Chapter 4

Dec

The woman was gorgeous in a frenzied, off-her-rocker kind of way. The downpour had ensured that her clothes were plastered to her body. Normally I liked a woman with a bit more curves, and Kenna Cugly—no, Kenna Ryan—had missed a few meals on more than a few occasions. The hole in her blouse was interesting, and somehow tantalizing, maybe because her outfit was so prim and proper I wondered if Ms. Ryan was a stereotypical virgin librarian. I knew that couldn't be right, though, at the mention of a husband.

When she'd walked out of the room with her nose in the air and the hair pulled back so tight she looked like a former ballet dancer, Mel had looked at me, cheeks ruddy and eyes wide. He looked as confused as I felt. How was Maeve, vivacious, eccentric, force-of-nature Maeve, related to that disagreeable woman?

"Really, Maeve?" I said to the dissipating clouds outside of the lawyer's office. The rain had stopped but the heat was rising fast, making the town feel like the inside of a wet sauna. I cranked the air-conditioning in the truck and pointed it toward home.

We'd spent hours talking about her estate, her impending death, and her thoughts of the afterlife over the last few months. Not once had Maeve mentioned she'd be tying me to her boat club posthumously.

And to her niece.

I pulled into my driveway and saw a figure on Maeve's front porch. When the person stomped their foot and nearly knocked over their own suitcase when they threw their hands in the air, I recognized her by her disgruntled nature. Kenna.

My new neighbor.

I put the truck in park with a sigh and headed over the row of bushes on foot. If she couldn't get that front door open, she'd eventually be banging on my door for help, seeing as I was the only neighbor for at least a half mile. Might as well save us both some time. Kenna stood on the porch, hands in fists by her side, staring at the door like her gaze alone might magically make it open.

"You gotta pull it to you while you unlock it," I drawled, leaning against the post that held Maeve's carved initials. "Then put your shoulder into it."

Kenna whipped around, eyes as wide open as her mouth. Her hair was beginning to dry now, lightening up into a deep auburn brown. Little wisps around her face that escaped the bun prison had begun to curl. Her lower lip stuck out just enough to look like she was perpetually pouting. I suddenly wanted to nibble on it just to see what she'd do. Clearly, I was dehydrated and losing my mind.

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?"

She'd punch me right in the nuts if I even thought about getting close enough to kiss her, I was sure of it. I straightened away from the post and gestured to my truck. "I live next door, sugar."

Kenna stood even taller, her ripped blouse looking like it had had one hell of a day. "I'm no one's sugar."

I smirked. "Vinegar, then?"

She spun around and inserted the key in the door once again, dismissing me entirely. I noticed she pulled this time like I'd suggested, and the thing popped right open when she pushed on it. Her hand reached back for the suitcase handle but she didn't bother to look back. "Good day, Mr. Boggs."

"It's Dec," I informed her backside.

I knew the moment she saw the inside of the house for the first time. Her wet shoe hovered in the air, undecided if it wanted to take that step across the threshold into Maeve's house. I could smell the perfumed potted plants from here. Envision the avocado-green appliances and Formica countertops that took some getting used to. Feel the arctic blast of air-conditioning. Maeve had been old school when old school was definitely not cool.

Kenna let go of the suitcase handle, put her foot back down on the porch, and somehow shuffled sideways to sag heavily onto the wooden rocking chair that practically had a butt print of Maeve carved into the seat. Kenna slumped into the chair, an uncoordinated mess. Her skull made a thunk as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

"Ms. Ryan?" I squinted, wondering if she was okay. I was hoping she'd call up a taxi and head back home, leaving everything to me as it always should have been. Not because I wanted Maeve's money, but because it sure would be easier that way. "Kenna?"

The chair began to rock, ever so slightly and then increasing into a manic back and forth that was making me dizzy. Her fingers ran over the little charms hanging from the silver chain around her wrist. Kenna's pale skin had gone white, and if I wasn't mistaken, there was a fine sheen of sweat on her brow. She probably wasn't used to the heat out here in the tropics. It could take a man out if he wasn't careful.

"Let's get you and this suitcase inside, hmm?" I grabbed the handle and began to walk it to the front door. Kenna's eyes flickered open, already pulling into a frown. "You have to be hot in that skirt and blouse. Even with a shoulder vent."

Her head lolled in my direction. I prepared for a testy reply that would singe the hair all over my body. Instead, her frown morphed into something that resembled a crying baby I'd once seen at an airport. I'd cringed at the hideous sight, and believe me, it looked no better on a grown woman. Her eyes filled with tears, and I'd seen enough.

I shoved the suitcase through the door and reached down to grab Kenna's arm. With a hearty yank, I got her to her feet. She let out a yelp, but at least it wasn't a sob. I hated when women cried. They were messy and unpredictable when they leaked. But I loved Maeve and that meant I owed her. If she put both of us in her will, she clearly wanted me to show her niece enough kindness to get her on her own two feet, just like Maeve had done for me.

I held Kenna's arm and put my other hand on her back, steering her into the house. "I know it looks like you just stepped back in time, but the bones are good."

Kenna's head swiveled to the kitchen on our right and she gasped. I felt the vibration of it in my hand where I touched her back. "My God…"

I helped her to one of the antique dining chairs Maeve had re-covered a couple years ago. The print featured bright pink flamingos on a blue background. "Maybe you can get a handyman to fix some things while you're here?"

Kenna's head swept left and right, taking in the place. From her vantage point, she had a view into the kitchen and the main living room where Maeve had the majority of her plants. Kenna's hands gripped the table so hard her knuckles turned white. The place really was a bit of a dump. I'd offered countless times to help Maeve clean the place. Or even just update some things, but she'd refused. Said her plants liked their environment.

Kenna let out a weird gasp that kind of sounded like laughter and a bit like a sob. Then her forehead hit the table and I lurched forward, hand extended. It hovered there, unsure what to do. I feared she was on the edge of having a psychotic break. Her shoulders began to shake and then her whole body got into it. The first sob escaped and her hands came to her head, clutching her hair in a grip that had to hurt.

I snatched my hand back and inched away. I'd never seen someone break down like this, and I had a feeling under normal circumstances, Kenna Ryan would not want me here witnessing it. If she wasn't so high maintenance and liable to snap my head off, I'd pat her back and reassure her that everything would be fine. As it was, I was afraid to creep back outside lest I make a noise to remind her of my presence.

As the sobs continued, I waffled on what to do. Sneak out and leave her in despair? Try to console the wild animal and hope I didn't die in the process? I shook my head and looked up at the ceiling that sported a large water spot from when the roof had leaked two years ago.

Really, Maeve? You knew I'd be pissed about being tied to this woman, so you didn't tell me about your will. I hope you're laughing your ass off up there.

"I don't…have a…home…" Kenna wailed, hiccuping her way through actual words. "That asshole…diamonds! Bear genitals for kids! Even my tires!"

I grimaced, wondering what the hell this woman was going on about. Was she on drugs? That had to be it. All those crazy Californians were on drugs these days. Pretty sure Maeve had mentioned her sister and niece lived in San Francisco, the epicenter of drug usage running rampant in the streets. I should probably check her luggage for needles. We didn't need that kind of influence here in Sunshine Key.

With another indecipherable wail ringing in my ears, I edged toward the open door. Another few wails and I was outside, rushing down the porch steps and back over to my own property. Safely on my property I glanced back at the house, remembering all the times I'd sat over there with Maeve. She'd always be my fondest memory of this town.

"Well, fuck." I slid the phone out of my back pocket and hit speed dial on one of my saved numbers. "Yeah, can I order a cheese pizza to be delivered to Maeve's? Put it on my usual credit card, please, along with a fifty percent tip."

For all I knew, that crazy woman was vegan and would toss the cheesy goodness back in the delivery guy's face, but I couldn't leave her over there unfed. It went against everything Maeve had taught me. She never failed to pull out a snack when I was over there and just this once I could return the favor.

With that settled and karma back on my good side, I headed into my own house where the air didn't smell like dirt and Miracle-Gro. It also didn't have a wailing woman, though her sobs still rang in my ears.

Why were all the pretty ones off their damn rocker?

There was a song lyric there, I could just feel it. I grabbed my guitar and had a seat in my screened-in back porch. A few strums of chords later and I found a rhythm, playing around with lyrics and watching the rainwater drop from the roofline into my flower beds. The sun had come out full force again, just in time for it to sink into the ocean that spanned out behind my house. If Kenna ever got her head off that dining table, she might see that Maeve had a view just as gorgeous out her back slider. Real estate was pricey around here for oceanfront properties, Formica countertops or not.

Today had certainly not turned out like I thought. I was now the not-so-proud co-owner of Captain's Boat Club and sole caretaker of a crazed next-door neighbor when all I wanted was to be left alone.

There'd be another storm tomorrow afternoon but you could bet your ass I'd be out on my boat before the rain clouds rolled in. Anything to get me far, far away from Kenna. Even for just a few blessed hours.

An incoming text vibrated my phone.

Harley: Checking in, brother. Heard the niece showed up and she wasn't all too happy with you. What's that about?

I didn't bother responding to my best friend. I needed a few short hours to not think about Kenna Ryan.