart.

Astonishingly, Padric didn’t look much different from his fifteen-year-old self. He was taller and broader around the shoulders. Under the watch cap he wore, his jaw was firmer, his face more hollowed out, dark with scruff. His hair, longer than before, peeked from under his hat. The dark blue knit cap emphasized the strong bones of his face and the shine of his blue eyes—the eyes that had doomed so many women to hopeless crushes.

A smile began in the corner of his mouth. Eyes plus smile—now, that was a lethal combo. No way could she stay here and subject herself to that.

Without responding, she whirled around and headed for the ramp that led to the boardwalk.

She had work to do. A pizza shop to run. She had no business mooning around here in the harbor.

At a run, she took the steep ramp at twice her usual speed. Good thing they’d just put in new treads with great traction, or she would have twisted her ankle all over again. A seagull abandoned its snack—someone’s leftover fries—and flapped away as she charged past. A few tourists gave her curious glances as she landed panting on the boardwalk. She still wore her apron, after all. The damn thing was practically part of her by now.

Ignoring their glances, she took a shortcut between Soul Satisfaction Ice Cream and a new fish and chips stand. The boardwalk extended almost the full curve of the harbor, with just about every inch inhabited by businesses catering to fishermen, tourists, or sports fishermen. It had grown organically over the years, so instead of the buildings being lined up in a logical way, they tended to pop up wherever space became available. Occasionally someone added a planter filled with petunias or an old half-barrel with a hardy tree.

The entire boardwalk had a makeshift quality, from the stilts that held up the cantilevered wooden balconies to the ever-changing shape of the beach on the ocean side of the boardwalk. In the winter, storms and fierce winds battered the harbor and only the very hardiest ventured onto the ocean. Most of the businesses shut down—Last Chance Pizza included—and hoped that everything would survive until spring.

She knew every inch of this boardwalk. Her entire adult life had been spent out here. She’d taken over Last Chance Pizza right after high school and never worked anywhere else. After Padric and his family left, the boardwalk and its constant tides of strangers had provided a haven for her.

And now he was back.

WTF?

Why? For how long? Why hadn’t anyone warned her?

For a long time, she’d wondered if everything that happened that day was punishment for them kissing. It had felt so innocent. Just two mouths touching; what was the big deal? But all hell had broken out after that. And even though she knew with her brain that her father and Annie Jeffers had been carrying on an affair for four months—long before the kiss—the timing had really messed her up.

She darted across the road that traveled the length of the harbor, dividing the boardwalk into an ocean and a harbor side. Last Chance Pizza was situated on the ocean side, perched on the boardwalk like an old ship about to set sail. Weathered sage-green paint, white trim and a hand-carved wooden sign hanging from iron chains added to the overall maritime effect. With that prime location, Last Chance offered customers a stunning view of the long sweep of the beach, as well as Misty Bay and, on the other side of the bay, Lost Souls Wilderness.

They often had lines winding down the planks of the boardwalk, to the great annoyance of their neighbors, a native arts craft shop and a fish-cleaning station for the charter boats. But right now, only a few people clustered around the front door—thankfully.

Zoe was rattled. Seriously rattled. She’d stopped assuming that she would ever see Padric Jeffers again. And she’d been okay with that.

This—him reappearing so suddenly—this, she was not okay with.

Her twin sisters, Monica and Alexis, started talking as soon as she pushed through the door.

“Where have you been? You said you’d only be gone a second and we have stuff to do. Like, important stuff.” Monica untied her apron and tossed it on the dishwashing table. She was the dramatic one of the two, although both had their moments.

“Seriously important stuff that we can’t talk about yet,” added Alexis as she punched numbers into the cash register to ring someone up. “It’s about the beach festival.”

The two of them were planning a music festival for Labor Day weekend. They were calling it “Last Chance to Rock.” It was safe to say they’d had no idea how much work it would be.

Zoe hurried to the floury counter where the pizzas were assembled. Several order slips hung from clothespins on a line overhead. “One of you has to stay,” she told the twins. “I can’t take orders and make pizza.”

“But—”

“No sense in arguing about it. It’s simple math.” She scattered sausage over a pie that Monica had abandoned halfway through. “Alexis, you stay, since we don’t have anyone for the counter. Monica, you can handle the incredibly, seriously important thing on your own, right?”

A tragic expression of outrage crossed her sister’s face. “It’s not as fun alone.”

“It’s good for you to do things separately sometimes.”

“Says who?”

“Says your big sister who you should listen to.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Then tell me why it’s such a good thing.”

“Because everyone has to learn how to be alone at some point.” That sounded so dire and lonely that even she winced. “You know what I mean.”

“Zoe, if I ever want lessons in how to be alone, I know where to turn.” Monica’s sassy tone made Zoe itch to fling shredded cheese at her. Instead, she added it to the pizza. After sliding a paddle under the pie, she thrust it into the wood-fired brick oven that her parents had trucked all the way from Rhode Island.

“One of you stays,” she said firmly. Don’t take the bait, that was the trick with the twins. If you got down to their level, all kinds of drama would ensue.

The door opened—the cowbell jangled—and Yanni, one of the fishing old-timers, came in. “Looks like we got a celebrity in the harbor,” he announced as he slid onto one of the stools at the counter.

Most tourists took their pizzas to the glassed-in deck, where they could enjoy the views at tables draped with cheerful anchor-print tablecloths. The locals, on the other hand, had no need for more scenery and preferred the counter, where they could gossip as they waited for their pizza.

Zoe’s body went tense. On autopilot, she continued to build the backlog of pizzas that Monica hadn’t gotten to. Was it possible that the news about Padric had already spread? How?

Monica and Alexis danced with excitement. “Who? Who? Ohmigod, who?” They were always bursting with energy. Sometimes Zoe wished they’d have a morose phase just for some peace and quiet.

“Padric Jeffers is back. Sailed right into the harbor as if he wasn’t a world-famous rock star.”

“Padric Jeffers is here?” Monica clapped a hand over her mouth, and Alexis gave a little shriek.

Then they both swung their gazes toward Zoe, as if waiting for her head to explode. She scowled at them and focused on the pizza she was crafting. They’d been barely more than newborns when Padric had left, but apparently they knew the gossip just like everyone else in Lost Harbor.

“You two seem awfully excited. I didn’t know you liked angst rock.”

“There’s a lot more to him than that,” Alexis corrected her. “Grownups just don’t get it.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “He’s the same age as me.”

“Is he?” Alexis blinked at her innocently. “You seem so much older.”

Zoe pretended to threaten her with a roll of pepperoni. Then something occurred to her. Padric being back—there were complications to that, things she needed to warn the twins about.

“Come over here, you two. I have to talk to you both.” She beckoned to them, creating a cloud of flour in the air, almost like a smoke ring. They clustered into the cooking area, being careful not to get too close to the brick oven, which radiated heat.

“What’s up, Zoe? Aren’t you feeling well?” Monica’s expression was entirely too concerned. If her imp of a sister was assuming she was going to fall apart because Padric was back, she had it all wrong.

“I’m perfectly fine. But Mama cannot find out about Padric. Seriously, not a word. You don’t remember what the Scandal was like. She will flip out if she knows a member of the Jeffers family is here.”

“She’s probably going to hear it from someone,” said Alexis, wide-eyed. “Like at stitch-and-bitch”—referring to a group of local knitters and crocheters.

“No, she’s been skipping stitch-and-bitch. She’s been sticking close to home and we need to make sure she keeps that up until Padric leaves. She cannot find out he’s here. Promise me.”

They nodded, although Monica wore a rebellious frown. “But the Scandal was so long ago.”

“No no no, oh naïve one. Do you know nothing about the Bellini family? Mama is still upset about the British taking all the Greek sculptures out of the Parthenon. Something that happened fifteen years ago? Forget it. That’s like yesterday to her. If she finds out he’s here, it will be the freakout to end all freakouts. She cannot know, or our lives will become miserable. You understand?”

The twins nodded more seriously this time.

“Okay. Go, Monica, do whatever it is you were planning.”

The twins exchanged a cautious look—the kind filled with communications only they could interpret.

“Actually, I’ll stick around. I have a feeling it’s about to get busy.”

“Great.” Zoe beamed at Monica. Maybe her sisters were finally starting to become more responsible.

Alexis went to take an order and Zoe got to work on the next pizza. The normal chatter of a busy lunch crowd took over, and Zoe could almost pretend that everything was back to normal.

Yeah, right. Nothing would be normal until she found out what Padric was doing here and, more importantly, when he’d be gone again.

CHAPTERTWO

Well, that definitely had not gone the way he’d expected. Padric steered the speedboat he’d rented in Aurora Bay into the temporary guest tie-up spot. He’d taken the long way to Lost Harbor—flown into Anchorage, then hired a helicopter to take him to Aurora Bay, then rented the Jaunty for the cruise to Lost Harbor.

Dodging paparazzi could be a full-time job sometimes, but it was worth it. He hadn’t wanted to show up in Lost Harbor like an asshole with cameras trailing behind him. If they tracked him down, so be it, he’d deal with it then. But at least he had a head start.

As his boat nudged up against the float, he caught sight of someone running down the ramp. For a moment, he hoped it was Zoe, changing her mind about that cold shoulder she was giving him. He was here for her, after all.

Of course, she’d had no clue that he was coming. Maybe that explained her strange reaction. He hadn’t expected her to flee at the sight of him.

He also hadn’t expected her to look like…that. Like a stunning goddamn oil painting from Italy or something. She’d always been the kind of girl you couldn’t look away from—or at least he couldn’t. But her features had never quite fit right in her face—eyebrows too dark, nose too big, mouth too full, everything competing for attention. But now it all harmonized perfectly—beautifully.

Zoe was beautiful.

And just as proud as ever, judging by the tilt of her head as she’d watched him cruise in. She wasn’t his awkward best friend anymore. Not awkward, and obviously not his best friend. She hadn’t even smiled at him before she ran up the ramp.

But no, the new arrival wasn’t Zoe coming back to say a proper hello. It was Nate Prudhoe, who reached the slip at a jog just as Padric turned off the engine.

“Nice timing,” Padric told his old friend as he tossed him a line. Nate ran it around the cleat.

“It took exactly thirty seconds for word to get out,” Nate said in his laughing way. “I figured you might need some backup. No entourage, no security, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking Lost Harbor doesn’t give a shit about all that. Besides, who needs an entourage when I have you?”

He stepped off the boat and pulled Nate in for a hug. Padric didn’t believe in man-hugs. With people he cared about, he went for the real thing.

“It’s good to see you, man,” said Nate, pounding his back. Nate was such a good guy—one of the all-around greats, and Padric had met a lot of people in his career. “Do you have bags? Where are you staying? You can crash on my floor if you want. Just like old times.”

“Just one bag.” He hopped back into the boat to grab his travel bag from under the bench. While he was there, he snagged a wide-brimmed fishing hat and his sunglasses. With those two items, he would look like any other visitor to the harbor.

But maybe not, judging by Nate’s crossed arms and out-loud laugh. “You’re not fooling anyone, superstar.”

“You’d be surprised.” Padric shouldered the bag and stepped back onto the float. The familiar harbor smells—fish guts, diesel, salt breeze—took him right back to his earliest days. His father had been a commercial fisherman, mostly salmon but some other varieties. Padric had helped out on the boat from the time he could haul in a net. He hadn’t always loved it; it was boring and often cold and uncomfortable. His favorite part had been the slow times when he could watch the ocean and let images flow through his mind.

With the Jaunty secured, he and Nate walked up the ramp toward the boardwalk, which was much busier than Padric remembered. “How’ve you been, Nate? Haven’t seen you since—where was that?”

“Houston. Great show.”

“Thanks for coming. It was good to see a friend there.” Padric noticed that Nate hadn’t answered the first question. “You still with that girl, um…” The hell if he could remember her name, but the three of them had gone out for drinks after the show. He and Nate had spent the whole evening reminiscing about Lost Harbor, and he’d felt bad for…um…

Nate laughed. “Don’t work too hard on her name. We broke up. But for your records, it’s Mary Lou.”

“Mary Lou. Right. Sorry, dude. You seemed like you had a pretty good thing going.”

Nate shrugged lightly. “Things come and go, know what I mean?”

They reached the busy boardwalk, which was constructed with weathered planks that needed repairs every spring. A fresh white railing extended the entire mile-length of the boardwalk; both he and Nate had spent many hours volunteering with paint brushes every spring. Lost Harbor was an all-hands-on-deck kind of place.

“Business looks pretty good, I’ll say that. I don’t remember this place being so crowded.”

“An article came out a few years ago in Sunset Magazine. They called us a hidden gem. Things haven’t been the same since. Did you catch our Trekking episode a few weeks ago? That brought another wave.”

“Missed that one.” They ambled along the boardwalk, past kids with ice cream cones and tourists taking selfies with picturesque “bear-viewing” storefronts. The knot in Nate’s stomach loosened just a bit. Being back wasn’t…terrible.

“You gotta check it out. Zoe was in it.” Nate shot Padric a curious glance. “Still an off-limits topic?”

“Nah. Actually, she’s the reason I’m here. How’s she doing?”

Nate dodged a kid on a skateboard. “Busy. That pizza place is a gold mine these days. She’s training up her kid sisters to take some of the load off.”

Huh. No mention of any health issues. Maybe Zoe’s condition wasn’t common knowledge yet.

He’d better not reveal anything—it wasn’t his secret to share, after all.

“Do people still talk about…”

“The Scandal? Nah, not really. There’ve been several dozen scandals since then. Occasionally it comes up, because the Jeffers name is all over this town. And because you’re, you know…you.”

Padric cringed a bit inside. As an intrinsically introverted person, the spotlight aspect of being a singer always made him uncomfortable. Yeah, he’d gotten used to it. And it was a small price to pay for making his living as a recording artist. But it didn’t come naturally to him.

“So anyway, you never said where you’re staying.”

“I was thinking I’d try out that candy-ass new hotel they built.”

“New? You mean the one that’s been here fourteen years?”

“New to me. I watched them frame it up that last summer I was here. Always wondered how it would turn out.”

“Overpriced and overhyped. There, I saved you the trouble.” Nate grinned at him.

God, it was good to see him. Nate was a salt-of-the-earth kind of guy. Loyal, solid, unpretentious, funny, good-hearted.

“Well, I figure I’ll pump as much money into the local economy as I can.”

“No one’s going to argue with that.”

A gap between two shingled buildings offered a glimpse of the road and the businesses on the other side. Which happened to include Last Chance Pizza. As usual, a line of customers clustered outside the front door. A chilly breeze cut across the bay, causing them to zip up their fleece jackets and tuck their hands in their pockets.

Padric couldn’t help searching for a glimpse of Zoe. Steam fogged the picture window, with its view of the brick oven and the kitchen area. The painted words “Pizza,” “Salad,” “Wine and beer” got in the way too. But even so, he spotted Zoe’s dark head bent over her work. She wore an orange bandanna that kept her curly hair in a wild pile on top of her head.

Then his view vanished when he tripped over the back wheel of someone’s cruiser bike. He nearly took a header right onto the weathered planks.

“You okay there, man?” Nate grabbed his arm. “Wouldn’t want to you to break a tooth, not to mention ten million teenage hearts.”

“Cute.” Padric regained his balance and adjusted his fishing hat, which had gone askew. “I’m good. Come on, let’s get out of here.” His little mishap had captured the attention of a few onlookers. If they looked too closely, he might be busted.

“Yeah, can’t gawk at Zoe Bellini forever. Let’s book.”

“I wasn’t—” But Nate was already a few steps ahead, charging through the mill of tourists like the first responder he was.

Whatever. Face it, he had been gawking. But who could blame him? Zoe had grown up…just…beyond his imagination, and he had a really good imagination.

They walked the rest of the way to the Eagle’s Nest Resort and Hotel. Apparently the fact that the place had Jacuzzis meant they could call it a resort, because beyond that, it didn’t resemble any of the high-end places Padric had stayed over the years.

The desk clerk didn’t blink at the cash Padric offered for his suite, or at the name he provided. Gavin Strike happened to be his security guy. They had a name-sharing arrangement for those times when Padric wanted maximum anonymity.

It was probably pointless here in Lost Harbor, but in case any paparazzi were trying to pry names out of hotel clerks, he had a small layer of protection.

Nate whistled as they walked into the “Admiral Suite,” which occupied the top ocean-side corner of the four-story complex. “Million-dollar view. Almost as good as mine.”

“Nothing’s as good as yours. But this ain’t bad.”

Nate had bought his parents’ home from them after they’d retired to Arizona. It perched on a high bluff with a literal three-hundred-sixty-degree view.

Padric tossed his bag on the suitcase rack and sank onto one of the couches with a sigh. The suite had two bedrooms and a living area, a kitchenette and its own hot tub out on the balcony. And that view of Lost Souls Wilderness…icy white mountain peaks, deeply forested slopes with shadowed ravines, inlets glimpsed like secrets in the wild.

He wondered if he could spot the Larkspur Trail, the one he and Zoe had started to hike on that fateful day. Maybe it was just past that peak shaped like a perfect cone?

“Okay, dude.” Nate dropped into the couch perpendicular to Padric’s. “Want to tell me why you’re staring at mountains when you’re supposed to be on tour?”

“How do you know my schedule? You stalking me?”

“Don’t fan-shame me. I follow you on Facebook.” Nate’s easy grin reappeared. “I happen to like teenage whiner music.”

Padric clenched his jaw at the insult most frequently flung his way. He’d heard it enough, he ought to be used to it. “It helps people, okay?”

At least he’d thought so—until recently.

“Relax, superstar. I love your music. Like I just said. I might even follow you on Instagram. Not sure because I keep forgetting my password. Anyway, the question still stands. Why aren’t you in Sweden right now?”

“I had a…voice thing. Nodes. Doctor advised a couple weeks of rest, and I couldn’t think of a more restful place than here.”

Nate stretched out his long legs and shot him a skeptical look. “It might be restful for some, but for a member of the Jeffers family? You might be better off at a Calcutta street fair.”

“Oh come on. It was so long ago, and I wasn’t even part of the Scandal. I was just caught in the crossfire.”

“True that. Hey, I’m not complaining, just so you know. I’m glad you’re here. How long do you think you’ll stay?”

“I’m not sure.”

That depended almost entirely on Zoe. If she truly wanted nothing to do with him, he wouldn’t have much reason to stay.

“Are you supposed to rest just your voice or everything?”

Padric squinted at him. “Why? What are you getting at?”

“We’re about to start a round of training for volunteer firefighters. If you’re looking for something to do while you’re here, come on by. Good crew, lots of fun, beers after every training session, and oh yeah, the occasional chance to save lives.”

“Low on recruits?” he asked dryly.

“Always. This town is just too damn small. Anyway, just thought I’d drop that thought. I need to get going, my shift’s about to start.”

“But wait…”

He didn’t want Nate to leave. Right now, Nate was a lifeline connecting him to his Lost Harbor, the real one, the one from his past, the one that didn’t have a fancy resort with double couches and a plastic bouquet on the coffee table.

But Nate had a life that included other things besides playing entourage.

“We’ll have to grab a beer sometime soon,” Padric finished.

“You know it.” Nate gave him a little salute and whisked himself out the door.

And just like that, Padric was alone. Actually alone—with no handlers or managers or publicity people or backup singers or roadies nearby.

CHAPTERTHREE

The quiet settled over Padric like a suffocating blanket.

Nope. He wasn’t ready to be alone. He wasn’t used to it anymore. And now that he was…other thoughts crept into his mind.

Terrible thoughts.

Thoughts he kept trying to bury, but couldn’t. Thoughts about the fucking trend that was spreading like wildfire through his fanbase.

Unable to stop himself, he pulled out his laptop and logged onto his private hotspot. He didn’t trust other networks.

He’d bookmarked several pages where he could find new postings about what they were calling the “PJ parties.”

Cute name for something so gross.

In one forum, someone named Tweenie45 had posted a video of her brand new “PJ.” The raised mark, shaped like the Gothic letters of his logo, glared red against the inside of her arm. It made his own arm throb with sympathetic pain.

“My mom’s about to freak,” she’d written as her caption. “No pain, no gain, amirite? This is for me and Padric, not her or anyone else, so she can suck it.”

Padric made himself look at the mark she’d put on her own skin—a permanent mark, not some kind of tattoo that could be removed when she came to her senses. No, these brands would be there forever. That was the point, according to their thought process. PJ Party 4EvR.

But these were kids. Kids who had taken one damn line from one his songs and twisted it into something he’d never intended.

It wasn’t even a good line! “You brand me with a kiss, your name on my skin, deeper than magic, undone from within.” One crappy line and hundreds of fourteen-to-seventeen-year-olds had decided they had to put brands on their skin.

He’d tried to stop it. At first he’d kept it low-key, simply posting messages on his social media pages.

“Lots of misinformation out there about my song ‘Soul Brand.’ Every phrase in it is purely metaphorical and was never meant to be interpreted literally. I would never want anyone to harm themselves; in fact, I condemn it. If a PJ party exists, it oughta be about love and kindness, not self-harm. Never self-harm.”

When that hadn’t stopped the viral trend from spreading, he’d made an official statement to the press, then done a televised interview. Nothing worked. These kids had convinced themselves that some magical thing was going to happen if they got a PJ brand. The worst part was that they were doing it to themselves or each other. Since no parent would allow it—and no professional studios would do it without parental consent—the kids took things into their own hands.

It was horrifying.

And yeah, he had a mild case of nodes, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. But he had a much bigger case of “what the fuck is happening right now” and “get me the fuck out of here so I can figure out what to do next.” Also, a case of “will I ever sing again without causing someone to hurt themselves?”

That was the worst part. He wrote songs because they ran through his head in wisps and snatches, driving him crazy until he could do the hard work of forming them into actual lyrics. He wrote songs because he loved music and wanted to share the joy.

He did not write songs so a bunch of emo kids could have an excuse to hurt themselves. He’d rather shut up until the end of time. Maybe those nodes knew what they were doing.

He closed his laptop and shoved it aside. So quiet. He used to love the quiet, even crave it. But now…fuck, he was a spoiled asshole too used to his fucking entourage.

He grabbed the binder labelled “Lost Harbor Sights and Adventures” that sat on the coffee table next to the plastic bouquet. Calla lilies—a flower that didn’t even grow in Lost Harbor. Flipping through the pages, he saw flyers for fishing charters—the Jack Hammer,Hooked, Aurora Bay Charters—as well as adventure outfits offering everything from bear-viewing to kayak trips to nature tours. Forget Me Not Nature Tours, that was definitely new.

Reaching the food section, he scanned through menus for Captain Crabbie’s, the Olde Salt Saloon, Tremain’s Fish and Chips, Soul Satisfaction Ice Cream—wow, was that Trixie Tran posing with an ice cream cone? Another local girl who had grown up right.

And then, there it was—Last Chance Pizza.

Family owned and operated for over twenty-five years, Last Chance Pizza brings the mouthwatering flavors of wood-fired pizza and real homemade Italian tomato sauce to your doorstep. Now offering delivery within a mile radius.

Delivery. Now that was an interesting thought. He wouldn’t have to risk being recognized. He could call the shop and maybe hear Zoe’s voice. She probably didn’t deliver the pizza herself, but maybe one of her sisters did. If so, he’d get a chance to find out what was going on with Zoe. And he’d get to taste the best pizza in the world again.

Win-win-win-win-win.

He dialed the number and, sure enough, Zoe answered. Even though she was clearly busy—a din of voices hummed in the background—she came across as unhurried on the phone.

He’d always appreciated Zoe’s refusal to be rushed. She moved at her own pace and no one else’s.

“Last Chance Pizza, can I help you?”

He hesitated. Should he identify himself or not? Would she recognize his voice no matter what? “Hi, Zoe. It’s Padric.”

A frozen moment later, she spoke again. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“I…uh…saw that you offer delivery now. I’d like to order a pizza.”

“What kind? Our menu’s online.”

“That’s okay, I have it here.” He fumbled with the binder. Damn, he couldn’t detect one bit of warmth in her voice—and Zoe was fucking made of warmth. Sometimes it came in the form of fire, but that was good, too. “I’ll take a Greek. Large.”

“That’s enough for at least two people.”

Ha! Was she subtly inquiring as to whether he was alone or not?

“I’ll eat the rest tomorrow. Actually, scratch that. You’re right, I’ll get a medium.” That way he could order another pizza tomorrow. Maybe one for breakfast, another for lunch, then dinner. He’d wear her down with pizza orders.

“Medium Greek. Where are we delivering it to?”

So professional. So cool. Like one of those impossible peaks across the bay.

“To the Eagle’s Nest, the Admiral Suite.” He felt almost embarrassed saying the name.

“Okay then. The Admiral Suite. I guess the Emperor of All He Surveys Suite was already booked?”

Finally, a crack in her armor.

He laughed, a little too heartily. “Yeah, someone’s getting fired for that.”

But that sounded like an asshole thing to say, and it wasn’t even funny. Face it, he was rattled. “Just kidding. No one’s getting fired unless it’s me for cracking a lame-ass joke.”