The marimba player was into showboating to the crowd while I vainly tried to locate Lou. Almost unconsciously, I stopped my search and scanned the deck for the looker. But no Lady Luck. Worse, my beer was still upstairs. I started toward the watering hole and nearly shed my skin when a hand snaked out and grabbed my arm. Hard.

“This guy rescued Ian and brought him to the hospital. Might have saved his life.” The trembling fingers digging deep into my biceps belonged to Paul Brown.

“Hey pal, didn’t mean to startle you,” Brown roared over the music, a sloppy grin on his thin, pale face. No question what he’d been doing since his fancy dance.

“That’s okay, Paul. When you’re on your way for a drink everything else gets pushed aside,” I said, thinking about the coffee machine in the hospital as I pulled my arm away.

Paul tilted his silver head deciding whether I was taunting before introducing me to a tired looking, short-haired woman with a pinched mouth, wary eyes, and little makeup. “Anne,” Paul said. “This is Matt Jacobs.”

“Jacob. Without the s.”

“Sorry with a capital S. Anne, this here is Matt Jacob, Ian’s savior. With a small s.”

Anne’s mouth relaxed ever so slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jacob,” she said, her stern face softening.

“Matt, please.”

“Matt. We really appreciate what you did for Ian. Paul’s just had too much to drink.” Anne stopped speaking and stood looking blankly around the deck. “Can we leave yet?” she asked abruptly, turning toward Paul and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Which he promptly shook off. “It’s not even eleven.”

“We’ve been for hours already, and I didn’t want to come at all,” she said.

“I could say ‘you never come,’ but I won’t,” he slurred.

Anne jerked her head as if slapped. “You bastard,” she hissed walking away.

I expected Paul to follow but he just grunted, “Lauren’s parties are always tough on her.”

I shrugged and plotted an escape route, but it wasn’t going to be easy. Mister Nice Guy had my arm again.

“Every year we go through the same fucking argument,” he said shaking his head. “You’d think after all this time she might loosen up.”

I hoped he was talking about Lauren’s party and not their sex life.

“You were on your way to the bar, weren’t you?” he asked his eyes suddenly opaque.

I nodded glumly.

“I’ll keep you company.”

“Thanks.”

I caught another look, but he wasn’t listening to his better instincts because he matched my steps across the weathered wood. At least he was quiet until we were served.

“Just a beer? This is damn good scotch.”

“You sound surprised,” I said. And generous with your ex-wife’s refreshments, I thought.

“This year Lauren outdid herself. And without putting her hand into my pocket.” Paul grinned through his glare. “Your father-in-law must have some money.”

“He does okay .” Maybe Paul had followed his instincts. I was forever a magnet for unhappy drunks. Had to do with growing up inside my father’s tavern. No matter how many years passed, I guess whiskey was still in my sweat. I felt my mouth water while I watched him drain his drink and signal for another. “Doesn’t sound like you enjoy contributing.”

Paul shrugged. “What the hell, Lauren makes it her business to keep the family together. It would have been easy for everyone to go their separate ways.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Shipping manager for a plastic company. You know, “Today’s Tupperware, Tomorrow’s Antique.” Wish they were worth something now. When you have children every penny flies. Not a big money job, but I have plenty of spare time.”

“Your kids seem pretty old to be costing you.”

An uncomfortable look crossed his face. “Kids always cost. Anne’s daughter Heather recently moved in with us. Can’t charge her room and board, can I?” Paul waved his hand dismissively. “I suppose it’s better than having them scattered across the country.”

I took a long draw from my bottle. “You do all right with this extended friends and family, don’t you?”

Paul ran his hand through his tousled silver hair. “Like I said,” his eyes hardening, “it’s a way to keep everyone together.” A sour smile wrapped around the rim of his glass. “Anyway, I’m used to it.” He paused, “You find us difficult to understand, don’t you?” He stopped, rocked unsteadily on his feet, then added, “That reminds me, I owe you an apology for the night at the hospital. Wasn’t on my game. Lauren and I do better than that, much better.” He grit his teeth and reached out to grasp the table.

“You want a chair?”

“Nah. I need to find Anne and get the fuck home before I do something stupid. Let me tell you about kids, Jacob. Trouble never ends. Heather back in the house, Ian in the hospital.” Paul killed his drink and planted the glass on the bar. “The only one I count on is Alexis.”

He hadn’t mentioned Stephen but I kept my mouth shut. Despite his sloppy self-pity, I almost felt sorry for him. He seemed like a guy who spent his entire life trying to catch up to the next paycheck. Three kids—four, if you included the Heywoods—meant a lot of hard running to keep from riding in reverse. Besides, a lifetime sniffing plastic ought to allow for bitter.

I was about to offer to find his lady when the sky suddenly caught fire; my bare-bellied beauty was approaching our end of the bar. Paul noticed me staring over his shoulder, turned and, for the first time since we’d been together, grinned with genuine, unadulterated pleasure.

“Allie, my girl, I was just talking about you. Matt, this is my daughter Alexis.”

Unable to talk, I nodded my greeting and noticed her likeness to Lauren.

“I’m surprised you can speak and stand at the same time, Dad.” Her voice was husky and affectionate.

Alexis’s proximity dried my mouth and wet the rest of my skin. Asian eyes, high cheekbones, and a drop dead body. Inviting. The genetic best of each parent rolled into a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

I felt like a teenager; her sensual, exotic beauty knocked my socks. For one quick moment the feeling reminded me of my first impression of Boots. A moment I instantly suppressed.

“Alexis, meet the newest member of the entourage.” Paul turned to me. “He calls us an extended family but it’s really Lauren and the rest of us.” His daughter’s arrival lent him a little less hang-dog, a little more overt aggression.

“We know what you think, Dad. Now, how about a nice, large cup of coffee?”

“You’re worried about me,” Paul smiled drunkenly.

“I’m worried about Annie,” Alexis teased. “You’re too big for her to carry home.”

“Allie, you know she hates to be called Annie.”

“And I’m not too fond of Allie, but that doesn’t stop you.” Alexis walked a couple of steps toward the bartender and pointed to the giant coffee urn. “Black,” she ordered.

I considered making it two, but eyeballing Alexis’s body called for a cold one.

“Now, who are you?” Alexis asked after handing Paul his coffee.

“Sorry.” Paul lifted his nose from the Styrofoam. His hand trembled and he dribbled some of the hot liquid over his fingers. This was one unlucky guy when it came to coffee on the go. “Matt Jacob, Lou’s son-in-law. The guy who rescued Ian.”

“I didn’t know Lou had a daughter,” Alexis said.

“She’s been dead for a long time,” I answered for the second time that night, this time waiting for the inevitable loss of breath and jolt of anger. But a save by Paul pulled me off the cliff.

“He’s also the private detective who’s ’s been checking on Lauren’s spooky stalker,” Paul chuckled.

“She doesn’t quit, does she?” Alexis grimaced.

“You know your mother,” Paul said, a touch of anger in his tone.

Alexis tried to change the subject. “Why don’t we find Anne before you say something you’ll regret.”

“I’m done with regrets,” Paul boasted, suggesting the opposite.

Alexis took his arm. “Then let’s make sure you don’t create any new ones. You stay right here,” she called over her shoulder as she helped her father. “You got lost once already.”

I didn’t know what she meant, but wanted to. Enough to root me right where I was. Actually, just flexible enough to bellow to the bartender for a bourbon neat. Underneath my excitement was a hint of guilty discomfort—a hint I wanted to ignore.

I didn’t have long to wait. Alexis returned with a brisk, hip-shifting stroll, and an emphatic shake of her thick curls. “He doesn’t get drunk all that often,” she said apologetically.

“No problem.” I was relieved to discover the bourbon unlocked my tongue. “Would you like something yourself?”

“That would be great. Bombay Sapphire and tonic with an extra lime. Have you met everybody?”

The marimba was on hold which made listening to her purr a pleasure. “I don’t know who you mean by everybody. I’ve met Stephen, Heather, Vivian, and Anne. Now you.”

“And you’ve already met Ian,” Alexis said directly. “I guess you know the whole cast of characters.”

I nodded and we lapsed into silence until the bartender returned with our order.

“Fetching Ian must have been difficult,” she said after a quick swallow.

“Nah,” I smiled. “Now Vivian, that was difficult.”

A dazzling white grin split her angular features, driving her high cheekbones up another notch. “How bad was she?”

“Well, she didn’t have any trouble expressing her opinions.”

“It’s the price we pay. If Vivian’s not on her pills she’s pretty loopy. But then, everyone in our family is loopy.”

“You too?”

Alexis flashed her gleaming teeth. “Of course.”

I lit a cigarette.

“Does that make you nervous?” she asked.

“I was nervous before I got here.”

“Why?”

“My intro to your clan has been a little ‘roundabout.” As was our conversation. If it weren’t, I’d be running my fingers across her naked midriff.

“We’re not a very straightforward group of people. Certainly not straight.”

“That part’s fine,” I said, trying, but failing to push my prurient aside.

Alexis made a sour face as the marimba man returned to his instrument. “Hello south of the border, goodbye conversation. Let’s get out of here.”

“Leave?” I don’t know what hit first: understanding, desire, or reluctance.

“Sure.”

“Where do you want to go?” I stalled.

“Wherever my convertible takes us.”

I drained the last of my drink. “I have my car here.”

“We’ll come back for it.”

Alexis turned and said something to the bartender who handed her a bottle of champagne and two long stemmed plastic glasses. Without a backward glance she worked her way through the crowd toward the outside stairs while I hesitated. What the fuck was I doing sneaking off with Lauren Rowe’s daughter?