Page 12 of Hidden Harbor (Evergreen Rescue #1)

“ Y ou look like hell.”

I yawned. Zach wasn’t wrong. The last few weeks I hadn’t just been burning the candle at both ends, I’d set the whole fucking house on fire. Between working on the farm and helping Zach at Harbor Brews before and after work, it felt like a victory just to be upright.

“Thanks.”

“Not that I mind all the extra help, but I think it’s time you find something else to do with your evenings.” He gestured to the book in my hands. “At this rate, I’m not going to have any inventory left for customers.”

I set down the latest of Lee’s novels on the side table next to my chair, hiding a smile when Zach’s nose wrinkled. He hated it when I cracked the spines. Harbor Brews was technically closed for the night, but I’d taken to reading late before stumbling home to crash on Vi’s couch.

“Consider the books payment for all the evenings I covered last week so you could go sailing with Rae.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it. The weather’s been too good to be stuck inside, but you’re killing yourself.” He held my gaze. “Would it really be that bad if you spent just one evening at Vi and Anya’s?”

Only pure stubbornness had kept me away this long. Gran and I had that in common. I thought if she learned I was couch-surfing with Vi and working every waking hour at Harbor Brews, she’d relent. At least until the busy season ended, and I could find a real rental option and move out for good.

Sleeping in such close proximity to Anya was torture.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful there for a change? Make them your famous chili?” Zach suggested.

He was just trying to get rid of me. But his idea wasn’t half-bad. I owed Vi and Anya dinner for putting up with me.

“Tomorrow,” I promised.

Vi: We’re going to bed. You coming home soon or should I lock up?

By tacit agreement, Vi let me know when she and Anya were done in the living room for the night. Maybe she sensed the tension every time she brought up Anya’s name. I was doing my best to live up to my word. If avoiding time alone with Anya made me a coward, so be it.

Drew: Be there in 5.

“That’s my cue. ‘Night.”

Zach shook his head slowly from side to side, the shadow of something that might have been pity in brown eyes the same shade as my own.

I held back a gentle snort. He should save those sorry eyes for himself.

He lived next door to a woman who was perfect for him.

And in a long-distance relationship with someone else.

My pace heading up the hill to Vi and Anya’s was slower than usual, weariness dragging at my feet. Vi’s couch wasn’t the most comfortable to begin with. Sleeping on it was no picnic. I was nearly desperate enough to make a post on What’s New, Friday Harbor and hope a local would take pity on me.

My own efforts to find a rental kept hitting snags.

You’d think after living my whole damn life on the island, I’d make the ideal tenant, but the one rental application I put in was denied.

Probably because our neighbor and Gran’s on-again off-again arch nemesis owned the property.

If her goal was to get me out from underfoot so she could play naked games with the old coot, I thought he could do his part by letting me lease his old house on the outskirts of town.

But apparently, he didn’t want a Fenwick living on his land.

Vi looked up from the couch as I took off my shoes at the back door, flipping the lock. “Hey. You look beat.” She yawned. “I’m going to turn in.”

“Thanks, Vi. I’m grateful you’ve let me stay.”

She wrinkled her nose. “To be honest, if I didn’t see you before bed, I wouldn’t believe you really are staying here. You know you could spend an evening with us, right? You don’t have to banish yourself to Harbor Brews or wherever you go every night.”

“I know. I’m helping Zach. This is for the best.”

She arched one brow. “Really? Are you helping Zach, or are you keeping Isa from enough hours to buy the car she’s had her eye on?”

I grimaced. I hadn’t thought about how volunteering at Harbor Brews might be impacting Zach’s other staff.

My shoulders slumped. No matter what I did, it was the wrong thing.

Hang out here and risk crossing the line with Anya, or try to make myself useful at Harbor Brews, and Isa doesn’t get all of her hours.

“Have dinner with us tomorrow.” Vi smirked. “Consider it part of the rent you’re not paying me.”

I shot her the bird. She flipped me two in return, backing out of the living room with both brows raised.

“Later, Freeloader.”

My siblings’ not-so-subtle urging to change course notwithstanding, they had a point. I needed to find some kind of middle ground with Anya. Something between total avoidance and hanging on her every word.

I brushed my teeth and pulled on my sleep pants, spreading the sheets and blankets across the couch in minutes. The lump in the second cushion welcomed me like an old friend, reminding me not to get too comfortable.

Straining to hear anything beyond the usual night sounds, my eyes gritty from lack of sleep, I slowly succumbed to the awkward peace I’d found on Vi’s sofa.

It wasn’t exactly home or comfortable, but it did let me ensure that she and Anya stayed safe. There was more than a flimsy lock keeping the world out. There was me.

***

A bird chirping woke me from the first sound slumber I had all week.

“Fuuuuuck.” The bird meant I was late. I usually tried to be out of the house by dawn. It had been a grueling few weeks, but worth it to keep my promise.

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“Shit,” I bit out. I didn’t mean for Anya to hear that. Didn’t mean for anyone to hear it.

“Here.” She plunked a cup of coffee on the table beside the couch, the motion jerky. Like she was mad. Because I’d overstayed my welcome?

“Sorry,” I rumbled, my voice still scratchy with sleep. “Didn’t mean to still be here.”

She huffed and turned on her heel, flouncing toward the kitchen.

I sat up, gulping coffee, still groggy from my too-short night on the couch.

Anya moved around the kitchen, dressed for work in black leggings and a pink tunic-length workout tank that left her toned arms bare.

Each move was efficient as she pulled half-and-half from the fridge and doctored her own cup of coffee.

Brooding on the couch wouldn’t get me out of her hair. I clutched my mug to my chest and sidled into the kitchen with my duffel bag over one shoulder.

“Okay if I use the bathroom?” I asked, wary of her mood. “I’m sorry about earlier. Wasn’t quite awake yet. I’ve been trying to get up early so I stay out of your way.”

“I noticed.” Her face scrunched up in a cute frown. Like I’d offended her. Not my intention.

“How about I make it up to you? I’ll cook for you and Vi tonight.”

She looked up from her toast, her expression curious.

“You cook?” Her gaze seemed to get stuck somewhere south of my neck, and I bit back a smile.

Maybe I should have pulled on a tee shirt before approaching her in the kitchen.

It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do.

Fatigue was messing with my head. Making me take risks.

“Not as well as you and Vi, but I get by.”

She dragged her eyes back up to mine. “Okay.”

Since my version of “good morning” had been a string of curses, I took her cautious acceptance as a win.

“I’m gonna get dressed and get to work. Text me if you need anything from the store. I’ll plan to swing by before dinner.”

Her second “okay” was more cheerful, more herself. Like maybe I’d wormed my way back into her good graces.

“Have a good day, honey.”