Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

I grinned harder as my sister laughed under her breath. “I’ve been told this. It’s a problem, I know.”

They laughed and the awkwardness melted.

As we ate, Astrid told me about her job as a publicist for Candlelight Press, a book publisher in Allston. Davina tried to explain her job for the hundredth time, but I couldn’t get my head around it. Thankfully, neither could Astrid. And they asked about Hartwell, even though Davina seemed tentative.

“It’s beautiful.” I missed it. I’d already told Davina about it the other night, so I talked more about my friends. “Bailey got engaged to Vaughn, so that’s been the latest excitement. Oh, and we sporadically have trouble from a family called the Devlins. Ian Devlin, the dad, he owns a hotel, some other businesses in town, the fun park, and he’s a shady character, to say the least. He’s been trying to buy property on the boardwalk for years and has these crass plans to turn it into a five-star resort that a tiny percentage of the population could afford to visit. His son broke into Bailey’s inn and attacked her, trying to find confidential information he could use against her.”

Davina and Astrid stared wide-eyed at me.

“What?”

“It sounds like the setting to my favorite soap opera,” Astrid said.

I laughed. “It’s not as dramatic as it sounds. That family is a menace. Every town has one.”

Davina looked at her half-empty plate. “You’re really going back there, aren’t you?”

“I … I live there. I love it there. But I won’t leave again. You and Astrid could come vacation there in the summer, and I’ll be back. I promise. Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas … whenever you want me, I’ll come back.”

My sister looked up, tears in her eyes. Astrid grabbed her hand tightly. “After Dillon died, I didn’t only lose her. I lost you, and I lost Mom. It was like our whole family fell apart.”

Grief clawed at my throat. “Da—”

“I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty. I think we both know you’ve lived with that emotion for too long. I just … I need you to know how much it means to have you back.”

“I need you to know how much it means that you would have me back.”

“No more of that,” she chided. “Deciding to forgive you means not bringing that up again.”

Silence fell over the table and then Astrid piped up. “I bought a banoffee pie from Bova’s.”

I took a second to understand. “And you made me eat real food when you were sitting on banoffee pie from Bova’s?”

Chortling, my sister’s girlfriend got up to clear the table just as my cell blasted from my purse.

“I see your taste in music hasn’t changed,” Davina said.

Grinning, I reached into my purse to silence my cell. It was an unknown number. I showed it to Davina. She shrugged. “Answer it.”

I did. “Hello?”

“Dahlia?” Dermot’s voice filled my ear.

“Dermot?”

My sister’s expression froze with alertness.

“I just got off the phone with Dar, and he said you’re thinking about going to see Mom?”

“Ye—”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled. “She wants to talk, she’ll come to you. You go there, you corner her, and you’ll have to deal with me.” Silence followed his threat, and I realized he’d hung up.

That tight ugly knot filled my stomach as I lowered my phone.

Every time I took a step forward, there was someone to push me back.

The rain lashed against the windshield of their unmarked Ford Crown Victoria as Michael waited for Davis to come back with their coffees. Davis would also probably get himself a cinnamon pinwheel or two. Bastard. He knew Michael didn’t eat that shit regularly.