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The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(33)

By:Anna J. Stewart


“Be back by lunch, please,” Paige said. “And be careful!”

Holly and Luke both chuckled at the exaggerated eye roll Charlie gave her mother. “’Bye, Holly. Um, ’bye.” She skittered past Luke so quickly, Holly kept an eye on the little girl and Simon as they jumped on their bikes and rode off.

“Cute kid,” Luke said.

“She’s my new secret weapon,” Holly explained. “Keeps Simon out of trouble.” And helped Holly maintain her sanity. Simon’s attitude and proclivity toward mischief had diminished significantly since the little girl’s arrival.

“Thanks again for advancing me the money so I could get her that bike,” Paige said, but her normally perky attitude had been displaced this morning. “It’s been a lifesaver. You must be Sheriff Saxon.” Paige swiped her hands on her apron before shaking his hand. “Paige Cooper.”

“Another of Holly’s secret weapons?” Luke asked as Holly headed for the shake machine.

“Something like that.” Paige ducked her head. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Holler if you need me.”

“So.” Holly made quick business of the three mocha shakes Luke had requested. “The town meeting last night?”

“You mean Mayor Hamilton’s one-man show?” Luke slid onto the stool Charlie had vacated. “I’m sorry, but I have got to ask. How did Gil get elected?”

“Not with my help,” Holly muttered as she flipped the switch. She leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms. If anyone had told her a week ago she’d be having a normal, civilized conversation with Luke Saxon, she’d have called them crazy. “His opponent was Elliot Daniels. Remember him?”

“Old Mr. Daniels who worked at the library?” Luke’s eyes went wide and his shock made Holly’s lips curl up. “He was ancient twelve years ago.”

“And there’s your answer.” Holly doled out the shakes. “Voter turnout wasn’t exactly stellar, either. Gil’s name is familiar and the town does skew older. I have enough optimism left to think a lot of them wanted to give him a chance to prove he’s not as corrupt as his father.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You’ve met with him a couple of times. What do you think?”

“I think I’m the wrong person to ask about someone’s father.”

“I meant about Gil.” Holly sounded a touch disapproving.

“I’m reserving judgment. For now,” Luke admitted. “Gil and I understand each other and he’s made a few promises I intend to hold him to. We’ll see if he keeps his word.”

She brought the three paper cups over to the counter and slipped them into a carry bag as Luke pulled out his wallet. “Thanks for what you did up at the Flutterby. And for checking Abby’s cabin. I didn’t realize how vulnerable she was out there.”

“A few locks aren’t going to solve everything. But it’s a start. What’s the diner’s special tonight?”

“Meat loaf.”

“Sounds good. Maybe I’ll see you then. Have a good day.”

“Yeah.” Holly slipped the money into the register as he captured Cash’s leash and headed to the police station to deliver Ozzy his shake. Only now, as the diner fell into familiar dead silence, did Holly hear the uneven beating of her heart.

She pressed trembling fingers against her throat. If she set aside the past and focused only on the man whom she’d spent the morning with, she’d have to agree Luke Saxon had grown up for the better. She liked this man. He’d been kind, a little standoffish, as if he expected someone—anyone—to take a swing at him at any time. But they’d managed a few jokes here and there and his sense of humor left her smiling even now. By the time they’d returned to the diner, she’d started to think maybe Luke was a rare exception to her cemented belief people couldn’t change.

But there wasn’t any leaving the past alone. Not when it had cost her so much. Holly caught her lower lip between her teeth.

Or was there?

* * *

“WHAT’S BEEN GOING ON?” Luke slid into the passenger seat of Fletch’s SUV and looked kitty-corner across the street to the dilapidated, pathetic community center. The maroon siding was peeling and most of the panes of glass had been busted out. The weathered roof looked about ready to collapse and there was a colorful explosion of graffiti and paint splatters along the front door and wall. Luke remembered when the center had been built, the sponsored activities from computer lessons for seniors, to woodworking classes, and book club meetings. He’d considered the center as a possible oasis, someplace where he’d be safe and could always go...except he’d never seized the courage to step inside.