Page 7 of Wild Tides
Chapter 4 – Lee
Itried to ignore Violet’s trips from her car to the kitchen. She carried bag after bag up the stairs. Languishing on the couch while she did all the work didn’t feel right, but there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do. My ankle throbbed.
The only good thing that came out of the morning was we’d successfully rescued the couple in the car before I ate it and hurt my ankle. San Juan Island had gorgeous, scenic roads. But part of what made them so beautiful was the view of the water, which meant cliffs. Every year at least a few drivers found out that the turn at the north end of the island meant business.
A Honda Civic went over the rail early this morning, leaving the middle-aged couple dangling precariously over the edge. It’d taken a few hours to set up the winch and rescue the man and woman. Once we’d cleared the civilians, we helped the tow truck hook up to lift the car, and that was when I’d done it. Missed a rock, tripping. My tie-off kept me from pitching over the cliff, but I still sprained my ankle in the fall.
I was disgusted with myself. I wasn’t usually a klutz. There’d be no running for a few weeks until I healed. Between that and having Vi in my space, I didn’t know if I could survive. Already, she was subtly changing my home. Bringing in food, filling the place with delicious smells. I was used to the stark simplicity of my surroundings. It helped me focus. Keep writing. But now? Concentrating with her in the house was nearly impossible.
I wanted to be where she was. Violet had a natural kind of gravity that made the world bend toward her. Some would call it charm. Others might recognize the quiet beauty of the gentle brown eyes behind her glasses, the intelligence clear in the way she listened and asked thoughtful questions. But I knew her real superpower was her kindness. She was naturally friendly in a way I admired but could never replicate. She fabricated conversation out of the slimmest shared moments, and I stumbled in the dark bumbling into black holes. To be near her was to feel her warmth. Bask in it.
I shut down for the day, resting my head against the couch. My ice pack had long melted, but I didn’t want to interrupt whatever Violet was doing upstairs. Soft sounds of her opening and shutting cabinets echoed down the staircase. Music, a local alt-rock station, joined the mix.
She was cooking something up there, but I couldn’t quite name the scents. Garlic for sure. Knowing Vi, butter would feature heavily. The other aromas were more difficult to identify, but they made my stomach growl.
My phone buzzed, and I flipped it over on the coffee table.
Drew: I heard Vi is staying with you.
Joy. Violet’s oldest brother and my search and rescue volunteer colleague usually kept to himself. It made him peaceful to be around. But ever since he’d fallen for Anya, he’d become insufferable. Zach, the younger Fenwick sibling had become similarly annoying in the last few months. One by one,our friends were coupling up, leaving Vi and me the lone singles in our friend group. Even Clay and Lucy, relatively new to our core group, had paired off.
Vi and I had been friends long enough to avoid any overt matchmaking attempts from her friends. Maybe they didn’t think I was romance material.
Drew and Zach were predictably against their baby sister hooking up with anyone. Though I had to wonder when the statute of limitations on their protectiveness would run out. Would they still be running off potential suitors when she was fifty?
We were too old for this shit, but they acted like she couldn’t manage her own life. Ridiculous, since, of the three of them, she was easily the most adult. While Drew ran the family sea salt business, he’d been living at home with his parents and grandmother until recently. And Zach? He was an overgrown kid at heart, living on his sailboat in the harbor.
Violet had established a thriving business in the Salty Pantry. She maintained a real home. At thirty, she was more than capable of making her own decisions without their meddling. But that didn’t stop her brothers from pulling their overprotective schtick on any man who dared sniff around their sister.
The Fenwicks owned enough land and businesses on San Juan that their disapproval would make any man think twice. Hell, I’d been part of the unwelcoming committee more than once. No one was good enough for Violet. Not even me.
She deserved a man who didn’t obsess over plots or see conspiracies around every corner. One who didn’t crave alone time more than the company of friends.
Violet’s footsteps on the stairs sounded loud after my quiet thoughts. I straightened on the couch, wincing as my ankle twinged. First her feet, clad in purple fuzzy socks, appeared,followed by her willowy legs, her yoga pants lovingly echoing every curve of her generous thighs. Finally, the hem of her gray hoodie appeared. She carried two plates, her gaze focused on her feet, her teeth hooked around her bottom lip, her cheeks pink. She’d caught her chestnut hair back in a band, but one long tendril flirted with her jaw.
“Hey,” she said with a soft smile as she approached me. “Ready for a dinner break?”
“I’m done for the day. What did you make?” I asked.
“Butter chicken with rice.”
“It smells amazing.” My stomach rumbled, reinforcing my compliment.
She smiled, setting two plates on the coffee table. “I’ll go back and grab glasses of water. Need anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
She returned a few moments later, and I thanked her again. We dug into our dinners. The chicken was tender and saucy, the rice perfect. I devoured mine. Looking up, I caught Vi staring, a smile tweaking the corner of her mouth.
“Better than grilled cheese, huh?”
“So much better. You spoil me.”
“Anything for the Hero of South Beach,” she teased.
I groaned, scrubbing my hands across my face. “Who came up with that one? It was a team rescue effort.”
Vi chuckled, the low sound sending a rush of warmth through me as she held my gaze. “What’s New, Friday Harboris buzzing. Apparently local volunteer and author Lee Murphy saved the day when it looked like Mrs. Garcia might lose her footing and tumble beyond the reach of the lanyard. Something about a heroic grab that kept her from her imminent demise?”
