Page 37

DIESEL

T he waves lap at my feet as I lie at the edge of the surf, my hat pulled over my eyes.

I have sand everywhere, even in my ears, but I’m good. I haven’t been this good since we abandoned the bar.

Sand rains on my chest.

“You finally got a tan on your white belly,” Merrick says.

More sand lands on me. I shift my hat to peer up at him, the sun searing my vision. “Are you sprinkling me with sand, motherfucker?”

He laughs. “Don’t cuss around the families.” He scoops up another handful and drops it in a clump on my stomach.

I leap to my feet and kick his legs out from under him. He lands in the shallow water. I drag him out, holding his head underwater.

But this is an old game. He twists and locks his knees around my legs, dragging me down with him. I release him to find my footing.

I’ve barely sputtered the water out of my face when Merrick says, “You’re going down,” and knocks me into the surf.

We wrestle underwater for a moment, then both come up, gasping for air.

A voice I’d recognize anywhere says, “We never could take the two of you to a respectable beach.”

I dash the water out of my eyes to look.

“Greta!” Merrick says, racing toward her to drag her into a shirt-soaking hug.

“Merrick!” she shouts through her laughter. “You’re getting me wet.”

Her kid aims a water gun at Merrick, squirting his face. “Let go of my mom!”

“It’s your uncle!” Greta cries.

“And so am I!” I say, lifting him up and turning him upside down.

This time, he laughs and says, “Stop it!” in that tone kids use when they don’t really want you to.

Merrick leans down to Caden’s face. “I don’t think we’ve met, but I’m Uncle Merrick.”

“You are the worst uncle!” Caden squirts Merrick right in the eye even while upside down.

“Nice aim,” I tell him and whip him right-side up. I stick him on my shoulder. “I pick you for my team.”

“Die, everybody, die!” Caden shouts, squirting Merrick and Greta from above until he runs out of water ammo. “Refill, private!”

I lower him to the water so he can reload. “That’s sergeant, to you, civilian!”

Greta pushes her wet hair off her face. “I told him Uncle Merrick and Uncle Dean were in the Army.”

“And now, I am, too!” Caden dunks his water gun under the waves.

Merrick holds up a hand. “And you’re dead meat as soon as we resume action.”

“Not on my watch!” Caden shouts, rolling out of my arms and into the surf as he unloads a stream of ocean water on the rest of us.

“Definitely on my team,” I tell him. That kid has some buzz.

“Sorry if he’s a mess,” Greta says. “ADHD. Jude pretty much gave up on dealing with him.”

“He’s good,” Merrick says. “He’s perfect.”

Greta shifts in the sand, lifting a foot that was slowly sinking. “I haven’t been to the beach in forever.”

I glance at Merrick. I guess it’s time to ask the hard question. “Why are you here?”

She focuses on her dirty toes. “I left Jude.”

Merrick and I share another glance.

“I’ll go hang with Caden,” Merrick says. “You two talk.”

I wring out my drenched hat and gesture up the beach to the towels we set out. Merrick tries to steal Caden’s water gun, and they wrestle into the waves.

Greta settles on a towel, flapping her damp T-shirt so it will dry.

“Did that shitty husband of yours hurt you?” If he did, I’ll kill him.

“No. Nothing like that. He’s just … not there. I don’t know how to explain it. He won’t engage with any of us, and when I try to draw him out, he says it’s our fault his life sucks.”

I flop down on the other towel. “Sounds like he needs help.”

“Tried that. He lies to counselors. Gaslights me. I’m over it.” She draws her knees up to her chest like she needs to protect herself.

I’ll fucking kill him with my bare hands for making her feel this way. “What’s your next move?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t told anyone what’s been going on. I wasn’t out of town a day when Dad calls asking if I’ll come there. Jude already contacted him with some sob story.”

I blow out a long breath. “Are the Pickles taking his side?”

“I don’t know. I can’t face any of them right now.”

“So, you came to us.”

“We all knew about the Leaky Skull after Dad went there. Mom was proud and sent us pictures. Sherman, too. He was chuffed that you traded pickles for booze. Said your place was a definite hit.”

Sure, he did, especially if he had his way. But I don’t give Greta my problems.

“How did you find us? We scorched the earth after Dad and Sherman visited the bar.”

“I had help.”

Really? “Private investigator?”

“No. I can’t afford that at the moment. Jude locked all our accounts when I didn’t come back.”

I sit up. “He did what?”

She shrugs. “I guess he thought I’d drain his money.” Her finger trails through the sand. “I have a secret credit card. Sherman always makes sure the girls have a way out.”

He does? I didn’t know that. “That’s good, at least.”

She draws circles in the sand. “What happened to the bar?”

I wave off her question. “Irrelevant. What do you need us to do? Both Merrick and I have houses if you want to crash at one of them.”

Her head pops up. “You do? That would be so great. Hotels are hard on active kids. Not enough space.”

“Consider it done.”

Her shoulders relax, as if this is a big weight off her. “Did you re-enlist yet?”

“Nah. We were giving ourselves a few weeks before they drag us off.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want to do?”

I lay back. “We need to save up again. The bar is a lost cause. We’re going to have a guy sell our houses for the capital and maybe offload the bar if he can find anyone. It was empty two years before we took it, so we’re not going to hold our breath.”

She nods. “Are you going to say what happened?”

“Just some wrong moves. We’ve learned.”

She waves at Caden, who is shooting his water gun in our direction, even though it barely gets past the waterline. Merrick hauls him up and flings him into deeper water like our dad used to do.

Greta sighs. “We’ve been here five minutes, and you two already relate to him better than Jude has in seven years.”

“Your kid is like us. Not a sniveling man baby like your husband.”

“Hey. He was all right for a long time.”

“I’m already ready to bury him in the woods.”

She pushes on my arm. “Not necessary. And who knows? Maybe this will wake him up, and he’ll change.”

I lie back and lay my hat over my eyes again to avoid the sun. “We don’t change. We just eject anyone who doesn’t like us as we are.”

She lies down next to me. “I ejected myself.”

“Good for you.” I reach out to clasp her hand, something I haven’t done with a family member in a decade. “We’ve got you. Whatever is ours is yours.”

“I think you’ve changed,” Greta says. “Maybe even since the wedding. Was it Symphony?”

I go still at her name. “How do you know her?”

“She was your date at the wedding, you dummy. And, well …”

She trails off in a way that makes me sit up.

“Well, what?”

“She drove us out here.”

I look around. “Is she here?”

“She went to get us some water bottles. We stopped before we got here for drinks and supplies, but Caden went through his before we arrived.”

My mouth goes dry. Symphony is here?

Greta squeezes my hand. “She said that if you didn’t want to see her, she’d leave the water somewhere, and I could go get it. She was the one who told me about the R&R. Of course, I knew what you meant.”

I scan the beach. There’s a hut selling drinks a few hundred yards away.

And I spot her. She sits at a picnic table beside it, looking terribly out of place in a full-on corporate suit, three water bottles in front of her.

I can barely swallow around the lump in my throat.

Her hair is almost white in the sun. She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

I stand up. “I’ll go get them.”

Greta crosses an arm over her face. “I thought you might.”

The shouts of children playing and the roar of the ocean fade away completely as I tromp across the beach, kicking sand in my wake.

I know the moment she looks up and sees me because her mouth falls open. Yeah, I probably look different after two weeks of nonstop sun. My hair is lighter. My skin darker. Plus, we’ve been working out twice a day, getting ready for another tour.

As she grows closer, I take in all the ways she’s changed. Her hair is swept up more elegantly. She has on chunky jewelry. Her neckline is high. The skirt is long. A pair of modest, easy walking heels rest on the bench next to her.

I pause a couple of feet away and gesture to the opposite seat. “This one taken?”

She shakes her head. She’s not as saucy as she was, maybe a touch uncertain. Poised, though. Whatever’s got her wearing this getup has made her more confident. That’s good. I’m glad for her.

I sit down, bracing my forearms on the table. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

She glances around the beach. “There’s lots of eye candy here.”

I get her implication. She thinks I’ve probably banged every babe in a bikini. It hasn’t even crossed my mind.

“The only flavor I’m interested in is yours.”

And there it is again. Like no time has passed. Like nothing has changed. The need for her roars up like I never left.

But I did. And I can see how it’s affected her in the way she clasps her hands together, how her eyes won’t rest on me. They flit away to take in anything else.

She clears her throat. “I’m sorry you got arrested. Is the Leaky Skull really a lost cause?”

“Yeah. We were doomed as soon as we made moves to make improvements. They never wanted us there. They certainly didn’t want us trying to expand, put down roots.”

“You mean the permit department?”

“Mostly. But a lot of the law enforcement see our customers as a scourge.”

“But you see them as they are. Worthy of a place to call theirs.”

“Yeah. That’s about it.”

She lifts her joined fists to her chin to rest her head. “I have a feeling there were some procedural abnormalities in the permit process. I might be able to find someone with the jurisdiction to look into it.”

It’s interesting that she’s offering. “I was thinking it was time to move on.”

“Dean Sawyer Packwood is giving up?” She lifts her eyebrows in a challenge.

“I didn’t say that.” I shift on the bench. Am I? I thought I was being practical.

“Sounds like it to me.” She pushes the water bottles toward me. “Good luck with the Army. Take care of your sister.”

She links her shoes over her fingers and stands up to walk by me, but I don’t miss that sashay in her hips as she passes.

I’m not letting her go. Not now that she’s here.

No fucking way.

I reach for her arm and drag her onto my lap. “How about you tell me what you’re thinking about doing to those assholes in the permit office while I lick all the salt off your body?”

She sucks in a breath. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want to know what our future holds.”

Then I see that look I used to know, flirty and sharp. “I don’t work for free. Ask me again when we’re two orgasms down.”

I feel like I can breathe for the first time in weeks. “That’s my good girl.”