The Sweetest Thing (20 page)

“Yeah, yeah,” Ford muttered. “Have a good laugh.”

“Already did. I haven’t voted on the new poll yet. I’m weighing some heavy questions. Like do guys still get down on one knee?
And how much should the ring cost?”

Ford flipped him the bird.

“Verbal assault of an officer,” Sawyer said. “I’d arrest you but I don’t feel like doing the paperwork.”

“There’s a stolen rental car,” Ford said. “How about you be a cop and get to that?”

“It’s not stolen. It just showed up.” Sawyer turned to Logan. “You parked in a no-parking zone and it got towed.” He eyed
Logan over the tops of his dark lenses. “The law applies even to celebrities here.”

Logan sighed. “I’m going to need a ride.”

Sawyer looked at Ford.

Oh, Christ. “No.”

“I have to get back to work,” Sawyer said.

“It’s your job to take care of citizens in need,” Ford pointed out.

“Unless I have a call. And I have a call.”

“What, to get donuts?”

Sawyer pointed at him, miming shooting his gun. Then he got back into his squad car and drove off.

Logan looked at Ford.

“Shit.” Ford shoved a hand into his pocket for his keys. “Come on.”

They walked to the lot, where Logan looked at Ford’s classic 1969 Camaro. “You ever race this baby?”

“I keep my racing to the water.”

Logan gave him an evaluating look over the hood. “You any good?”

“Yes.”

“Heard about the gold medals.”

“Then you know I’m good.”

Logan leaned over the roof. “How about letting me drive?”

“Maybe when hell freezes over. And get off the car, man. You lean on your car like that?”

Logan laughed. “I kill people for leaning on my car.”

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are you staying?”

“Well, I
was
at the Beachside Cottages. But when I went to the office to complain about the doorbell ditch this morning, I was unceremoniously
kicked out. Something about last-minute renovations.”

“They can’t really do that.”

“Can and did,” Logan assured him. “I called Tara, and she agreed to put me up.”

Oh, good. His greatest nightmare coming true. “Tara.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, laughter in his voice. “Guess my sabotagers didn’t think that one all the way through. I’ll be staying
at the inn with Tara. Think she still loves to…
cook
?”

Ford knew for a fact that she did, and thinking about it, he found himself driving a little faster, a little tighter than
he normally would have.

“You’re trying to impress me,” Logan said. “It’s okay. I get that a lot.”

Shit. Ford slowed down but it was too late. Logan was grinning. “Do you also get that you’re an ass?” Ford asked.

Logan shrugged, completely unconcerned.

Ford concentrated on not putting the pedal to the metal. “Why are you here again?”

“I let my wife get away from me. We were good together. She traveled with me, made my life bearable, and in return, I took
care of her.”

Ford thought about that for a moment. If Tara had ever needed anyone, those days were long over. She’d grown up, and nothing
about the new version was needy or dependent.

“And you?” Logan asked.

“Me what?” Ford slid him a look. “And be careful, because if you’re about to ask about me and Tara, I’m going to kick your
ass and enjoy it.”

Logan snorted at the empty, hollow threat. Fan-fucking-tastic.

When Ford finally pulled up at the inn, Logan eyed him across the console. “If all you’re looking for is a good time, she
deserves better.”

Ford was surprised he still had back teeth, what with all the grinding he’d been doing. “What I’m looking for is none of your
business.”

“Look, I was the guy that came along in Tara’s life after you screwed her up. And she was damn tough to catch because of it.
But my patience and perseverance paid off, and she married me. So man to man….” Logan gave him a tight smile. “You might
think
you have game with her now, but she isn’t a game. Move onto someone else, Ford.”

“Get out.”

Logan did just that, then leaned in the window. “I’ve heard a lot about you, you know. Hard not to; you’re the only thing
anyone around here wants to talk about. You’re the Good Time Guy, not the Keeper Guy. That’s how I know I’m going to be the
last one standing. And I think you know it, too.”

Ford watched him walk away. It was true that all he and Tara had in common was a mutual desire, which they’d supposedly fulfilled.
And Mia, of course.

Except…

Christ, the
except
. He watched Logan vanish inside the inn, thinking about how much more than desire this was. How he wasn’t feeling much like
just a Good Time Guy.

He was feeling like the Confused Guy, one who wanted so much more than he ever had before.

Tara and Maddie were up at the crack of dawn, standing on the docks watching as, from the very far corner of the bay, Logan
seemed to be struggling with the houseboat.

“Does he look like he’s okay?” Tara asked, peering through the binoculars she’d found in the marina building.

“He has the two-way,” Maddie said. “He’d call for help if he needed it, right?”

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s a guy. He’ll call for help when he’s dead.”

The houseboat had come with the inn and marina as a part of their inheritance. Since this had happened in the dead of winter
six months ago, they’d never had an earlier opportunity to use the boat.

But when Logan had called yesterday needing a place to stay, Tara had grabbed her sisters and cleaned the thing out, and placed
Logan in it.

Better than having him underfoot at the inn.

Chloe came up behind them. “Hey, thought we were doing yoga this morning.”

“I get enough exercise just pushing my luck,” Tara said, still watching the houseboat through the binoculars. Logan was on
the deck, messing with something in the open maintenance closet. She considered calling him, but probably it was his plan
to look helpless so she’d go out there. He used to do that with all the kitchen appliances when they were married.

“Did anyone look through yesterday’s mail yet?” Chloe asked. “I’m waiting for a few checks to come through for the classes
I gave in Tucson last month.”

“No checks, only bills,” Maddie said.

Chloe sighed. “The bills always travel faster than the checks. Why is that?”

Neither Tara nor Maddie had an answer for that. Tara was still looking at the houseboat. Huh. Logan did seem to be genuinely
concerned about something.

“Tell me again why he couldn’t just rent one of our rooms?” Maddie asked, shielding her eyes from the early morning sun. “The
rooms that we actually
want
to rent out? He’s a paying customer.”

“That would have put him too close.”

Maddie glanced at her. “If you don’t want him here, why don’t you ask him to leave?”

“Because he said he wasn’t leaving until he won me back.”

“Is that even possible?”

The “no” was on the tip of her tongue, but she was having some trouble getting it out. She had no intention of starting anything
up with Logan. None. But he’d been her only family for several years, during a time when she didn’t have a lot of others in
her life, and he’d stuck with her until she hadn’t been able to make it work anymore. There were still emotional ties.

“And what about Ford?” Maddie asked.

“What about him?”

“Is he the reason Logan doesn’t have a shot? And don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you look at him. It’s how I look at junk food.”

“We are
way
too busy to discuss this,” Tara said. “We have guests—”

“Who have been out sightseeing in the area and are no trouble at all.” Maddie took in the heavy South in Tara’s voice and
smiled. “You do realize that you don’t scare either me or Chloe anymore with that tone, right?”

“Like I ever scared you.”

Maddie’s smile turned into a grin. “You know what you should do with Ford?”

Tara gave her a droll look. “Drag him up to the attic like you do Jax?”

Maddie blushed. “Hey, we go up there to—”

“I’ll pay you fifty bucks not to finish that sentence,” Tara said fervently.

From behind them came the sound of a soda can being popped open, and they all whirled around.

Ford stood on the deck of his Beneteau, drink in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Breakfast of
champions. He wore a WeatherTech T-shirt, board shorts, and a backward baseball cap with his hair curling out from beneath.
Looking better than anyone should this early, he toasted them with his soda, his eyes never leaving Tara’s. “Morning.”

Maddie gasped. Only she wasn’t looking at Ford, but out at the water. “Do you think Logan’s all right?”

“He’s always all right,” Tara said. “Why?”

“Because he’s waving at us.”

Ford looked out on the water, then swore as he set his soda aside and leaped forward to start the engine on the Beneteau.

“What are you doing?” Tara asked.

“Saving the bastard.” He paused and looked at her hopefully. “Unless it’s okay with you if he dies?”

“
What
?”

“He’s sinking.”

Tara looked. Ford was right. Logan was definitely sinking.

“Oh my God,” Maddie whispered, horrified. “I rented him that boat. Does that make me a murderer?”

Tara’s heart clutched. “He’s not dead yet.”

“Hurry,” Maddie called to Ford. “I can’t be the one who killed Tara’s ex! I look terrible in orange!”

Tara tried to remember if Logan was good in the water. He could drive like the best of the best, but she had no idea about
swimming. She grabbed the two-way radio from Maddie’s hip. “Logan, why aren’t you wearing protection?”

The radio crackled, and then came Logan’s voice. “I have ‘protection’ in my bag,” he said. “But much as I
don’t want to say this, darlin’, now’s not the time to be asking if I’m carrying condoms. I have problems.”

“A life vest, Logan! I’m asking where’s your life vest!”

“Oh,” he said. “I knew that.”

Maddie was yelling at Ford. “Faster! I voted for you, and I want you to win, but not this way, not by killing the ex-husband!”

Tara shook her head in disbelief. “You voted for him? I told you and Chloe not to vote. None of us were going to vote!”

“Actually, this is pretty funny, if you think about it,” Chloe said as Ford sped toward Logan.

Tara gaped at her. “What could possibly be funny about any of this?”

“How about the fact that your two men seem to be spending more time with each other than with you?”

B
y noon, the houseboat had been towed back to the marina, where it was determined that the bilge pump had failed. Logan was
perfectly safe although slightly disgruntled, and settled back at his original beach cottage after a phone call to the owners
from Tara.

The weekend guests were no trouble at all. Chloe had been right. They were in their mid-thirties, on their honeymoon, and
hadn’t noticed a thing about the inn. All they wanted was their bed.

Maddie was set to handle the afternoon and evening, with both Chloe and Mia for backup if needed. Tara had a shift at the
diner, and she was running late. Keys in hand, she came running out of the cottage and nearly toppled over Mia, who sat on
the top step.

Holding the recipe box.

“Hey, Sugar.” Tara pulled up short. “Where did you get that?”

“From Chloe.” Mia opened the box and pulled out the first card, on which Tara had written
For My Daughter
. “She thought I’d like to see it.”

Tara was going to be late for work if she stopped but she knew it didn’t matter. Talking to Mia was worth being bitched at
by Jan—and Jan
would
bitch. Eyeing the wooden step, Tara bit back a sigh. Hiking up her pencil skirt to mid-thigh, she gingerly sat.

Mia pulled her lips in, trying to hide her smile, reminding Tara that in the girl’s eyes, she was not only old but also probably
embarrassing.

“The porch swing would have been more dignified,” Tara told her.

“I like it right here. I can see the world sail by.”

That was true. From here, there was a lovely view of the marina and any ships sailing past it. “Are you interested in sailing?”
Tara asked her. “Because it just so happens, you’re closely related to an expert.”

Mia smiled. “I know. And yeah, I’m interested. Ford said he’d take me real soon.” She pulled out a card and showed it to Tara.
“Never miss a good opportunity to shut up?”

Tara sagged a little and let out a huff of laughter. “It fit at the moment.”

“Chloe?”

Tara looked at Mia and found the girl still smiling, and felt the helpless curve of her own mouth. “Yes. She has a way, doesn’t
she?”

“Yeah.” Mia looked down at the box and was quiet a minute. Normal for her, not normal for Tara. She had
to bite her tongue to keep it from running away with her good sense, to keep from filling the silence. And damn, it was hard
to do, but when Mia finally spoke, it was worth the torturous wait.