Page 13 of Unearthed Dreams (Sable Point #3)

Chapter Twelve

KAI

The July sun beat down mercilessly as I watched another godforsaken small-town parade wind down Main Street.

For the second year, I’d been strong-armed into manning the festival beer tent instead of running my actual bar.

Something about “community spirit” and “civic duty”—as if closing Callaghan’s on what could’ve been my most profitable night of the summer somehow proved my dedication to Sable Point.

The cheap plastic counter of my makeshift bar was already sticky with spilled beer, the surface wobbling every time I wiped it down.

Sweat trickled down my back, and the heavy scents of kettle corn and grilled meat from nearby stands hung thick in the humid air.

At least the kegs were still cold. Small mercies.

Last year, the tent across the way had been Vintage Point Vineyards.

Now, with operations closed down at the vineyard, it’d been replaced with the EdenTree Cidery tent.

Lucky for me, that meant I had the perfect view of a gorgeous five-foot-four, way-too-young-for-me bombshell perched in a folding chair with her Kindle, completely lost in whatever world she’d escaped to.

Her dark hair was piled in a messy bun, wisps curling against her neck in the heat.

She looked cool and comfortable in a flowing sundress while the rest of her family bustled around her like worker bees, setting up their display.

I shouldn’t look. Shouldn’t notice how the hem of her dress rode up slightly when she crossed her legs.

Shouldn’t remember how her breath had hitched when I’d told her exactly how to touch herself that night.

Shouldn’t think about how I’d been avoiding Books and Crannies for weeks, trying to keep my distance before I did something stupid, like kiss her the way I’d wanted to since that first day she’d crashed into me on Main Street.

As if summoned by my thoughts, she looked up.

Our gazes locked. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth.

The simple gesture sent heat coursing through me.

The memory of our last encounter flooded back—her flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, the way she’d squirmed in her seat as I’d described exactly how to make herself come. ..

“Howdy, Kai!”

A grinning face materialized in front of me, breaking the spell.

“Chase.”

Another Everton I hadn’t seen much of lately. His appearances at Callaghan’s had dwindled from daily to barely weekly. If the new doc in town was keeping him out of trouble, I was glad for it.

He looked better—clearer eyes, steadier hands. “I’ll take a beer.”

I grabbed a plastic cup, studying him as I pulled the tap. The foam settled into a perfect head because some skills were muscle memory at this point, festival stand or not.

“Thought maybe you quit. Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

He accepted the beer with an exaggerated wink, but there was something different about him.

The trademark Everton charm was there—the same grin that had talked countless women out of both their drinks and their phone numbers at my bar over the last couple years—but it felt more controlled now. Less desperate.

“Aw, Kai, do you miss me? That’s so sweet.”

I snorted, attacking the sticky counter with my rag. “Hardly.”

The breeze picked up, offering momentary relief from the heat and carrying the mingled aromas of festival food across the grounds.

Chase leaned forward, and suddenly the playboy act vanished.

His eyes, sharp and calculating, darted between me and where his sister sat reading. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Saw your eyes wandering over to the EdenTree tent. Think maybe they oughta stray elsewhere.”

I met his gaze steadily, even as my grip tightened on the rag in my hand. “Just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Bullshit.” Chase’s voice was low, all traces of humor gone. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And the way she looks at you.”

The plastic counter wobbled as he leaned closer. Despite the heat, a chill ran down my spine. I’d seen Chase in every state of drunk over the past two years—happy, sad, belligerent—but this cold sobriety was new. And far more dangerous for a man who was just eye-fucking his sister .

“Nothing’s happening,” I said, which wasn’t technically a lie. Nothing was happening—not anymore. Not since that night when I’d sent her home with instructions that still haunted my dreams.

“Good.” Chase took a long pull from his beer, watching me over the rim. “Keep it that way.”

A group of tourists approached the tent, all loud, vacation-bright shirts and louder laughs. I welcomed the interruption, turning away from Chase to serve them. But as I filled plastic cups with draft beer, I could feel his eyes boring into my back.

When I turned around again, he was still there.

“She’s twenty-two, Kai,” he said, quietly. “Fresh out of college.”

I gritted my teeth. “I’m aware.”

“Are you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re forgetting my baby sister deserves better than being some thirty-year-old’s midlife crisis.”

It was like being slapped with a harsh truth. Charlie had set down her Kindle and was helping Tessa arrange bottles of cider. The sunlight caught her hair, turning the dark strands to mahogany. She smiled at something Tessa said, and my chest ached with wanting her.

Chase was right. She deserved better. Deserved someone young and uncomplicated. Someone who hadn’t spent the last two years drowning in grief and guilt. Someone who wouldn’t taint her with their darkness.

“Message received,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

Chase studied me for a long moment, then nodded.

“Good.” He set his half-empty beer on the counter.

“For what it’s worth, you’re a decent guy, Kai.

Just... not for her.” He turned to leave, then paused.

“Oh, and if you ever tell her about this conversation, I’ll deny it happened.

Can’t have her thinking I’m actually looking out for her, right? ”

The trademark Everton grin was back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. As he walked away, I wondered if this was the real Chase—not just the charming drunk or the protective brother, but something in between. Someone trying to do the right thing, even if it hurt.

I knew something about that.

Forcing myself not to look at the tent again, I grabbed Chase’s abandoned beer and dumped it in the bucket behind the counter.

The crowd was starting to thicken as the parade wrapped up, and I had work to do.

That was what I was good at—working. Keeping busy.

Not thinking about things I’d lost, things I couldn’t have.

Or people.

The sun finally started its descent, offering blessed relief from the heat, when movement at the EdenTree tent caught my eye.

Despite my best efforts to keep my attention anywhere else, I’d been hyperaware of Charlie’s presence all afternoon.

So when she suddenly jumped from her chair, her face lighting up with surprise and joy, my gaze was drawn to her like a magnet.

Three people around her age approached the tent.

The blonde woman looked like she’d stepped straight out of an athleisure catalog, all toned legs and high ponytail, in her sports bra and running shorts.

Next to her was a guy built like a Ken doll.

But it was the third one that made my jaw clench—tall and lanky in dark-wash jeans and Chucks, with wavy dark hair falling across his forehead and bright green eyes visible even from here.

The kind of guy who didn’t even realize how attractive he was, which somehow made it worse.

Charlie threw her arms around each of them.

“Well, don’t you look miserable,” Rosie said, startling my gaze back to where she leaned against the rickety counter of my makeshift bar.

I grunted, continuing to wipe down the sticky surface.

“Shouldn’t you be manning your own station?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “That’s what the minions are for, honey. You should consider getting yourself some for the bar.”

“And risk someone else messing up my system? No thanks.”

“Ah yes, your very particular way of doing things.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Though I notice you’ve been a bit distracted today. Keep looking over at the EdenTree tent.”

“Just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Mmhmm.” Rosie’s knowing smile made me want to crawl under the bar. “I’m sure that’s all it is. Nothing to do with a certain someone sitting over there with her nose in a book.”

“Don’t you have food to serve?” I muttered, suddenly very interested in restocking cups.

“The town’s been good for you, Kai.” The sudden shift in her tone made me look up. Her expression had softened into something almost maternal. “And you’ve been good for it. Even if you don’t see it yet.”

I swallowed hard against the unexpected emotion her words stirred. “Just doing my job. ”

“No, honey. You’re doing a lot more than that.” She straightened, adjusting her apron. “You’re building a life here. Maybe even finding something worth holding onto.”

Her gaze drifted meaningfully toward the EdenTree tent again, and I fought the urge to follow it. To look at Charlie one more time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said stiffly.

Rosie’s laugh was warm and knowing. “Of course you don’t. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She patted my hand. “Some things are worth protecting, even from small-town gossip.”

Before I could respond, she was gone, weaving through the festival crowds with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly where they belonged.

I wondered when exactly this town had wrapped itself around me so completely that even Rosie Kramer was keeping my secrets.

Movement caught my eye and, when I turned in that direction, my heart stumbled.

Charlie tucked her Kindle into her bag, laughing at something the blonde said.

Then the guy in the band t-shirt—who probably hadn’t failed at marriage or gotten anyone killed—placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked away from the tent.

Something hot and ugly twisted in my gut. The plastic cup in my hand crackled as my grip tightened.

That’s good , a voice in my head insisted. That’s what she needs. Someone young and whole. Someone who doesn’t carry around ghosts.

I forced myself to turn away as they disappeared into the crowd, trying to ignore how perfect they looked together—both young and untouched by tragedy.

“Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Henderson materialized beside me, her eyes darting between me and Charlie’s retreating form with entirely too much perception. “You’ve destroyed that cup.”

“Fine,” I muttered, tossing the mangled plastic in the trash. “Just fine.”