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“Three.”
“No shit,” I said. “So is she.”
“Really?” Logan straightened. “When’s her birthday?”
“May 18.”
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “So is Benji’s!”
My brows rose, and after comparing notes, we discovered Skye and Benji were brother and sister. It amazed me how small the world was, and I agreed easily when Logan said we should set up a playdate for them.
A playdate for the pups, and a double date for their parents was exactly my idea of a good time.
“Hey, have you seen the sisters?” I asked, remembering my true mission.
Logan waved a hand toward the water. “They gave up on corn hole when Owen and I beat them and decided to go for a swim.”
I raised a brow. “Owen is here?”
“Yeah, man!” Logan said. “He’s like one of the fam now. Isn’t that so wild? I’m friends withOwen Lawless, and my brother-in-law isBrent Jean.”
He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck, his slightly shaggy hair swishing around his head, reminding me strongly of the Golden Retriever at my feet.
I had bigger fish to fry, but that actually was a story I’d been dying to hear.
“Yeah, tell me about that,” I said, steering him to a couple metal chairs lined with overstuffed cushions pushed up to a large table with an umbrella stuck through the middle, providing us some much needed shade. “How exactly did that happen?”
Logan waved a hand dismissively. “My sister met him while she was in her third year of law school. They dated, fell in love, the whole thing. Now they’re married with a one year old and another on the way. Hey!” he said, perking up. “We should go to a Warriors’ game this season!”
I grinned widely. “I’d love that.”
As long as Amara hadn’t killed me first, and as long as she was by my side.
Almost the entire day had passed, the bulk of the partygoers dispersing unless they were directly related to the Delatous—and me and Owen—and I still hadn’t managed to get Amara alone. The effort she’d put into avoiding me would’ve been impressive if I weren’t so damn pissed off about it.
But now, we were heading down to the beach for the fireworks, and there was no way she’d miss those. Ambushing her there was my best—and last—bet.
The Delatou home sat on a cliff overlooking the northernmost point of the Old Mission. Apple Blossom Bay was about ten miles south of us, and until the nineties, the Delatou family had been in charge of the Independence Day Fireworks since they’d moved onto the peninsula and founded the winery in 1911. Now, there were two separate shows—one in town, and one out here.
I bided my time as the sun dipped toward the horizon, nursing a beer and shooting the shit with Owen as the volunteers raced up and down the long, L-shaped dock jutting from Leon and Lena’s beach, prepping the fireworks for the show that would take place once it was dark enough.
And when that moment came, when the first warningboomechoed over the water, letting us know we had about ten minutes until the show, I made my move, bidding Owen goodbye with a wink. He gave me a head nod in response, Skye dozing at his feet.
I headed to the sand, eyes zeroing in on the littlest Delatou.
“Brie!” I said, jogging up to greet her, helping her spread her blanket out on the sand.
“Hey, Cal,” she said slowly.
“Have you seen Amara?” I asked, cutting right to the chase.
“Oh,” she said, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger, eyes darting everywhere but toward me. “I think she went up to the house.”
“Brie…”
At last, she met my eyes, her expression pleading. “Don’t do this to me.”
“Where is she?”
