“Which is why you’re coming out with me,” Spencer insisted.

“Ugh. Fine. But if your brother picks a fight with me, I’m not backing down.”

“I’d be disappointed if you did. You might want to shower first.”

* * *

While not a national holiday, March 1 had special significance on Mackinac. It meant only another month of long, dreary winter before the seasonal workers and tourists began to return to the island in April. The Tiki Tavern made a tradition of celebrating the first with a boozy country Caribbean mash-up party that ran from opening until close.

By the time Remi arrived on Spencer’s arm, the place was packed with people. It was wall-to-wall Hawaiian shirts and flannels. Despite the chaos, Brick still looked up from the bar when she walked in, his gaze locking on hers like a heat-seeking missile. Like he’d been waiting for her to walk in.

It hit her like a shockwave. The realization that no matter what they decided, or how they acted toward each other, there was something branded in their DNA that would always recognize the other. She would always feel that shiver of awareness when he was in the room.

“Well, if it isn’t Little Remi Ford,” someone beckoned her from across the room.

“I’ll go get us drinks,” Spencer said in her ear and made his way toward the bar.

Remi pretended to throw herself into socializing, catching up with two classmates, her old history teacher, and Kimber’s next-door neighbor, who apologized for calling the cops on their argument. She wondered how long she could stay before disappointing Spencer and heading home to mope.

Spencer returned with two bright yellow drinks and a beer, and they made themselves at home in the corner using the windowsill as a table. “Brick said not to let you drink too much,” Spencer reported.

That fucking guy.

“Did he tell you about Mom?” Spencer asked.

Remi shook her head. Brick rarely mentioned either parent. “What about her?”

“Says she wants to come for a visit this summer. Stay at the hotel, get the whole island experience.”

“She’s never been here before, has she?” Remi asked.

Spencer shook his head and waved across the bar at someone. “Never. I catch up with her once a year or so. We meet up in a city for a long weekend or whatever. But Brick hasn’t seen her in years. I don’t think he ever forgave her for leaving. Or maybe he never forgave himself for being so hurt when she left.”

Remi winced, not wanting to think about Brick or Brick being a human under his disciplined, grumpy, hard-bodied exterior.

“How old were you guys when she left?” she asked as Spencer tugged at the label on his bottle.

“I was ten. Brick was almost eighteen. He was gonna do the military thing after high school but changed his mind when she left. He didn’t trust Dad to take care of me.”

Remi reached out and gripped his shoulder. “It’s a good thing he stuck with you. Otherwise you two might not have ended up here, and we wouldn’t have had the opportunity to sink your brother’s snowmobile.”