Page 8 of Third Time's the Charm

“Dad’s new brew is ready. He’ll have samples out at the Festivus party.”

Cynthia’s dad, Hamish, aka the Pirate King, lived here all his life. His passion was beer, followed closely by Jimmy Buffet, and then his pet bearded dragon, Larry. After his third motorcycle accident he lost a lot of his mobility and continued to suffer cognitive issues from repeated concussions.

“Can’t wait. Harrison already asked. I think seeing Hamish is half the reason he agreed to Christmas here.” My brother-in-law seemed like your typical trusty nerd, but believe me, looks are deceiving. Harrison is brilliant, sneaky, and loves a good prank.

“How are Paris and Harry?”

“Good.” The last few months were a lot. We lost our beloved Grams and London got married just two weeks ago. “They did so much hosting for the wedding I think they needed to get away and to be waited on for a change. I haven’t hosted Christmas in years. Actually, it might be my first time. Aunt Laura hosted a few times. I might have confused those Christmases.” I tried to remember if London was in those memories or not. I didn’t think she was, which meant it was back in Aunt Laura’s day.

Dang.

Ialwayswent home to Calusa Key for Christmas. It was about time the family came to me!

Suddenly Cynthia shoved a menu in front of my face. “Hide,” she hissed.

I froze.

“I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible friend asking you to sit with me.” Cynthia attempted to shrink even deeper into the late December shadows.

I peeked to the right of the menu and my heart stopped. Not ten feet away, looking happy, relaxed, and holding two beers...was Jack freaking Cassidy.

Fuck.

And even worse? He was taking that second beer to the traitor formerly known as my brother-in-law. “Damn it, Harry.”

“Sorry,” Cynthia whispered again. “Oh good, he’s sitting with his back to us. As long as Harry doesn’t notice, you can slip away.” She pointed in the opposite direction. All I needed to do was find a way to gracefully hop the wood and rope that separated the brewery sitting area from the crushed shell walkway. I could take the path to Fiddlers and then straight home.

I could do this. I was an archaeologist! Sure I spent half my time behind a computer, but the other half of the time I was in the field doing physical things! I was healthy and coordinated and totally not the kind of person who, in a panic, would trip and fall.

So with confidence, and my heart thudding annoyingly loud in my chest, I crouched low and slunk beside the palmetto to the last wood pylon. It was almost out of sight. I couldn’t go low because there were five ropes strung between the pylons to keep birds out (and probably to keep people from doing what I was about to do.) I put my hands on top of the wood and stepped over, glancing back. Harrison was talking. Good. He wouldn’t notice anything. Then I shifted and raised my other foot. I probably got a little too excited because as soon as I thought I was clear, I began moving faster.

Only I wasn’t clear. My heel caught on the rope and I bit the dust. Luckily I fell into the shadows. Cynthia stood up and began moving stuff around on the table as a distraction.

As I slid away I heard Harrison and Jack say hello to Cynthia. It was strange the things Jack’s voice still did to me. The way the hair on my arm rose up, the way my heart fluttered. Luckily all that was physical.PhysicallyI could have reactions to all kinds of people. I could hate them, for instance.

Or I could choose to love them. Like I loved Ryker.

Who I needed to get home to. Right now.

Chapter 2

Might as well put us all in a parka and call it a day

Jack

Fuck, how I missed Christmas on this dumb island. There’s a cheese factor that’s hard not to love. The people here take holidays to the next level. In every way possible. Take the fake snow falling on my head as an example.

“Are the girls old enough to really enjoy this crap now?” I held out my hand and watched as one of the “snowflakes” dropped onto my palm and then burst like a bubble.

Harry stretched his long frame. “Oh yeah. They’re fun. There’s squealing, shrieking, clapping. Lots of bouncing.Lots.”

“Sounds like I should get you ear plugs for Christmas.”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “I wouldn’t turn it down. Sometimes, when I have my noise-cancelling headphones on, I just watch them like an alien experiment.”

Ah yes, I knew the fun of headphones. Try getting the attention of a dozen or so stressed out athletes, all listening to their hype music, on a bus, on the way to a big match. No dice. Not without lights and a disco ball setting.

“Shouldn’t you be like, practicing?”

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