Page 36 of Fire Harbor

Linus shrugged it off as friendly small-town fodder for the rumor mill. As he stripped the bed and took the sheets down to the laundry room, he had no doubt that by tonight everyone in town would know he’d spent the night with Lake Marigold.

Musing over the gossip it would generate, he was so tired he barely had the energy to clean up the breakfast dishes and silence his phone before dropping onto the couch around one-thirty for a quick nap.

The dogs woke him up at four thirty, ready to go out again. Begrudgingly, Linus groaned and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his back from falling asleep on the sofa. He dragged himself out of his makeshift cocoon, rubbed his bleary eyes, and felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. After stumbling to his feet, he checked his phone for messages before slipping on his trainers as the dogs yipped around him, eager to get outside.

Pushing himself to muster up some energy, he grabbed their leashes and stepped outside onto the porch. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, painting a velvety ribbon of pink up and down the street as he walked down the familiar sidewalk with the dogs. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers on the wind with a hint of jasmine.

As they strolled along, Linus waved at Lake’s neighbors as if he took the dogs for walks here every day. He waved at people sitting on their porches or tending to their rain-soaked yards. They wandered past picket fences, with the canines having to stop to sniff every tree and mark every fire hydrant in sight. The dogs bounded ahead, their tails wagging in a happy flip-flop as they tried to chase after a couple of squirrels.

Even though the tranquil neighborhood was much like his own, the full weight of the day hit him at that moment of awareness. With the smell of salty air, wet sand, and seaweed hanging in the balance, the events of the morning came rushing back. The memory of Lake’s laughter, her smile, that body moving under his, and the easy way they’d made love. He realized not a trace of awkwardness existed between them afterward.

As the dogs tugged at their leashes, eager to explore every crack in the sidewalk, Linus veered them back toward the house. There was an eagerness in his step as he looked forward to the night ahead with Lake.

By the time Linus and the dogs made it back to Bishops Bay, Lake was already home from work. The mutts trotted into the entryway like happy pups, ready to settle in for the evening. A polite Jack plopped his butt on the wooden floor first, anxious to get rid of his leash. Scout followed suit, sitting patiently waiting to be released while Farley wanted to chew the leash off himself and refused to sit still.

“Calm down,” Linus instructed. “See how well-behaved your sister is?”

Once free of restraints, all three dogs dashed off toward the sunroom to get a fresh drink of water and lap up the chow their human had left in their bowls for dinner.

“I’ve already put out food,” Lake called out to Linus from the study.

“Where are you?” Linus yelled back. “Give me some idea how to reach you.”

Laughing, she hollered back, “Two doors down across from the living room.” When he popped his head into the study, she let out a whoop. “I thought you’d never make it here. Didn’t you do any exploring this afternoon while I was gone?”

He walked into a room surrounded by bookshelves on three sides stuffed all the way to the ceiling with a dozen sets of encyclopedias, lots of history books, all manner of reference books on various subjects, including but not limited to non-fiction and bestsellers. “Your own personal library?”

“Something like that. Every encyclopedia salesman from here to Los Angeles saw my grandfather as an easy mark.”

“I’ll say.” He counted twelve different sets of leather-bound encyclopedias—the widely distributed World Book, Brittanica, Funk & Wagnalls, Compton’s, The Americana, and the lesser-known British volumes of The Children’s Encyclopedia along with its US counterpart The Book of Knowledge—some sets dated back to the 1920s. “Your grandfather bought all these?”

Stretched out on the couch, she sat up on one elbow. “My great-grandfather started the madness. By then, my grandfather, still a boy himself, was hooked, too. As you can see, the vintage ones are from the early twentieth century. Full disclosure: I can’t stand to see people ripping out pages of books—any books— just to do stupid projects that require shredding their entire existence. I’ve been known to bring home entire sets of encyclopedias that people want hauled away for whatever reason.”

“Hmm. So you save books from total eradication. I like that.” But his interest in books morphed into something else. He took in the way her body sprawled on the sofa, the way her long legs and bare feet hung off one end. She had the cutest toes.

He shook off the lust for the moment and brought himself back into the conversation. “The only exploring I did while you were gone was walking the dogs. At the time, your backyard was pretty much eighteen inches of standing water. It took me almost forty-five minutes to get all the mud off these guys. By the way, you have a nice setup downstairs for shampooing and grooming. Your idea?”

“I’ve had dogs as far back as I can remember. I got Jack after the dog I grew up with died—another terrier mix—Bronte was her name. She was cute as a button, fifteen when her kidneys shut down, and Cord had to put her down. That was the saddest day of my life. I wasn’t even thinking about another dog until Cord found Jack about six weeks later. I had to wait for Cord to give him the all-clear before I could adopt him, though. Jack helped me heal.”

Linus settled into an armchair across from the sofa, his gaze lingering on her as she spoke about her beloved Bronte and the arrival of Jack. The way her eyes softened and sparkled as she recounted the story tugged at something inside him, a feeling he wasn't quite ready to put a name to. Instead, he changed the subject again.

“You have quite the collection of hardcovers from the 1960s,” Linus remarked, gesturing to the towering shelves around them. “Any favorites?”

Lake’s face lit up as she sat up a little straighter, clearly eager to share her passion. “Oh, where do I start? I have a soft spot for classic literature, but I also love diving into historical fiction and biographies. There’s just something about getting lost in a different time period or someone else’s fascinating trials and tribulations, their journey through life, which always captivates me.”

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Linus found himself drawn into an exchange about his favorite historical genre—the 1930s to 1940s—especially those years during World War II. “There’s something about how men and women of that era sacrificed for the greater good. That kind of thing always draws me in. I might have to start reading a few of your gardening books, too. I noticed your garden survived because you had the forethought to put in raised beds.”

“Although the storm destroyed my little tomato plants,” Lake grumbled. “I knew I should’ve waited an extra week before planting. That’s what happens when I don’t check the Farmer’s Almanac. Oh well. I’ll deal with the damage tomorrow.” She sat up straighter and picked up her phone, swiping to her text messages. “Tomorrow. Oh, gosh, I almost forgot about the community meeting on Sunday afternoon after church service. The potluck luncheon where Brent is supposed to ease our fears about the serial killer. I got busy at work and completely put it out of my mind. I’ll probably need to bake something for it, even though Jordan texted me earlier that she’s handling the food. Jolene still wants to bring a dish too. So does your mom.”

“My mom?”

“I saw her today. She came in for emergency supplies. I gave her jugs of water, canned goods, and some extra batteries. We talked for almost half an hour. She told me I should call her Annette. She asked me to dinner.”

Linus shook his head. “Did she now? Shows how desperate she is to marry off her son.”

Lake tried to hide a giggle. “Yes, I got that impression. If she could, I’m convinced she’d pimp you out on TikTok.”

Linus roared with laughter. “Did she also mention that I told her to give us time before she had you over for dinner? And it seems she went behind my back at the first opportunity. You know she took advantage of the storm to approach you, right? I swear she has spies all over town.”

---