Mischief after Midnight

Chapter 4

Four

Or maybe not.

When Toni reached Yatesville, her heart sank at the sight of the construction crew hard at work on the lighthouse.

Chrissie’s master plan involved turning the lighthouse into a Museum of Homestead Life and Alaskan Oddities, and adding an upscale brewery where tourists could enjoy the spectacular views after their dose of history. That was going to be Toni’s domain—a brewery she could run exactly as she chose.

But from what Toni could tell, none of that dream was even close. The crew was ripping out some rotting boards above the foundation of the lighthouse. With its whitewashed sides, black trim and angled glass windows, it looked like a wistful penguin gazing out to sea.

Chrissie stood on a slope overlooking the lighthouse, hands planted on her hips, her blond ponytail flying in the wind like a warning flag. Chrissie knew a lot about construction herself, having been raised like a frontier kid on this very property.

“You look like you’re about to confiscate those sledgehammers and do it yourself,” Toni told her as she reached her side.

“I’m tempted. I don’t want them touching any of the original plasterwork or trim. That stuff’s iconic.”

Toni smiled to herself. Chrissie had just returned to Lost Harbor after years away, and now she was throwing herself into it a hundred percent.

“Guess who’s back? In related news, when can I start work out here?”

“Huh?” Chrissie dragged her attention away from the crew and refocused her sparkly blue gaze on Toni. “Back up. I feel like I missed a few steps here. Who’s back?”

“Remember Bash Rivers?”

“Tristan’s friend? Of course.”

“He showed up at the Olde Salt last night. Surprise, he’s buying the place.”

Chrissie’s eyebrows quirked. “Why? Isn’t he some kind of bigtime fighter now? What would he want with a decrepit old tavern about to fall off the boardwalk?”

“Hey.” Toni always came to the defense of her beloved Olde Salt.

“Sorry. Just saying.” Chrissie caught something out of the corner of her eye and yelled down at the crew. “Watch that six-by-six, it’s load-bearing!” She turned back to Toni. “Okay, so I’m still not connecting the dots here. You don’t want to work for Bash? I thought he was a friend. Did something happen between you?”

Toni tugged the inside of her cheek between her teeth. She’d never told any of her friends about her hopeless crush on Bash. But maybe she’d assumed that everyone knew about it; that she’d carried around a giant neon flashing sign that said “I love Bash.”

“No, nothing happened.”

Chrissie gave her a close look, but Toni didn’t say any more. She’d gone this long without revealing her crush, why start now? It was embarrassing, even humiliating, to pine after someone who barely knew you existed except as a pesky tagalong.

Except when he’d rescued her after that silly dare had spiraled out of control…

But she didn’t like to think about that long-ago incident. Some things were best buried deep.

“You probably don’t want to have to train a new boss,” Chrissie said, letting her off the hook.

“Exactly. It seems like good timing for me to focus on the brewery. Bash likes competition. Let’s give him some.”

“I like how you’re thinking. Unfortunately, we won’t be much competition when the brewery looks like that.” Chrissie gestured toward the bare patch of land next to the lighthouse, where they intended to put the brewery. Situated right next to a piece of Lost Harbor history, with sweeping views of Misty Bay—it was perfect. Or it would be, once it existed. Chrissie intended to move one of her grandfather’s yurts into the spot. Very authentic. Very unique. Very much still in the planning phase.

Toni sighed.

“Also, I don’t have funds for salaries yet. Not until the water filtration sale goes through.” Her grandfather had invented a system that produced the sweetest, purest water—and made the best ale. Hence the brewery plan.

“I have some money saved. I don’t need a salary.”

Chrissie laughed and gave her a little hug. “You know I’d love to have the company, but there isn’t much to do until we get the yurt moved in. That’s a few weeks away. Don’t you think you’re rushing things? I know how important the Olde Salt is to you. And Bash was Tristan’s best friend. It can’t be that bad working for him. Especially if you know it’s temporary.”

All very good points.

“Don’t we have to nail down details and s**t like that?”

“Sure. Let’s schedule some planning sessions. In the meantime, you’re welcome to come herd construction workers with me. Some of them are pretty hot.” Chrissie winked, even though everyone knew she was completely in love with Ian Finnegan, whose only power tool expertise involved surgical instruments.

Toni glanced down at the crew. “Carl, Biggie, Roger, D’von. I know them all. Good guys, but no thanks.”

“Not worthy?”

“One’s married, one has a long-time girlfriend, I dated one a few years ago for about a week, and one of them told me he only dates women he can beat at darts. Needless to say, I crushed him at darts.”

Chrissie rolled her eyes. “Good old-fashioned machismo, still alive and well.”

“Oh yeah. Believe me, I can sense that s**t a mile away. He also said that washing dishes makes his balls shrivel up. I told him I needed someone with sturdier balls than that.”

A laugh from Chrissie. “What’d he say to that?”

“That I have bigger balls than most men, so good luck finding one.” She laughed lightly, but truth be told, Roger had hurt her feelings with that c***k.

Not that she’d ever let him know, the jackass.

“Well, we can cross him off the list. Definitely not Toni-worthy.”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Chrissie said quickly. “Completely and totally staying out of your love life.”

“That better be a promise. Not that there’s anything to stay out of.”

Just then D’von jogged up the slope toward them, sweat gleaming on his brown skin. “Got a question,” he called to Chrissie. “Hey Tone. What’s up?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just turned back to Chrissie and launched into a discussion about the foundation.

“So which one is he?” Chrissie asked after he ran back down the hill to the crew.

“The married one,” Toni grumbled. “He and his wife moved here a couple years ago. Baby on the way. I should get going. I need to check in on Tristan before work.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s all right. Thanks to your man.” Ian, who was a brain surgeon, had operated on Tristan. He’d managed to stop the bleeding in his brain before it did any long-term damage.

“I’ll make sure he’s properly rewarded.” Chrissie practically purred, her face flushing at the mere mention of Ian. The two of them were so romantic together. Toni had sworn off that kind of romance, but for Chrissie, it had come twice—once with Toni’s very own brother. Chrissie and Tristan had been high school sweethearts.

Maybe Chrissie had suggestions about how to deal with the reappearance of someone from the past.

“I’ve never asked you, but is it weird for you to be around Tristan now?”

“It was at first, a little.” Chrissie glanced up as an eagle glided over their heads, then landed on the lighthouse. It was such a perfect Alaskan scene: the craggy mountains in the background, the eagle’s proud profile outlined against the clear blue sky. Postcard material. She took out her phone and snapped a photo.

“But then?” Toni prodded. She was more used to sights like these, since she’d spent most of her adulthood in Lost Harbor.

“We talked, the first time I ran into him. We grabbed a cup of coffee and caught up on our lives. And you know, we were both single at that point. If we still had sparks, we could have considered take two. But…” She shrugged. “No sparks at all. He’s like my brother now.”

Well, that was absolutely no help at all. Toni shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. Bash did not feel like her brother. The thoughts he inspired in her weren’t remotely brotherly.

“Then again, I’d already met Ian at that point,” Chrissie continued. “Sparks galore.”

Maybe that was the solution. She needed to meet someone else. She needed sparks. Right away.

But how was that supposed to happen when she knew all the single men in town, their drink preferences, and their entire dating histories?

“Are you asking because of Alastair?” Chrissie asked her.

“Hm?”

“You know, the hottie with the sexy Scottish accent?”

Wow, how had she forgotten about Alastair? Bash sure had done a number on her. Alastair Dougal had been zipping in and out of town the past few months. He often stopped in at the Olde Salt and chatted with her over a triple-malt.

“He has his eye on you,” added Chrissie.

Toni shrugged. “We’re friends, that’s all. We’ve had some laughs together.”

“You always do that. You banish people into the friend dungeon before you give them a chance to be more.”

“Yup, that’s my superpower.”

“Maybe you have so many men around you that it’s safer to turn them all into friends. Like princes into frogs with a wave of your wand.”

“Oh, come on. That’s crazy. I don’t have a wand.”

They both laughed.

“Okay, my metaphor sucks. But Alastair Dougal is a prince, and I bet you anything that he’d jump at the chance to date you.”

Date Alastair Dougal. It was something to consider.

A breath of wind ruffled the surface of the bay and then whispered across her face. It felt almost as if the ocean was speaking to her, sending messages on the breeze. Her connection to the ocean went so deep. That was what kept her in Lost Harbor, even more than friends and familiarity. Could a stranger like Alastair understand that?

Bash could. He knew exactly how much the ocean meant to her—good and bad. He’d rescued her from the worst ocean experience she’d ever had. If he hadn’t been there, reaching for her in the dark water…

Oh hell no. This wasn’t happening. She was not going to fall for Bash again.

“Think about it,” Chrissie was saying. “At least you haven’t known him forever. I’m sure he’d survive getting beaten at darts.”

Toni laughed at that dry observation.

“And you have the perfect excuse to spend time with him. You said he’d be a good choice for a chef for the brewery. Have you talked to him about that yet?”

“No, he hasn’t been around. As soon as he shows up I’ll mention it.”

“Good.” Chrissie took her by both shoulders and shook her gently. “And whatever you do, don’t lock him into the friend jail right away. Promise me.”

By the time Toni was back in her pickup, she’d decided that Chrissie had a very good point. Alastair Dougal had a lot going for him in terms of dating potential. That accent was so sexy. She hadn’t grown up with him. Being a chef, he could cook all their meals since she was incompetent in that area.

Most importantly, he didn’t see her as a tomboy kid who had to be rescued from a dare gone wrong, or a reckless girl who got into even more mischief than the boys did.