He had so many questions; mostly he wanted to know what was going on and why Brooklyn was back. Was she purely there to do the renovation and go back to wherever she came from? Or did Carly know something? Had she suspected all those years when she’d helped nurture Austin’s friends that he’d felt something for Brooklyn? No, he was sure there was no way Carly knew anything then, nor was she playing matchmaker now. Aside from him and Brooklyn, the only people who knew were Graham and Rachel. Actually, Rachel had found out by accident. That particular year, Bowie was struggling. He was missing his friend and told Rachel everything and then said he never wanted to speak about it again. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders, but it was short lived. Once the anniversary of Austin’s death rolled around, Bowie was back on edge, wondering if Brooklyn was going to storm into town, wrecking him. And she finally had.
Graham placed another beer in front of Bowie. He looked up and tried to smile. Graham set his hands on the edge of the bar and bent over until he was eye level with him. “Want to tell me what’s going on?” Graham asked. The man was a vault and would never share the stories people told him while sitting at his bar. Plus, since they had grown up together, there wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other.
Bowie shook his head slowly and picked up the next pint to take a drink, finishing it off without a pause and setting the glass down with a thud. It was going to be a long night, and he suspected Graham would supply him with plenty of booze to get him talking.
“I haven’t seen you like this in years. Not even when Rachel asked for a divorce. Is Luke okay?”
Luke? He turned cold at the mention of his dog’s name. Where was he? Bowie tried to recollect whether he drove him home or left him in the truck. There was no way he’d leave his faithful companion in the cab while he sat in the bar. He had never been that careless before and if Brooklyn’s return meant he was . . . well, that was unacceptable. Luke was his best friend, and he would never do anything to hurt him.
Bowie got up from the bar and went outside. There was a chill in the air, and he shivered, crossing his arms for comfort. He jogged down the block until he came to his truck. The cab was empty. His head rested against the window as he cursed before pushing himself away from his truck. He knew Luke was at home. He had dropped him off after he left Carly’s. After he’d fed Luke, they’d gone for a long walk along the beach, a place where Bowie always found a bit of calm amid the madness that was in his life. It hadn’t worked tonight, which was how he had ended up at the bar.
He was losing his mind, and for what? A woman? A former friend who had walked out on the people who loved and cared about her the most? Not worth it. “She’s not worth it,” he mumbled into the night sky.
“Who isn’t?”
Bowie jerked in shock and found Monroe Whitfield standing in front of him. She smiled softly and pushed her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket. Along with the Chamberlain twins, she had grown up with Bowie. While Monroe was beautiful, he wasn’t attracted to her. Sometimes, he wished he was, though, because his mother loved her. He did as well, but only as a friend. He looked around and realized he was back at the bar. Was he really that deep in thought that he was losing time, or was he drunker than he realized? Either that or Graham was spiking his beer.
“Hey, Roe. You snuck up on me.”
“Really?” She tilted her head and smiled. “Pretty sure if I hadn’t said something, you would’ve plowed me over.”
Bowie ran his hand over the back of his head and sighed. “Sorry. I’m in a fog.”
“Rachel?” she asked.
He shook his head slowly and motioned toward the door. “You going in?”
“Yeah, do you know if Grady’s in there?”
Bowie wasn’t sure what Roe saw in him other than a charity case. Everyone in town knew Monroe tried to help Grady. Late at night, she would be seen driving around, looking for him, trying to get him to go home. The accident that had taken Austin also had taken Grady, but in a different way. Everyone had been affected, lost someone they loved, but Grady had taken the death of Austin the worst.
Again, Bowie shook his head. “Sorry,” he said, pointing to his head. “Foggy.” Bowie held the door open for Monroe and followed behind her. Graham yelled her name, and she waved. Monroe chose to sit at a table, likely expecting her sister to join her later. Bowie was torn. Go back to sit at the bar or go converse with one of his oldest friends. Graham made the decision for him when he sat two beers down on the table along with a bowl of popcorn and two menus. The Whale Spout served some of the best finger foods this side of the Sound.