The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(11)

“Ben.” Ryan shook his hand and nodded a silent hello to Steffi.

They looked like they’d been on a run. Something he used to do with them eons ago when they’d all played soccer. He assumed their next stop would be their dad’s, where they’d drink a beer and engage in something competitive like poker or horseshoes. The Lockwoods had always been doers, not talkers.

Ben looked at Emmy. “You decided?”

“Cotton candy,” she repeated, smiling.

Ben put out his fist for a little bump. “Good choice.”

Emmy giggled. “Are you her boyfriend?”

“Heck, no. I’m her brother.” Ben winked at Emmy. Ryan had forgotten how much he’d liked Ben Lockwood. That friendship had been another casualty of Steffi’s kiss-off.

Emmy looked at Ryan. “I wish I had a brother.”

She might’ve if Val hadn’t miscarried their second pregnancy six years ago. After that, Val hadn’t wanted to try again for a long time. By the time she might’ve been willing, the marriage had already been showing signs of trouble.

“Do you have kids?” Emmy asked them both.

“No,” they answered in unison.

“Why not?”

“Neither of us is married, for starters,” Steffi said.

Not for the first time, Ryan wondered about the men who had come after him, but he brushed the pointless thought aside.

“Why not?” Emmy’s relentless interrogations set the stage for a brilliant legal career someday. In that way, she took after him.

“Um.” Steffi paused, casting a quick peek at Ryan. “Bad decisions and timing.”

Ben ate his ice cream, but Ryan watched his brows rise in surprise. Had Steffi meant to insinuate regret about his and Steffi’s demise? And if so, what kind of reaction did she expect from him? He grunted, causing Emmy to look up with a puzzled expression.

“Look, it’s our turn to go inside.” He nudged his daughter forward. “Let’s let these two get on with their night. Say goodbye.”

Emmy waved goodbye while he held the screen door open for her.

“Have a nice night,” Steffi said, catching his eye.

Flustered, he almost smiled. “You too.”

Ben waved, and then the Lockwood siblings turned to go off to wherever they planned to spend their night. He stood there, watching them leave, his body flushed from the summer heat and unexpected run-in. Steffi still had those great legs . . .

“Daddy!” Emmy called, having made her way to the counter. He let the screen door slam shut behind him. Damn if Steffi’s wistful remark hadn’t split a seam in his stitched-up heart. He’d better sew it back up before things began to spill out.





Chapter Three

A light breeze whistled through the leaves of the oak trees overhead, carrying the scent of the nearby seawater. Summer days like this made Steffi want to throw down her tools and jump on a bike. Or hit the beach with sunscreen, a trashy novel, and a friend.

Sighing to herself, she pried another wood strip from the exterior of the screen panels. Damaged or rotted stuff would be discarded, other things could be repurposed, and new elements would be introduced. In the end, the old house would be improved.

If only her life were that predictable. That simple.

Today she’d planned to remove all the screens, but she was running out of time. It was already nearing five o’clock. Given that Ryan preferred no contact with her, she wanted to leave before six to avoid bumping into him. She’d managed to steer clear of him these past few days, but only because she’d been meeting with Molly off-site to pick out windows and moldings and such. Now that demolition had begun, she knew they’d be forced to see each other again.

That thought caused old butterflies to emerge from their chrysalides. She rolled her eyes at herself. Since when had she become a masochist?

The wood strip she tossed onto the pile of ones she’d already removed landed with a satisfactory clatter. Dragging the back of her hand across her brow, she chugged from her water bottle as Molly’s car pulled into the detached garage. Steffi heard its doors open and close while Emmy’s voice chattered away. That kid could talk.

Steffi waved at them when they crossed the yard toward the back door. Molly was carrying a cake box. Predictably, Emmy followed behind her, wearing a pastel floral sundress and carrying a gift bag in her hand.

“Looks like you two are planning a party.” She tried to recall if any of the Quinns’ birthdays fell in August but didn’t think so. “Special occasion?”

“Ryan’s new job was also a sort of promotion, but with the move, we haven’t had a chance to make a fuss yet.”

Molly’s proud smile made Steffi miss her own mother, who remained a dreamlike amalgam of watery memories, scattered photographs, and stories told by her dad and her brothers. Would her mom be proud of whom her only daughter had become—a self-sufficient if slightly lonely construction worker? Visits to her grave never settled that question.

Steffi smiled at Molly. “That’s great.”

“Something to celebrate in an otherwise turbulent time.” Then Molly’s gaze darted to Emmy and her ever-alert ears. “I must go set this down, Emmy. Don’t distract Miss Lockwood while she’s working.”

Molly made her way inside, but Emmy lingered a bit, shaking the small pink gift bag dangling from her fingers. “I made my dad a present.”