Page 14 of Return to McCall

Moxie nodded, slipping through the door that Mary held open and out onto the sunny sidewalk. The wind ruffled her hair, and she tucked it behind her ear, looking as if she wanted to say something. Finally, she bent to tie her grubby shoelace, then stood, tucking the bag under her arm. “You watch that show every day?”

“Every weekday at two o’clock.” Mary smiled, brushing a brownie crumb from the shoulder of Moxie’s hoodie. “But get here on time. I don’t want to have to be explaining what you’ve missed the whole time.”

Moxie flashed a sudden smile and turned to go. Mary watched her walk down the sidewalk for a good while before she propped the door open to let in the summer breeze and went back in to finish the last brownie.

* * *

“Hey, Sam?” Charlotte, Lake Haven’s program director, leaned against the door frame of Sam’s office in the main lodge. “I just got a call from the lake that you might want to know about.”

Sam turned in her chair, rubbing her eyes. This was only the second season for the retreat, and the permit and insurance paperwork alone had her pulling her hair out. She’d taken two weeks of accumulated vacation time for the retreat this year, but the officers still called her for literally everything, so between that and catching up on all the logistics at Lake Haven, the last couple of days had felt like the furthest thing from a vacation.

“No problem, I was about to call it a night anyway.” Sam motioned her in. “Everything okay?”

“At the moment, yes, but I just got a call from a couple registered at the retreat, and they seem to be lost in a canoe with zero idea how to get back to the docks. I think they lost their bearings as the sun went down.”

“Ah, man, you’re kidding. Did you call Lake Patrol?”

Charlotte swung her blond ponytail over her shoulder, and Sam noticed Charlotte’s gaze had dropped to her mouth. “Not yet. I thought I’d ask you first.”

Sam stood and grabbed her jacket. “Do me a favor? Call my wife and let her know I’ll be a little later getting home. I’ll go get them myself. They can’t be too far out.” She slid her arms into the jacket and turned off the lights, shutting the door behind her. “Did they give you any idea of where they are?”

“Yeah, they can see that huge blue slide on the dock at the kids’ camp, and I told them just to stay there. I figured that might make them easier to find.”

“Thanks, Charlotte.” Sam found her boat key and glanced at her watch. “Keep your phone on you. I’ll take it from here. How did dinner go tonight?”

“Great, some of the couples had questions, but I answered them. It sounds like everyone loves the activity options this year. They can do yoga or watersports or just be together, although I always recommend taking advantage of everything. Speaking of which…” She paused, her voice soft as she continued. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

Sam said no politely and excused herself. Charlotte had been an instant success as program director this season. She’d taken a huge load off Sam’s shoulders for the same reason she also irritated the hell out of her: everything Charlotte said was dripping with a Georgia accent and the invitation to flirt. She was gorgeous, with tight curves, a cheerleader personality, and a deep love for attention, but she routinely failed to remember Sam was married. Well, it didn’t seem to matter to her that anyone was married, to be fair.

The darkening lake water lapped at the side of the dock as Sam untied her speedboat, clicking on the running lights before she stopped to send a quick text to Sara. The sky was a deep lavender, the first stars just starting to twinkle behind the treetops as Sam pulled the boat smoothly out onto the water. The wind blew her jacket around her as she stood behind the wheel, accelerating onto the lake’s mirrored surface, carving a path from her dock to the camp she’d attended as a kid.

She’d taken over the position as Chief of Police when the previous chief had retired; it was

supposed to be temporary, but before she knew it, her name was on the door, and that had been that. But the truth was that she missed being out on the open water. Being stuck behind a desk had never been her thing, and no two days at Lake Patrol were ever the same, which was exactly how she liked it. But as police chief, her hours were longer than ever, the responsibilities were endless, and she and Sara had started to feel like ships passing in the night.

Sam cut a deep curve around the point of North Beach as the lavender tint of sunset darkened to an expanse of black velvet sky, and the chill reminded her to zip up her jacket. Even in June, the temperature dropped quickly on the water, turning crisp and sharp as the sun sank behind the mountain. Once the darkness settled, all the shorelines started to mirror each other, and it was easy to get turned around, so she wasn’t surprised when she caught sight of the lost canoers waving their paddles like they’d been stranded on a desert island.

After returning them safely to the resort, Sam came through the door at home just in time to watch her wife take a bubbling casserole dish out of the oven. Sara’s wild blond waves were longer now, like constant sunlight hovering around her face, but the pale gold freckles and deep lake-water eyes were the same. Sam dropped her keys soundlessly onto the entry table and leaned back against the door, watching as Sara pulled a spoon out of the drawer and leaned into the dish, breathing in the scent for a moment before she pried a bite off the crispy edge.

It was Sam’s favorite—white truffle lasagna—but what she really liked best about it was watching Sara taste it right out of the oven. Somehow, despite being thirty-seven years old and a professional chef, she seemed genuinely shocked every damn time that it was too hot to eat.

Right on cue, Sara dropped the spoon in the sink and frantically fanned her mouth with her hand. Sam walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around Sara’s waist, and Sara smiled up at her, leaning back into the warmth of her chest.

“Thank God you’re here.” Sara turned and wrapped her arms around Sam with an angelic look. “Did you see that lasagna reach out and attack me?”

“I did, baby,” Sam whispered against the soft ivory slope of her neck. “And it was brutal. In fact, there might be an arrest later. I’ll keep you posted.” Sam pressed Sara up against the refrigerator, tracing the delicate line of Sara’s bare shoulder with her mouth as she unbuttoned her shirt. The black linen slid down her body as Sam dipped her mouth to one pale pink nipple, circling with her tongue before pulling it lightly into her mouth and working it achingly slowly with the slow, wet heat of her mouth.

“Seriously, no bra?” she whispered. “Are you just trying to drive me crazy while there are people in the house, and I can’t do anything about it?”

“Well, Moxie is upstairs on the computer, and Jenn and Murphy aren’t supposed to be here for another few minutes, so…” Sara trailed off as Sam moved back up to her neck, her breath warming the soft skin just below her ear.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Sam laughed as she scooped Sara up in her arms and started carrying her toward their bedroom. “I mean, let’s be honest, you don’t even have to ask me once—”

Her next words were lost as the doorbell and the oven timer blared simultaneously. Sam laughed as she set Sara gently back down, buttoning her shirt with quick fingers as she watched her brother-in-law lean over and peer into the entry window.

“I’m guessing that timer went off for your garlic bread, and if that doesn’t make an appearance, Murphy may never recover, so I’ll just follow up on this tonight.” Sam buttoned the last button, tipped Sara’s face up, and kissed her gently. “To be continued, my love.”

* * *

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