Chapter Nine

Emmie’s phone rang early the next morning, waking her from a sound sleep. She sat straight up, blinking as her mind tried to process where the shrill bell was coming from. When she realized it was a call, she groped for her cell and answered.

“Hello?” Her voice came out as a croak so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello?”

“It’s … I’m … my name is Mallory Lacefield, and you came by the other day.”

It took Emmie a moment to realize Mallory was the ice cream shop owner. “Yes! Yes, thank you for calling me.”

“It wasn’t easy for me to make this call.”

“I understand,” Emmie said. “Did you know my brother?”

“I did,” Mallory replied. “I thought he forgot about me. When you said he wrote about my store in his journal, my heart broke all over again. He didn’t forget, did he?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“I loved him.” Mallory sniffed, and her voice was thick from crying.

“Can I come over?” Emmie asked.

“I would like that.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Mallory.”

The call disconnected. Emmie leaped from bed, and after the world’s fastest shower, she dressed in the first clothes she could find, jeans and a t-shirt. Her mother would pitch a fit if she had seen Emmie wearing them, so she mentally flipped the bird at her mom.

Eight minutes later, she pulled up in front of the ice cream parlor. A CLOSED sign rested on the door, but it opened immediately, as if Mallory watched for her arrival. Emmie stepped inside the cool interior and Mallory closed it and locked it behind her. Her dark hair was styled in a blunt cut that framed and complemented her delicate features. Wide brown eyes were a little swollen and red, revealing a night spent crying.

“Thank you for reaching out,” Emmie said. “I’m Emmie, by the way.”

She held out her hand, and Mallory shook it. “You look like him.”

“We’re twins.” Emmie sucked in a deep breath. “He was about ten minutes older than me.”

“I knew he had a sister, but I didn’t know…” Mallory cleared her throat. “I mean, he didn’t really talk all that much about his family.”

“I’m not surprised,” Emmie said. “Our parents weren’t cut out to be the nurturing types.”

They stood in front of each other awkwardly before Mallory gestured to a nearby table.

“Would you like some ice cream? I’d offer coffee but I don’t have any.”

Emmie shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

They sat across from each other, and Emmie linked her fingers together to rest on her lap.

“Jacoby always ordered salted caramel ribbon. Just like you.”

“It was our favorite,” Emmie replied. “Can I ask how you met him?”

“I was on vacation in New York City,” Mallory said, smiling a bit dreamily as her memory drifted back in time. “I was doing one of those boat tours around the Statue of Liberty and had just gotten off the bus when I knocked this guy down. He looked up and I looked down, and that was it. I just knew this was the man I was going to marry.”

Emmie’s heart hurt. It was torture listening to the happiness in her tone.

“He spent the entire weekend with me, and when I had to come back home, he followed. Stayed a couple of weeks before he had to leave.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. “He said he was coming back to be with me, but I never saw him again. I thought … I thought he changed his mind.”

That explained where he’d been for that missing time right before his death.

“Did you know who he was?”

Mallory shook her head. “He never talked about his background, except to say he had a sister and didn’t talk to his parents. Truthfully, none of that mattered to me. With money, without money. I fell in love with the man, not the name.”

“I’m glad he found you,” Emmie whispered. “That he had love.”

“When you said he died, it was a complete shock,” Mallory continued, chin wobbling. “I went from thinking he didn’t want me, to finding out he was no longer in this world. And I wish I’d been able to say goodbye.”

Emmie reached over the table to lay her hand on Mallory’s. “I think he was planning to move here. For you. A lot of his stuff had been packed in boxes.”

Her words unleashed Mallory’s sorrow. Tears poured from her eyes, and she couldn’t hold back the sobs. Emmie rose and moved around the table to kneel and hug her as the torrent of emotions unleashed.

“Shh,” she said. “I’m so thankful he had you.”

For a long moment, they hugged each other. Emmie would always miss and mourn her brother, and although she may not be ready to lay him to rest, perhaps that was a disservice to his memory. Maybe the only way to move past the heartbreak was to truly let him go.

“In his journal, he talked about how much he loved this town,” she said. Mallory pulled back, blinking at her. “For the past year I’ve stared at his urn, asking why he was taken from me. We came out of the womb together, so how do I go through life missing my other half?”

“H-how did he die?”

“He drowned. Took some anxiety medicine that caused him to fall asleep in a hot tub.” Emmie rubbed her forehead, frowning. “What an utterly stupid way to die, and I was so mad at him. Mad at myself because I should’ve felt something, you know? Aren’t twins supposed to know each other’s feelings? I couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel him dying.”

“I’m glad you came here,” Mallory said. “I’m glad to know what happened. I can lay him to rest in my mind.”

Emmie thought for a moment. “I came here to Anchorridge Cove to be closer to him. If you’d like to come with me, I think I found the perfect place to scatter his ashes.”

“I’d like that.”

Emmie smiled and stood. “All right. I’ll get everything set up and tell you when as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Emmie.”

“You’re welcome.”

****

When Crew took his early morning jog, he noticed that Emmie wasn’t sitting in the deck chair. He quite liked having her watch him as she sipped her coffee. Sunlight shimmered on top of the waves and a cool breeze slid over his heated muscles. Dawn had only risen about twenty minutes earlier, casting long shadows on the sand.

He liked Anchorridge Cove. Nobody noticed him and the press hadn’t found where he’d gone. The publicist for the Archers team reported he was snorkeling in the Maldives, so no one suspected he was in Maine. It was a fantastic fake play.

When he finally made it back to his cottage, which had been booked under a pseudonym, he made a beeline to the bathroom for a nice, hot shower. He wrapped a towel around his hips just as the doorbell chimed. He had a feeling he knew who was there, and with a wicked grin went to the door.

“Who is it?” he called out.

“It’s Emmie,” she replied.

He unlocked the door and opened it, and Emmie’s expressive eyes widened as she took in his near-naked state.

She gulped “Y-you’re naked.”

“Not entirely.”

“That’s a real small, um, towel.”

“It’s the only thing that’s small.” He winked, and her face flushed scarlet.

“Perhaps I should come back—”

Before she could finish that thought, he gently gripped her wrist and pulled her inside, closing the door behind her. He grinned when she kept her gaze upward. He couldn’t resist teasing.

“Wanna help me pick out some clothes? And help put this towel away?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Uh. Sure.”

Her response surprised him. Crew took a step closer and rested his hands on her shoulders. Damn. His heart rate sped up like an Indianapolis Five Hundred racer. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he slowly pulled her into his body, giving her enough time to move away or resist if she didn’t want to kiss him. She did neither. Instead, she licked her lips and he was a goner.

He captured her lips, swiping his tongue across them, demanding they part. Hot. Wet. Sinful. It consumed him, and he wondered how this small slip of a woman overpowered every memory of anyone else. The years of women he’d enjoyed, the jersey chasers, simply vanished from his mind. It now focused only on her, Emmie, and he didn’t even know her last name. Knew nothing about her, but suddenly, somehow she’d stolen his attention.

Wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck, he kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Like his life depended on it. She took and gave back in equal parts of pleasure and desperation that coursed through his body. As they broke for air, he rested his forehead against hers.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered.

“Ditto.”

He chuckled. “Hopefully, by the time I dress, this damn hard-on deflates.”

“Sorry, not sorry.”

“Brat,” he said and kissed the top of her head. He turned to go back into his bedroom, grimacing as he adjusted himself. He grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt, dressing quickly, and picked up his baseball cap before rejoining her.

“The owner of the ice cream parlor called me and I went to see her this morning.”

“Really? What’d she say?”

“Her name is Mallory and she met my brother when she came to New York City on a tour. They spent the weekend together and then he came here to Anchorridge Cove. I think he was planning on moving here to be with her.”

He rested his hands on her shoulders. “He loved her.”

“Yeah, I think so. She definitely loved him. I could see it on her face. Hear it in her voice. She thought he abandoned her.”

“I’m glad she talked to you.”

“Me too,” Emmie said.

“Do you still want to trace his steps?”

“Absolutely,” she replied. “Also, I’d like to take his ashes out to the Atlantic. I think if I had to ask my brother where he’d want his ashes to be scattered, I’m pretty sure he’d say the ocean. He’ll ride the waves for the rest of eternity.”

“All right. I pick Thomas’s ashes up at the end of the week. How about we go then?”

“Perfect.”

He linked his fingers with hers. “Ready?”

She tugged on their connection and he glanced down at her. “Thank you for being with me.”

He nodded and kissed her gently on the mouth. “Let’s go find your brother’s memory.”