Shy Girl Page 7

  A moment of surprise registered in Helene’s honey-colored eyes, then she smiled. “Thank you for coming! It’s Dagny, right? We’re so excited to have you.” Her gaze darted to mine with another warm grin. “It’s been far too long since Hernandez extracted himself from his deputy cruiser to come and play with us.”

  I wrapped Helene in a warm hug that earned a glare from Grady two seconds before he pulled her back.

  “Long enough,” he muttered with a growl of warning. I laughed.

  “Please, ignore my caveman fiancé and come inside.” Helene gestured to the bungalow with a wave. “I’m sorry we don’t have separate living spaces for you. Most of my family has taken up the hotel because Grady’s family preferred the bungalows. This one does have two rooms and a common area. I hope that’s okay?”

  Fine by me, I wanted to say, but let Dagny respond first.

  “Yes, of c-course. Th-thank you.”

  Helene smiled and drew Dagny farther into the open room, which had a kitchen on the right. She left me and Grady behind. Grady stopped and glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. I set Dagny’s bag aside.

  “I like her.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’ve said five words to her. And it doesn't matter anyway,” I added. “She's just helping me out because of Victoria.”

  He shrugged. “I like her. It’s weird to see her here, though, of all places. And with someone so far below her league it isn’t even funny. Does she still work at the Diner?”

  Grady and his family left Pineville as soon as he graduated high school, and only returned when Vik and I pulled him back with a new, treacherous alpine climb or a white water rafting trip during the summer. For him to know anything about Pineville startled me.

  “Not anymore,” I said.

  He shook his head. “She’s grown up a lot.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Grady tilted his head toward her. “Dagny Taylor, right? She went to school with us.”

  “Shut up.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Man, you have always been so blind. She was younger, but definitely in high school. I remember her stutter. She didn’t say much. I think we took auto tech together.”

  Dagny taking auto didn’t surprise me much. The wooden pallet furniture made it clear she was a woman that loved to piece things together and work with her hands. But Grady knowing her from school threw me for a loop. He couldn’t be serious. If Dagny went to school with us, I would have remembered.

  Or . . . maybe not.

  Bonehead was the best description for me during that time of my life. Her amused response to Grady’s mother setting me up with every bridesmaid on the island suddenly made a lot more sense. Plus, Grady had a mind like a steel trap. If he remembered her, then so it was.

  Weird.

  All this time, Dagny had known me better than I knew her. Something about that made me uneasy. What had I missed all these years? Dagny had been around . . . always. How had I not noticed her?

  Grady clapped me on the shoulder. “Now that you’ve thoroughly embarrassed yourself, I can’t wait to hear how it goes when you confess you didn’t remember her. Hey, did you see Victoria yet?”

  “No.”

  He clucked. “Good luck, man. She’s on the prowl.”

  “For me?”

  His eyes widened. “For a man. Her date ditched and she doesn't like being anywhere alone.” He glanced to his watch, sighed, and called, “Hey baby. We better get going. We have to meet up with the coordinator about the dinner, remember?”

  Helene turned, the picture of grace, and stepped up to his side with a smile so warm I would have assumed they’d been separated for weeks. Grady put an arm around her waist, and, watching the two of them, I couldn’t remember why Vikram protested relationships so much.

  “See you in an hour?” Helene asked me.

  I nodded. “We’ll be there.”

  “Right on the beach.” Grady stepped back, his fingers entwined with Helene’s. “Open seating and bar, so we’ll see you there. Oh, and take a shower, dude. You stink.”

  Any news of Victoria shook me up, but knowing she was on the hunt made it even worse.

  In my very fortunate life, I’d survived avalanches, cliff jumping, and a really stupid stunt where I rode a crappy old rug down a church steeple, but I’d also been a deputy for almost ten years. Despite all that life experience, Victoria still scared the crap out of me.

  There was something unnerving about the subterfuge that lay behind her thick veneer of courtesy and sincerity. Really, she wasn’t sincere. But somehow, she managed to make herself feel sincere.

  Once Helene and Grady left, I sniffed my shirt. Did I really stink? Probably. Planes never smelled good. The fresh air blowing in distracted me from thoughts of a shower, however. When I looked up to see Dagny standing at the edge of the balcony, everything disappeared from my brain except for her. She had a way of doing that. Whether it was the casual way her body leaned into the wind, the delighted smile on her face, or the quiet way she seemed to watch everything. Her brown hair fluttered behind her again, and I had to crush another wave of attraction. It drew my thoughts back to what Grady said.

  How could I have not noticed her in high school?

  Beyond her glittered the sapphire ocean, ringed in turquoise around a perfect beach that called to me.

  Forget the shower.

  Dagny and I needed to talk.

  Dagny glanced over with a warm smile when I stepped up next to her, careful to keep a foot of distance between us. When her gaze returned to the ocean, I noticed a line in her forehead that hadn’t been there before. She seemed . . . distracted. Maybe just deep in thought. For several minutes, we stood in the breeze off the water and I tried to imagine another time when I’d seen something so perfectly calm.

  “So,” I drawled. “You went to high school with us?”

  Her lips twitched with a suppressed smile, but she didn’t look my way. “Y-you’re just remembering?”

  I snorted. “No. I don’t remember you at all.”

  She laughed. “I w-wasn’t exactly memorable. N-not compared to the Merry Idiots.”

  I almost choked. There had been a small hope that she hadn't known me as a Merry Idiot, but that was a long shot anyway. Man, were we knuckleheads in high school if someone like Dagny knew about us. My thoughts traveled to our legendary C-tape with a little shudder. Once upon a time, I'd been exorbitantly proud of it. Now? The jury was still out.

  Hopefully she never saw that.

  “You couldn’t have been a senior with me,” I said as I dove deeper into my memories and tried to find her there. “I would remember that. I think.”

  “F-f-freshman.” Her gaze drifted to mine for a second and then back. Whatever trouble had occluded her gaze from before had now cleared, like a storm blowing out of the sky. “You have no r-r-reason to remember me. G-grady remembered me, I im-magine?”

  “Yeah.”

  Even though she’d exonerated my name from not remembering her, I still felt sheepish. Our high school educated kids from both little Pineville and the slightly-bigger-but-not-that-much-bigger Jackson City. Mountain towns weren’t exactly population centers. Our school map covered so many miles it could take over an hour to drive to another kid’s house. Plus, I had a feeling Dagny had always lived quietly.

  “Auto t-t-tech?” she asked. “D-did he remember me from a-auto?”

  I nodded. She laughed and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. Whether it was the bright sunshine, the diamond-like sparkle of the water, or just the shedding of stress and life that came with vacation, she seemed like a whole new person here. Glowing, in fact.

  Damn beautiful, too.

  For a moment, I tried to picture her in the Diner and the Frolicking Moose, with her casual bun held up by pens and the jeans that dragged a little by her heels, as if she didn’t want to bother with cutting them. Such a relaxed picture, transposed against such rampant island beauty, still seemed just as h
onest.

  In other words, Dagny could fit anywhere.

  “Yeah,” I croaked. “Auto.”

  She laughed harder. “One d-d-day, Grady smashed his f-fingers in the hood of a C-corvette.” Her words turned into a giggle, then a rolling laugh. “H-he squealed a-a-and another kid d-dropped an oil pan. Our teacher s-slipped on the oil and h-hit his head j-just as the principal walked in. W-would have b-been okay, except he said the F word in f-f-front of all of us and the p-p-principal.”

  Tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes as she kept laughing. The infectious sound caught me, and I chuckled with the thought of Grady’s high-pitched squeal. Same one he’d let out when we bought a crab from the grocery store deli and he let it bite his nipple on a dare.

  “I know the exact squeal,” I said.

  She wiped off the tears and her laugh slowed. “It w-was unf-f-forgettable.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I turned to lean my back against the railing. “All this time we’ve seen each other in Pineville and you never mentioned it.”

  My pride was far too macho to admit it, but I felt a bit put-out that she’d keep such a detail quiet. Why didn't she mention it before? That kind of detail connected people, and maybe if I’d connected with Dagny sooner, I wouldn’t feel so rummy over her now.

  Dagny’s smile widened even as a hint of a blush rose to her cheeks.

  “You n-never asked.”

  At that, I laughed. “You’re right. I should have started a conversation with, ‘Hey, just want to clear up the off chance that we ever went to high school together?’”

  Her laugh bubbled back up again, a clear song against the backdrop of waves. “Exactly. Th-this is all y-your fault.”

  “I take full responsibility.”

  Her amusement faded slightly. She leaned both hands on the railings, let out a long breath, and smiled at nothing. When the breeze stroked her cheeks, she closed her eyes and let her hair dance around her face.

  I looked away and cleared my throat.

  “So, what did you think of Helene?” I asked.

  The muscles along the back of her neck tightened a little, but released when she let out a long breath. Her voice was bright. Perhaps a little too bright.

  “V-very sweet.”

  “This is only my second time meeting her,” I said, “but she’s always left a good impression whenever she catches me on the phone or a video chat with Grady. Grady loves her, which is saying something.”

  “I-I had no trouble s-speaking to her.”

  “Do you struggle speaking to people?”

  She tilted her head to the side, then nodded. “Y-yeah. If I’m n-nervous or tense it gets worse. B-but it’s not as bad w-when I’m w-with people I’m c-comfortable with.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  A calm stretch of silence fell between us next. After the rush of airports, plane switches, and trying not to think too far ahead to worry over Victoria, the quiet was a balm. Dagny leaned forward, her head canted slightly to the side.

  “Th-thank you for b-bringing me. Even if th-this is all I s-s-saw, it would be worth it.”

  My thoughts drifted to Victoria for just a moment, then I forced it away. Victoria looked like a black hole compared to Dagny’s natural luminescence. Between them, there was no competition.

  “I owe you big time for coming,” I said wryly. “And don't get too ahead of yourself yet. The fun has just begun.”

  My tone must have given me away because she turned to look at me in concern. “V-victoria?”

  “She’ll be at the dinner tonight. Grady said her date stood her up and she's on the prowl for another one. She doesn't strike me as the type that likes being thwarted.”

  Dagny smiled with one side of her lips. “Th-that’s f-fine.” She held out a hand, fingers splayed. I hesitated only a moment, then slipped my hand in hers. “W-we’ll f-face her together.”

  My fingers squeezed hers. Victoria might make an appearance at the dinner, but that didn’t mean I had to talk to her. For now, I was content to avoid Victoria, and enjoy Dagny.

  To me, that was the best plan yet.

  “Then let’s get ready,” I said with a little smile and wondered if she heard my relief. “That island barbecue isn’t going to eat itself.”

  9

  Dagny

  The sound of the shower across the bungalow stopped just as I slipped into my own bathroom.

  Bright lights illuminated a petite bathroom with sparkling white tile floors and a green potted plant with fronds sprouting out of it, tucked away in the corner. I set my toiletry bag on a glittering black bathroom counter and released a breath that felt as if it had been trapped in my lungs for days. When I stared into the mirror, bags seemed to have already collected under my eyes.

  I tore my gaze away, cranked the shower onto its hottest setting, and stripped out of my airplane-grubby clothes. The smell of Jayson’s soap drifted through the door and swirled through my nose until I ripped open one of the bars the hotel provided and passed it under my face just to distract me. A tropical, coconut scent followed, momentarily erasing him from my thoughts.

  Yes, I thought. Go away, Jayson. You and your adorable friendship with Grady. Your warm affection for Helene. The way you smiled at strangers and accidentally touched my leg earlier on the plane. Go. Away.

  The hot water eased some of the tense knots in my shoulders as I replayed the plane ride, the arrival, and finally my short, quick visit with Helene. Sweet, lovely Helene.

  My half-sister.

  Did lineage count if your family didn’t know you existed? Were siblings siblings by virtue of DNA alone? Growing up as an only child had always left me thirsty for outside connections. For anyone but just me in the house, in my life. Someone to lean back on. A tie to another soul that only came from something like life together. Helene was the closest thing I would ever have to that, and she had no idea who I was.

  Water cascaded over my shoulders, sending away the grime and sweat of the airport as I lathered my hair into a wet mess of coconut. My thoughts traveled to Grady, my conversation with Jayson that still brought a smile to my face, and finally to the upcoming dinner.

  Would Anthony be there?

  I sincerely hoped not. At least, not yet. I needed a little more time and a good night’s sleep to settle into this strange reality. The wedding was still two days away, which meant Anthony could be away from the island. Unlikely, considering the crowd that gathered on the beach outside our bungalow after Helene and Grady left. For a moment, I thought about checking in with Serafina, but held back. She didn’t know about Anthony and would only want Jayson details.

  No, I wanted to see this through on my own.

  Water sluiced down my back as I scrubbed the shampoo out of my hair, slicked conditioner in after it, and mentally reviewed my plan of attack. How to not embarrass Jayson. What to wear. Mentally preparing myself for meeting a room of total strangers always required time, silence, and a lot of girl power statements.

  Talking to strangers wasn’t as daunting as the thought of sitting with Jayson through a dinner where some crazy woman might give me the stink eye, all while he would smell impossibly good. Victoria had nothing to do with my trepidation. I’d doubtless conquered worse at the coffee shop or Diner. But if he kept shooting that smile my way?

  Well, there’d be no pretending affection on my part.

  I had a few stutter-free cards up my sleeve that I only used when I absolutely had to. Tonight called for it. I got this, I told myself. Too easy.

  But I wasn’t sure whether I meant the dinner, or keeping Jayson at bay from my too-large heart.

  Thirty minutes later, I slipped out of the bathroom in a bright yellow and pink sundress, a pair of flip flops with subtle, sparkling yellow diamonds along the edges, and my hair straightened around my face. Makeup wasn’t part of my daily repertoire at the coffee shop, but I slipped some mascara and lip gloss on.

  Jayson’s voice stopped me halfway acros
s the wooden floor. I paused, my dirty clothes tucked under one arm, to see a pair of flip flops on his feet. My gaze slowly traveled higher, past sculpted calves, cargo shorts, up to a tapered waist and a subtle, short-sleeved sky-blue button-up that highlighted his dark skin and broad shoulders. I stopped at his lips, unable to look higher.

  “Wow,” he whispered. “Damn, Dagny.”

  My breath caught the moment I had the courage to look in his eyes. The tangy scent of his soap—which my brain only registered as man smell— swirled in my head until I could barely think. He’d left the stubble on his cheeks. His thick, short hair was just a little tousled and still slightly wet.

  “You l-l-look great,” I said.

  He whistled. “So. Do. You.”

  “Thanks.”

  He trapped my gaze again, blinked, and then turned around as if he’d forgotten something. “I, uh . . . “ He cleared his throat. “Are you ready to go? Where are we going again? Oh! The beach. Right. Yes. Are you ready?”

  Startled back to myself, I shook my head and headed for my room, which was tucked back out of the way.

  “Yeah, l-let m-m-me just p-put this away.”

  Once in my room, I set my dirty clothes aside, stopped, and drew in a deep breath. Panicked butterflies filled my chest now. What was I thinking? No way could I do this. No way could I attend this dinner and impress his friends and frighten off his ex-almost-girlfriend and not fall in love with him in the process.

  Get it together, I said with a mental slap. Get. It. Together.

  With the sinking feeling of a deepening attraction sitting like a pit in my stomach, I reached for my purse, then realized I didn’t need one. On a last minute decision, I left my phone tucked in my backpack. No accoutrements tonight. The sensation of not carrying my phone with me left me feeling naked when I stepped back out. Jayson stopped, looked at me one more time, and held out a bent arm. His eyes held a silent question.

  “R-ready,” I said, then slipped my arm through his.

  He pulled me closer, tucked my arm into his side, and led us out. My heart pattered with his warmth so close to my skin, and I wanted to pull myself all the way into him. Wanted the heavy weight of his arm around my waist instead of tucked up against my ribcage. I forced my mind to turn from these thoughts. They would do me no favors tonight.