What Are Friends For?

“Well, I ... ” Claire puffed out a breath and stared at the three people holding back smiles. “Why did he leave in the middle of our conversation?”

Ian cleared his voice. “He was done speaking.”

“And said bullshit, so ... ” Fin shrugged.

She blinked once, twice, the third time a spark ignited. “I wasn’t finished, though.”

“Maybe go tell him that then.” Emelie pointed to the door.

Claire propped her hands on her hips and shifted front and back—Madelynn and Claire, propriety and passion—playing tug of war. Brandon never let her win an argument. Always talking over or around her. Danny did neither of those things, still, somehow she’d lost. Her cheeks burned.

“You know what? I think I’ll do just that.” Claire marched down the stairs. Her mind running too fast to register the three cheering voices behind her.

Danny’s voice drifted from behind a closed wooden door, and she stopped in front of it. He had time to talk to someone. Clearly.

What was happening to her? Was it just the trauma from last night? She felt a little wild. Unhinged in the middle. Her fingers went numb curled around the doorknob. And for the first time, Claire didn’t weigh what was proper and what wasn’t.

She threw open the door.

Danny froze mid-sentence and did a couple of double takes. He’d hoped his bluntness would light the fight he’d seen when she confronted Trevor. But nothing could’ve prepared him for what simmered at the entrance of his office. Claire. Hands squeezed tight at her sides. Eyes like a burning pyre.

Nor did he realize he’d enjoy it so much.

He cleared his throat and glanced down, making a quick, hidden adjustment below the desk.

She opened her mouth to speak, and he held up a finger. “That’s what I thought. Okay, yeah, it’ll take a bit. She hasn’t eaten yet.” Unable to stop himself, his eyes slid back to her. She still burned. “But I’ll bring her over as soon as she does. Thanks, Tom.” In one slow, controlled movement, he placed the handset on the receiver of an old landline phone and swiveled his chair to face her. Steepling his fingers under his chin, he said, “Yes, Claire.”

“We weren’t finished talking.”

“Weren’t we?”

“Why is there a rug here?” She pointed down at the doorway.

“My Grandfather started it. You wipe your feet before you come in to say what’s outside the door stays out there. You wipe when you leave to keep what’s in the office, inside.”

“Well, in that case.” She hopped over the rug, bringing it all in.

He hid a smile behind his fingers. “Might want to grab your cloak.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flashed in her eyes. “Okay. It’ll take a minute to pack. But if you drive me to the airport, I can take care of everything else from there.”

“I’m not taking you to the airport.”

She stopped on her way to the doorway, still avoiding the rug, and spun around. “But I told you I’m leaving.”

“And I said bullshit.” Her eyes bulged, and he fought another smile, quickly adding, “But also, Officer Murphy needs to speak to you.”

She pointed to his phone. “You called him on purpose. You knew he’d say that.”

“Yes, I did.”

His directness stunned her momentarily, but then she straightened her spine. Her face bending down halfway, she glared out of the tops of her eyes.

Shit. The fire he lit in her blazed as she slowly, purposefully—one foot in front of the other—stalked toward him.

It threw off his game. Hell, it threw off every thought in his head except the swing of her hips and how much he wanted to get a firm hold on them.

She slapped her palms down on his desk, snapping his brain back, and leaned halfway across. “You can’t force me to stay here, Daniel.”

He arched back in his seat, taking all of her in. “I’m not. Officer Murphy is.”

“I didn’t come here to have another parent, agent, or man tell me what I can and cannot do.”

Danny placed his hands on either side of hers and stood, meeting her at her level. “Good. We’re in agreement then.”

“You’re,” her view dropped to his mouth, “taking me to the airport?”

“No.”

Her eyes ticked up and narrowed further. “You. You were the man I was referring to, in case that wasn’t clear.”

He slowly smiled. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want to leave Solsken because you hate it here, and I won’t stop you.” He inched closer until he felt her rapid breathing on his face and lowered his voice. “But if you’re leaving because you’re being bullied away from where you want to be, then I’m not letting you go.”

She closed her eyes with a deep breath, and to his great disappointment, backed away. “You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

“He knew we were together last night.”

Their “together” from this morning flashed in his mind, and he circled around the desk. “I didn’t—we didn’t—nothing happened, n-not really, not on purpose.” He blew out air.

“I know that. We just had wine and talked.”

Ah, yes, last night. That’s the together she meant, dummy. He cleared his voice. “So, you’re going to let some bastard threaten you for talking to me?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I can’t ... I won’t ... ” She took a deep breath and tried again. “I won’t bring you into my mess, Daniel.”

He stepped closer. “What if I want to be there?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Trust me, you don’t.”

“How many friends do you have, Claire?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do those friends usually let you handle ghost-threatening assholes alone? Because I can tell you one thing, if someone threatened me, Ian would beat them to an inch of their life and go back to do it again. Don’t even get me started on what Ems would do, or what I’d do for either of them.”

“People like me don’t have friends like that.”

He pressed his tongue into his cheek, studying her. “I thought we established that we’re friends last night.”

“Daniel—”

“You said you don’t want anyone else telling you what to do, yet here you are doing exactly what this bastard wants.” He curled his arms over his chest. “Do you hate it in Solsken?”

“No, I love it.”

“You feel unsafe with me then?”

She dropped a long look at the dragon hurling fire over his flexed arm. “I-I feel quite safe with you.”

“Good.” He edged around her. “Grab your cloak. We’re headed to the station.” He walked out without wiping his feet. He wanted what was in his office to follow him out.

She did.

Danny ignored all three eavesdroppers scurrying away from his office and into the bar area pretending to clean, and smiled when he heard, “You know, I can get to the airport without you.”

“I’m sure you could.” He made his way up and into his apartment. “But you’re not going to,” he called.

She followed, feet stomping all the way up. “Do you boss around all the residents here, Daniel? Are you like a king and all of us peons must bow and obey?” She kept stomping and his smile grew. “I have news for you.”

She paused in the stairwell, and he half-turned toward it when he heard a deep breath. Like she gathered up air to control herself again.

No, let it out for me. He startled at his own thought.

“Friends,” she said, voice more calm but razor sharp. “Do not let friends get into crap with them.”

Danny grinned widely. “Actually, that’s the very definition of a friend. To drive straight into a great big pile of shit, together.”

“Oh yeah? Well—” She hopped over the top step and plowed right into him. She went very still, staring at his chest. Her gaze a little dazed like she was lost in a memory. Then slowly, her hand drifted to the side of her neck where he’d kissed her.

Did she still think it was just a dream?

“Found it,” he said, and she blinked. He held up her cloak hooked on one finger. The point of her turned-up nose lifted, ready for more fighting. “I promised you breakfast and a tour, remember?”

“Oh.” All the fire smothered in her eyes, replaced with disappointment. “I forgot about breakfast, and it’s getting late.”

“Not too late. We can still go.” He tipped his head. “That is, if you’re going to stay for a while longer.”

“Please, stay,” Emelie yelled as she, Ian, and Fin ran up the stairs, making their stairwell eavesdropping known.

Claire spun around. “But where would I stay?”

“Normally, I’d say you could stay at the Solsken Inn, but when Trevor and his friends left, their rooms were taken by some long-termer who seems to be hibernating in as much space as he can get.” Her face brightened. “Danny’s got a spare room though.”

Ian’s eyes snapped to him, probably waiting to see him panic. It was there. Sitting like a heavy fist in his stomach.

“O-oh, no,” Claire said. “I couldn’t stay here.”

“Yeah, you could,” Fin said. “We all did last night.”

“But—” Her eyes slid to Danny, and he remained silent, studying her. Waiting to see if she was actually against the idea, or trying to be polite.

“Look at it this way,” Ian chimed in. “Flygande has the best security system on the island. A genuine Jake Matthews’ System.”

“Oh, a Jake Matthews?” Tension eased out of Claire’s expression. “Yes, I’m familiar with them. His systems are the best that I know of.”

“It helps that the man is stupid rich and has a pretty face to back them up too.” Emelie sighed. Fin crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

“Danny had it installed before he left,” Ian said. “Because while he lived here, well,” he gestured to Danny, “he was the security and no one but dumb kids ever tried to break in.”

“But why are you all doing this for me?” Claire looked to each of them. “You hardly know me.”

“Purely selfish reasons,” Ian said. “We want bragging rights for having your next novel written here. Hopefully bring more ugly polos to Solsken.”

She laughed before facing Danny. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

He nodded, quick and short. The reality of being close to her every day slowly closed in, scaring him shitless. But Ian was right. Flygande was one of the safest places on the island.

Just not the safest place for his heart.

“Then if I do stay,” Claire said. “I stay in the guest room. I’m not taking your bedroom from you.”

“Sure.” His jaw ticked. “Absolutely.” Nope. Absolutely not.

“And it’s only until things get sorted. Then I’ll go back to the cottage.”

“It’s whatever you want, Claire.”

A slow smile lifted her cheeks and she whispered, “Bullshit.”

He belted a surprised laugh, and Emelie cheered, throwing her arms around Claire. “Danny’s right, you know. This is what friends do.”

“Friends,” Ian announced, surrounding them both in his arms. Claire and Emelie squeaked when he squished them together.