It gave Ford great satisfaction that he’d been able to give that to her, that right this minute she was probably on the deck of the Palm Springs home he’d bought her, sipping iced tea and watching the mountains. It was her favorite pastime after cooking for him on the rare occasions he made it down there to visit, that is. She’d marvel at his height and build every single time he walked in her door, as if she couldn’t quite believe he’d grown up from that scrawny, undersized kid he’d once been.

Ford couldn’t blame her. He’d managed to live through his teens, and then his twenties in spite of himself, and was now working on his thirties and being a grownup. On accepting his mistakes and living with no regrets, though his biggest regret was heavy on his mind lately.

Tara.

“Earth to Ford.” Sawyer Thompson waved a hand in Ford’s face. “You with us? Or do you need a moment alone?”

“Thought tonight was your night off.” Sawyer was big and broad as a mountain, and could be as intimidating as hell-unless you’d grown up with him and knew that he wouldn’t watch any Disney/Pixar flick because they made him cry like a chick. Ford poured him a Coke-Sawyer’s standard order when he was on duty.

“Got called in.” Sawyer’s smile faded. “Unexpected trouble out at Horn Crest.”

“Hang gliders again?” Last time, the hang gliders had turned out to be Chloe, Lance, and Tucker, and they’d been arrested for trespassing when they’d landed in Mrs. Azalea’s prized field of rhododendrons. Lance was on a mission to accumulate as many crazy adventures as he could before his cystic fibrosis caught up with him, and Chloe and Lance’s brother Tucker were dedicated to assisting him in his stupidity.

For some reason, this drove Sawyer insane.

Ford was just glad to see that it ran in the family, the unique ability of the three sisters to drive men right over the edge of sanity.

“Not hang gliders this time,” Sawyer said, sounding relieved. Chloe was well-liked in town, and every time she ran into trouble and Sawyer had to deal with it, he got the backlash.

Ford knew that Sawyer liked order. Calm order. Which meant that Sawyer and Chloe were oil and water. But like oil and water, they ended up together a lot. Karma was a bitch with a good sense of humor.

“It was a group of teenagers,” Sawyer said. “Brought them home to their parents and caught hell from one of the mothers. She told me I’d be a better use of her tax money if I was out catching real bad guys.” With a sigh, he sank to a stool and accepted the Coke. “And what are you doing here? I thought you were going to do that race in the Gulf this weekend.”

Ford shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

Sawyer lifted a brow. “You losing your edge?”

“What? No.”

“What then? Over the hill already at thirty-four?”

“Shut up. You’re the one who threw your back out playing foosball last month.”

Sawyer scowled. “Hey, that was an amazing play. Genius even.”

“So was your having to spend the rest of the weekend on the couch whining, and then desk duty for a full week.”

“So?” Sawyer said. “It got me some great bedside treatment from the women.”

Ford snorted. “What women?”

“Hey, I have women.”

“Women on porn sites don’t count.”

“You’re being an asshole,” Sawyer said mildly. “Another sign of age. Should I tell Ciera to save you a spot in the retirement home? And get you a prescription for Viagra?”

Ciera was Ford’s sister, a nurse who worked at a senior center in Seattle. “You’re older than me,” Ford reminded him.

“By two months, which is offset by the fact that I’m better looking. I’m also not picking a fight just to be an asshole.”

Ford blew out a breath. “I’m not racing because I didn’t feel like traveling.”

“And?”

“And Jax is too nice to our regulars, and I needed to stick around to keep him in line.”

“And?”

“And…” Shit. He had nothing.

“Admit it,” Sawyer said. “You’re not going anywhere because Tara’s ex-husband has shown up, and you don’t want to lose your place.”

Ford shoved his fingers through his hair. “Yeah.”

Lucille sidled up to the bar. She was in her pink sweats with her crazy white hair looking like a Q-tip. Her rheumy blue eyes landed on Ford. “A vodka on the rocks.” She tapped the bar. “So how’s it going with the Steel Magnolia?”

Ford handed her the drink. “What?”

“Don’t play stupid, honey. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Actually, it does,” Sawyer said helpfully.

Ford took away his soda.

“Hey.”

“Tara,” Lucille said to Ford. “I’m talking about Tara.” She tossed back the vodka like someone who’d been doing it for a gazillion years. “Her ex is here. He’s a real live celebrity, you know.”

Ford sighed. He knew.

Lucille nudged him. “He’s got the edge on you, boy.”

Ford began to wish he didn’t have a thing against drinking while serving. “We’re not discussing this, Lucille.”

“Well, maybe you’re not, but everyone else is. You need to look sharp. Sharp.” She reached over the bar and jabbed him in the gut with her bony finger. “Are you listening?”

“Yeah, I’m listening.” Ford rubbed his belly. “And ouch.”

“Sharp, I tell you!”

Like he didn’t know that. Like that hadn’t always been the problem, that he wasn’t exactly up to Tara’s standards. Something that had been slammed home to him anew now that he’d actually met Logan and seen the slick, polished ex up close. Not only that, he’d sensed a still-obvious chemistry between Logan and Tara.

Sawyer was taking all this in with his usual quiet calm. “What makes everyone think our boy here is interested in the girl?” he asked Lucille.

She cackled and slapped down her empty shot glass, indicating she wanted another. “Oh, he’s interested.”

Sawyer looked at Ford, studying him thoughtfully. After a beat, a slight smile curved his lips. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Thanks, man,” Ford said.

Lucille smacked Ford upside the head.

“Okay,” he said. “Stop that!”

“You need to stop. Stop messing around. It’s time to get serious now, Ford. For once in your life.”

What made this all worse was that in a way she was right. Ford knew what people saw when they looked at him-a guy who’d never had a serious commitment in his life, except maybe to sailing. And other than Tara and that long-ago summer, he’d never really been with a woman with whom he’d truly been friends as well as lovers. In his mind, the two were separate things. His life went day to day. His sailing. The bar. Friends. Sure he was good to his grandma but she didn’t require anything much from him. Money was easy to give once you had it.

The truth was for the past six months now, he’d been… restless. Unsettled. Unhappy.

Six months. Since the day Tara had come back to Lucky Harbor. Which was especially stupid because neither of them wanted to go down that road again.

And yet there was something undeniable between them, something far more than what had happened in her bed. Something that made him itchy to both run like hell and go after her at the same time.

The door of the bar opened and in strolled… shit.

Logan Perrish.

He was dressed more for a hot nightclub than a smalltown bar, and looking pretty damn expensive while he was at it. Ford wanted to hate him on principle but the guy stopped to sign an autograph for anyone who wanted one. Hard to hate a guy like that. When Logan got to the bar, he was clearly surprised at the sight of Ford. “Hey. You’re a bartender?”

“Yep. A drink?”

“Sure.” Logan scanned the list of beers available on the blackboard behind Ford. “I’ve heard about something called a… Ginger Goddess?”

From the next barstool, Sawyer grimaced. “You’ve gotta be within fifty feet of a swimming pool in order to drink a fruity, girlie-ass drink like that. Otherwise, they revoke your guy card.”