Page 1 of Wild Tides
Chapter 1 – Violet
Apit opened in my stomach when I saw Lee’s name on my caller ID.
“Hello,” I said cautiously. If this wasn’t a butt dial, something was seriously wrong. I wasn’t sure Lee even knew his phone couldmakephone calls.
“Vi, don’t panic.”
Easy for him to say. Lee had ice in his veins. No one could write the books he did with a weak stomach. I was the marshmallow in our friendship. And when in the history of ever had the phrase “don’t panic” worked? It was code for “brace yourself for bad news.”
“Lee, what is it?”
“I need a ride home from the ER.”
My fingers clenched around my phone. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” His tone was firm, but that didn’t stop the storm of anxiety from gripping my ribs and twisting. “I busted my ankle, so I’m on crutches and can’t drive myself. Can you come get me?”
Relief tumbled through me so fast, it made me dizzy. “I’ll be there in ten.” The shop was dead today, anyway. I’d sold out my morning pastries but hadn’t seen a soul since nine-thirty.
I flipped the sign in my window at The Salty Pantry to “closed” and drove to our island’s tiny medical center. Two stories and about the size of an off-island grocery store, at least it still boasted the basics in emergency care.
Lee perched on crutches at the front door, scowling at his leg. Other than the walking boot and crutches, he looked like his cantankerous self. His dark hair was shaggy and needed a cut. The shadow of a beard emphasized his strong jaw. Clad in a navy San Juan Island Fire Rescue Volunteer shirt and cargo pants, he looked officially pissed off.
He awkwardly maneuvered to my car as I swooped around the hood, holding the passenger door open. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, sparing a quick smile for me.
That rare flash of lips and teeth unspooled the tension in my chest. Lee Murphy’s smile was dangerous—reckless, even. Maybe that was why he rationed them like I rationed chocolate around my period.
Watching him struggle to fold himself into my front seat without knocking his right leg around made me wince. I knew better than to offer more help.
“I’ll put the crutches in the back.” I slid into the driver’s seat after stowing them. Lee was quiet at the best of times. Today, the skin around his eyes was tight, and he was paler than usual.
“What happened?”
His grumbled response was too low for me to hear. But with three older brothers, I knew how to speak wounded male.
“Lee.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. “The author in me hates that my story is so lame.”
I arched a brow. Again, three brothers. I could wait him out. And he knew it.
He huffed. “Fine. We got called out, a vehicle went off the road near Pear Point. I was helping rig the tow cables and tripped on a rock.”
He looked so morose, it was hard not to laugh at his hangdog expression. He was still plenty heroic –Ihadn’t been out with Search and Rescue this morning. The way he downplayed his importance and the selflessness it took to volunteer in dangerous situations bothered me, but arguing with him would be useless. Lee Murphy could be more stubborn than my Gran when he wanted to be. And anyone who’d fetched her from the sheriff’s office after her fifth streaking offense recognized debating him was a lost cause.
“I hope you gave that rock hell,” I said instead. “How long will you be in the boot for?”
His irritated grumble shouldn’t have been cute. “Three weeks,” he finally said louder.
He’dhatethat. And I couldn’t blame him. Even if he could still work, he couldn’t run. Always a little grumpy, he was about to becomeunbearablewithout the ability to lace up his shoes and clear his head. Which made my next offer friendship suicide.
“Where to?” I asked. Maybe he’d already made other plans.
“Home, I guess.” Glumly, he stared down at his leg.
There was no way that’d work.
“You’ve got a lot of stairs at your place. Do you want to crash at mine? Now that Anya has moved out, I’ve got space for a new roommate.”
