LITMIR.BIZ

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seen her, looking stiff as steel, poured into the tailored business suit that was ridiculously overdressed for the humid tropical climate, he’d been unable to listen to his own good advice.

       Seeing the woman made it difficult to remember the girl.

       She hadn’t always been chipped from granite like she was now. Hell, he didn’t think she remembered that fact or if she did, she didn’t much like to be reminded. Maybe that’s why they’d always rubbed each other wrong. He knew a few of her secrets, even if she pretended otherwise. He remembered a girl with tears on her face, struggling to hold it together for her sisters’ sake on the day of her mother’s funeral. Lindsey and Lilah had been looking to her for strength and she was determined to give it to them, even if she’d had nothing left for herself.

       He remembered laughter between two kids, running along the surf, and eating fresh coconut when they were hungry. He also remembered the way she’d looked at him, as if he were the funniest, brightest, most awesome boy alive. He remembered a basket of food when he’d been most certainly about to starve.

       That’s how he remembered Lora Bell. And damn it, that might’ve been the moment he lost a tiny piece of his heart to her, too.

       Sometimes he wondered if he’d imagined all of it.

       The woman she’d become wasn’t even a shadow of the girl she’d been.

       Everything changed when he’d returned to the island after a year of being gone.

       Suddenly, he’d become just the boy who did odd jobs for Pops, the unwelcome presence at the dinner table on some nights, or the lanky teen who’d burned with humiliation as Lora dismissed him as any kind of romantic possibility.

       He was ashamed to admit there was some small part of him that hoped he’d see a remnant of the girl she’d been so long ago even though it’d been years since she’d put in an appearance. He was an idiot for hoping—he knew—but buried deep, that hope still flickered, even if it was a very dim ember.

       “You know if you weren’t so damn difficult all the time, people might have an easier time liking you,” he bit out in spite of himself.

       “You suffer under the mistaken assumption the opinions of others matter to me,” she replied simply. “I couldn’t care less what other people think of me. You’ve known me long enough, surely you remember that about me.”

       He gritted his teeth. “I also remember you being a bit nicer at one time.”

       She seemed momentarily shaken by his admission, as if they’d both quietly agreed to never talk about the times before he left for St. Thomas for a year, and within a heartbeat she’d stuffed away any hint of discomfort or raw feeling.

       “Your memory is flawed.”

       “Maybe,” he acknowledged with a shrug. “But doubtful. However, why you would take pride in being so difficult, I don’t understand. You know, you catch more bees with honey than vinegar and spreading a little goodwill might be helpful considering you haven’t been on the island for some time. You never know where you might need help.”

       She leveled a short look his way. “Thanks for the advice I didn’t ask for. I take pride in being efficient. If you consider that being difficult, then so be it. As far as needing goodwill…I don’t see how that applies. I’m here to solve a problem, not run for mayor.”

       Ah, hell. Why did he even try? She was a lost cause. “Fine. Whatever. Just trying to help.”

       “Your help would’ve been useful before I was required to hop a plane and put my life on hold,” she said evenly, staring straight ahead, though her grip tightened ever so slightly on the roof handle, betraying something. Heath couldn’t be sure if his comment had struck a nerve or she just really had to pee and she wished he would drive faster.

       “Yeah, well, I guess if you were more efficient about getting your messages, we might not be in this mess now.”

       He expected a cutting retort but she remained silent. Whether she secretly agreed with him or she simply had run out of steam to argue, he didn’t know.

       One thing was for sure, he was pretty certain whatever had been lodged in his heart for all those years was dead and gone. Now he was just here for Pops. He loved the old man and would do whatever was necessary to help him—including putting up with Lora.

       Lilah had tried to mop up the mess but she’d been out of her element and completely clueless as to how to keep a resort running while her beloved Pops held imaginary conversations with her long-dead Grams. Actually, he felt kinda bad for the kid. Lora had put her in a bad spot and now was ready to crucify Lilah for failing.

       Time for damage control. If there was a way he could reel back the words he’d carelessly uttered, he’d do it. Barring that, he needed to focus attention on what mattered.

       “Listen, here’s the deal. Pops loses time. One minute he’s totally fine and acting like the Pops I’ve known since I was a kid but then he slips and he’s not in the here and now.”

       “What does that mean?” she asked.

       “It means sometimes he thinks Grams is still alive,” he answered grimly.

       Lora exhaled softly, shocked by his admission. He knew how close Lora and Grams had been. Losing her had been nearly as tough as when she’d lost her mother. When she spoke again, her voice was strong, betraying nothing of whatever she was feeling inside, leaving him to wonder if she had a shred of humanity left in her. “Well, we’ll just have to remind him of reality. Grams died ten years ago. We can’t let him marinate in fantasy. That can’t be healthy.”

       “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s better than watching him lose her over and over again. When you tell him that Grams is gone, it’s as if she’s just died.”

       “Oh,” she breathed, and this time her voice softened and real distress was etched on her face. He found that a good sign. Maybe there was hope for her yet. “What can we do for him? Is there medication he can take? What does the doctor say?”

       “Well, if you’d come when I first started calling…you’d know.”

       She pressed a delicate finger to her temple and waved him off. “Yes, yes, I’m the big bad bitch and my sisters are irresponsible twits. We’ve already sufficiently covered that topic. Time to move on before my head explodes. Something in the air is making my sinuses riot. Do you have any allergy medication at the resort?”

       He was tempted to say no, but he wasn’t that big of a jerk. “Yeah,” he said.

       “Oh, good,” she said, relieved, closing her eyes. “I propose we postpone this episode of the I Hate Lora Bell Show until I’ve had a chance to stop this pounding in my head. I have enough to deal with as it is, I don’t need sparring with you added to the list just yet. I’ll keep quiet, if you will. Deal?”

       “Fine by me,” he muttered, pissed that she was ending what he hadn’t planned on starting in the first place. “Welcome home.”

       Good as her word, she buttoned her lip, content to finish the drive in silence, although his mind stubbornly continued to hit him with what was to come.

       No doubt she thought she’d make whatever fixes she figured were necessary and then jump on the next ferry out of here. She was going to discover, quite quickly, it wouldn’t be that simple.

       If only she’d shown up sooner…maybe things might’ve been put right more easily.

       Now? It’d be a miracle if Larimar wasn’t sold out from underneath their feet.

       And if that happened? It would surely send Pops toppling over the ledge of sanity and into the land of no return.

       He hoped Lora couldn’t live with that on her conscience.

       But risking a glance at the woman seeming to drowse in the island heat, he couldn’t help but fear that a conscience was the first

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