Of how broken Donovan, himself, was.
Yeah, he had dizzy spells. They were happening more frequently, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it because his brain was Swiss cheese.
When he didn’t respond, Zak turned to study the beach with a faint smile. “Lots of memories here.”
Donovan followed his gaze. The beach hadn’t changed much since they partied here as kids. It was a fingernail of sand tucked against almost vertical cliffs. Someone long ago had dug the fire pit and pulled large driftwood logs up around it to use as seats. He could still see Darcy sitting on one of the logs, her arms crossed, her eyes flashing with hatred. That had always been the problem with her—her line between love and hate was razor-thin, and it was impossible to know which side you stood on at any given time.
Now, ashes smoldered in the pit, sending up a thin curl of smoke. High schoolers had been here partying last night, but there was no other sign of their presence. That was one of the only hard and fast rules of Hidden Beach. You packed out what you brought in.
“Almost fifteen years,” Zak said after several beats of silence.
“How the fuck would you know?” Anger heated his blood, and he welcomed it. Yeah, anger was so much better than sorrow and regret. It was easier. Always had been. He supposed that was the problem with him and why he and Darcy had been doomed from the start. “Weren’t you off saving the world or some shit when it happened?”
Zak had graduated the year before and was already an Army Ranger deployed overseas when Darcy died, or else he might have been a suspect, too.
Or probably not.
Ash Rawlings, the third member of their Terrible Trio, had still been around town at the time—hell, he’d even been at the party that night with his high school girlfriend—and nobody ever considered him a suspect, despite his fling with Darcy the previous summer. But Zak and Ash were both from upstanding, well-respected families. Zak’s mom was the high school principal, and his dad was the history teacher and the lacrosse coach who led the Wildcats to the state championship multiple times. Ash was the heir of the town’s founding family. The two of them always got away with everything, receiving little more than a slap on the wrist for their teenage troublemaking.
Donovan, as the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, never had that luxury. When they got a scolding, he got a beating. When they were grounded, he was tossed in county jail. It was part of the reason he’d grown to hate his former best friends over the years.
Zak’s lips flattened into a grim line. “C’mon, Van. Everyone knows about Darcy’s murder.”
Donovan growled. “That fucking podcast.”
“It started long before the podcast, buddy.”
“Yeah, but it’s stirring up all this shit again.”
Zak said nothing. He just stared out over the waves.
“I didn’t kill her.”
“Never thought you did.”
“Then you’re the only one in this goddamn town to think that. If you want people to fork out money at this fundraiser shindig, you’d be better off not inviting the town pariah.”
Zak finally glanced over at him again, one brow arched. “So why come back here at all? You could’ve lived anywhere after your medical discharge. You didn’t have to come home.”
Because his mom needed him. But Zak had been estranged from his family until recently and wouldn’t understand that reasoning. “Because I’m a masochist.”
“Then think of the charity ball tonight as another form of self-torture.”
Fuck, he’d walked right into that, hadn’t he? He stood and brushed sand off the back of his jeans. “I’m not wearing a costume.”
Zak grinned. “Oh, yeah, you are.”
chapter two
Tonight was the night.
Sasha LeBlanc was going to seduce a man for the first time in her life.
After years of crushing on Sheriff Ash Rawlings, she was finally going to make her move. Anna Hendricks, her best friend and Ash’s twin sister, convinced her it was the only way anything would ever happen because Ash was too focused on keeping the citizens of Lost County safe to think about dating.
A hard worker. A good man.
He checked all the right boxes—kind, stable, good family, steady job. It was just a bonus he was also gorgeous. Stormy blue eyes. A square, too-serious face. He was from a long line of cattle ranchers and had the lean, strong body of a cowboy. She loved when he helped his sister around the rescue because he always rolled up his sleeves, showing off muscular arms sprinkled with dark hair. She had a weakness for men with sexy arms. He also had nice lips, the bottom fuller than the top, and the few times she’d seen him smile, he’d stolen her breath. While his sister’s hair was a flaming copper, his neatly trimmed light brown hair and beard glinted with just a hint of red in the sun.
The perfect man.
At least, he was according to the life plan Sasha had meticulously plotted out for herself. She’d accomplished everything else on her list, so it was time to find a good husband and have a family, and she couldn’t think of anyone better for the role than Ash Rawlings.
Luckily, Anna happened to agree and had been trying to play matchmaker for over a year now.
And tonight was finally the night.
Sasha studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. The silky black dress was like nothing she’d ever worn before. It shimmered faintly purple every time she moved, had a slit in the curve-hugging skirt almost up to her hip, and another plunged alarmingly between her breasts. A sheer cape spilled down her back from the shoulders and also sparkled with every movement.
Would Ash like it? He seemed like a very reserved man. A gentleman. Maybe she was showing too much skin.
“I don’t know. Is it too much?”
Anna looked up from the tabletop mirror she was using to do her hair. She’d curled her copper hair and pulled it back into a complicated knot secured with jeweled pins that matched her deep blue dress. The elaborate blue and gold feathered bird mask she planned to wear sat on the vanity beside her and seemed to wink at Sasha.
“Honestly,” Anna said after a contemplative beat, “I don’t think it’s enough.”
“I don’t want Ash to think I’m—” She broke off and glanced at Anna’s seventeen-year-old foster daughter, Bella, who was sorting through a makeup kit on the bed. She was never sure how much she could say around the girl. Bella had lived a hard life and was more world wary than most teenagers, but she was still just a kid. Should they really be discussing this in front of her?
Bella smirked. “You don’t want him to think you’re what, sexy? Well, you should because when he sees you in that dress, his head’s going to explode.”
Flushing, Sasha turned back to the mirror. “I don’t want him to think I’m easy.”
“You’re trying to seduce him, right?”
Sasha looked at her best friend for help, but Anna only shrugged.
“She’s not wrong, Sash. My brother is a lot of things, but he’s not a monk. He likes easy. Prefers it, in fact.”
Was her face on fire? Because it felt like it was on fire. She was so far out of her comfort zone with the dress. With seduction. With… this whole plan. But she wasn’t going to find a husband while buried in work at her vet clinic, though she would rather express a hundred anal glands—easily her most hated part of the job—than go to a party and seduce a man.