Zipping in just a hair under six feet, he was broad-shouldered and muscular with smooth dark skin and the kind of laugh that was contagious. His head was shaved, but he sported an impeccably trimmed beard.
“Trouble-making?” she scoffed, unzipping her coat. “I am a paragon of good behavior.”
She had a role to play, expectations to meet in this place. No one wanted to see a trembling, afraid-of-the-damn-dark Remi Ford. They wanted the grown-up version of the girl who’d once filled a seasonal fudge shop server’s bed with horse manure after he got too handsy with her friend.
“How many times you been arrested, Remi?” Duncan Firth, grizzled local legend, called from the dart board.
“That was in my wayward youth, Duncan,” she shot back with a wink. “Besides, unlike some others, I haven’t wrecked a snowmobile this season.”
The man coughed out a laugh.
Darius delivered the margarita he’d mixed to a man in a Michigan State sweatshirt and ducked under the service bar. In three steps, he had her swept up in a bear hug, the sleeves of his parrot and flamingo shirt threatening to rip under the strain of bulging biceps.
She returned the hug and pressed a noisy kiss to his cheek. “God, it’s good to see you!” And it was. No matter what had transpired between Remi and his younger sister Audrey—her former best friend and Brick Callan’s ex-wife—the smiling, built bartender had remained friendly toward her.
A resounding crash from the bar had Darius setting her on her feet again. “You break it, you bought it, man,” he called, eyeing his partner.
Brick Callan’s surly expression as he unloaded clean glasses from the rack was comically juxtaposed against his cheerful parrot and flamingo shirt.
She gave the man a little salute, then turned her back on him to focus on Darius. Of all the tiki bars on the island, she had to walk into his. “I thought he wasn’t working tonight.”
Darius shrugged muscled shoulders. Remi thought she heard the fabric of his shirt whimper. “Said he needed a distraction. You two aren’t gonna get all snippy with each other and ruin my island vibes, are you? When are you gonna outgrow this whole big brother-little sister thing?”
“Ew! We do not have a big brother-little sister thing.” The idea made her shudder. As complicated as her feelings were for the grumpy monument to all things masculine, none of them included anything that fell in the realm of sisterly.
“I’ve never seen two adults rub each other that wrong for that long,” he mused.
It was time for a subject change before she got to thinking about Brick rubbing her in any way, shape, or form. “I see you’ve quit the gym and let yourself get all flabby,” she said, drilling a finger into his rock-hard stomach.
“Don’t you dare say the ‘f’ word in my presence. I’ve got a reason to stay in shape.”
“A hot manly reason?” she asked, interest piqued.
He grinned down at the toes of his sneakers. “Remember Ken?”
“Three summers ago Ken? Hot and heavy all summer long Ken? Call me if you’re ever in Colorado Ken? Hmm. Nope. Doesn’t ring any bells.”
“Smartass,” Darius said with affection. “As of last spring, Colorado Ken is now Mackinac Ken. He bought the barbershop and moved in with a hot bartender.” The man blew on his knuckles and rubbed them against his shirt.
Remi slugged him in the shoulder. “Shut up! Are you serious?”
He managed to look both embarrassed and ecstatic.
“We kept in touch. I flew out there for New Year’s Eve, and the rest is history.”
“Well holy shit, Dare. I’m thrilled for you two!”
“You should be. We’re amazing, and you should have dinner with us so we can all catch up. Starting with how that happened.” He reached out and tapped her cast, which was visible thanks to the sleeve surgery she’d performed on the thermal shirt in a fit of frustration.
“Yes to dinner. I’ll show up with wine, dessert, and a thousand questions. You won’t be able to get rid of me,” she promised.
He grinned down at her. “It’s really good to have you back, kiddo.”
“It’s good to be back.” This time she meant it.
“Now, what can I get you?”
“I’m meeting my sister. Can you make me something with all of the alcohol? And I guess a merlot for her?”
“Kimber’s still off wine since the migraines,” he said, waving to a couple by the fireplace as they bundled up to leave.
Migraines? She picked through her memory banks and came up dry. “Okay. Then one of whatever she usually drinks.”
“You got it, kiddo.”
Snagging the table the couple had abandoned, she put her back to the bar so she wouldn’t have to watch Man Mountain smolder at her all night. She blew out a breath and congratulated herself on not acting like a terrified woman mid-nervous breakdown, then realized her foot was tapping out a frantic beat against the floor.
She jumped at a sudden bark of laughter behind her and pinched her eyes closed.
Coming apart at the seams was not an option at this point. Besides, if she was going to have a mini-breakdown, she wouldn’t do it in front of Brick Freaking Callan…who was most definitely staring at her right now. She hated being so stupidly aware of the man.
“You’re here.”
Remi nearly fell out of her chair before realizing that her sister had materialized next to the table.
“I thought I’d beat you here,” Kimber said, shrugging out of a hunter green parka. She wore an ivory hat over her hair that she’d loosely braided. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, but the winter wind had tinged her cheeks a delicate pink. She looked tired, pretty, and annoyed.
Remi comforted herself with the fact that it hadn’t been anything she’d done. At least not this time.
“I was on time for once,” she said as Kimber slipped into the chair across from her.
“Ladies.” Darius of the impeccable timing appeared with their drinks.
“My hero,” Kimber said, feigning a swoon.
“Damn. It is nice to see the Ford sisters reunited,” he said.
“It’s good to be in the same place,” Remi agreed.
Kimber’s response was cut off by her phone vibrating on the table. Remi caught a glimpse of Kyle’s name on the screen before her sister hit ignore and flipped the phone over.
“If you two need anything, wave me down. Specials are on the board,” Darius said, pointing at a chalkboard that looked like a third-grader had attacked it with chalk.
Neither man, it turned out, had the artistic talent for lettering. Their barely legible specials boards had become part of the lure of the place.
When he left, Remi sampled her All the Alcohol drink. It tasted like a tropical version of a Long Island iced tea. Delicious and deadly. “So, Darius was saying something about you getting migraines,” she began.
Kimber rolled her eyes. “What about them?”
She was out of sync, like she was dancing just off the beat and couldn’t quite catch up with her sister’s metronome. They’d always been a little out of step, but when they were growing up, Kimber had made an effort to help her catch up.
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling awkward. “I guess, when did they start?”