Jacob.
He glanced at Kenna and then at Sophie with a polite smile, and she instantly realized her mistake. This was Hudson Kincaid, Jacob’s twin. She let out a shaky exhale.
Hud’s eyes warmed. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to give you a jolt. I forget that I look just like him.”
Looked like him. Smiled like him. Sounded like him…
Except their eyes were different. Hud was charming and…open. Jacob’s eyes were shuttered, and though he could just as easily charm when he chose to, Sophie got the impression he didn’t choose to all that often.
“How’s he doing?” Hudson asked.
Remembering that night they’d demolished that bottle of Scotch, when Jacob had told her about not being sure how to reconnect with his family, she met Hud’s eyes. “Maybe you could ask him.”
“That’s not a great idea,” Hud said.
“Why not?”
“Interesting question,” someone said behind them.
Jacob.
He’d come in the door so stealthily that none of them had noticed. But Sophie was noticing now, big-time. He stood there in some seriously sexy guy jeans and a black T-shirt that only a few days ago would’ve made her want to spread him on a cracker and gobble him up.
But she was mad at him.
He stood there arms crossed, face carefully neutral, and she realized she wasn’t the only mad one.
“Since when do we gossip about each other?” he asked Kenna and Hud.
Not mad, Sophie realized, but…unhappy, frustrated…sad? She’d never seen him anything less than one hundred and ten percent confident, but here, with the people he should have felt the most at home with, he was off his axis. Dammit. Dammit, that made her want to hug him.
Kenna bit her lower lip and looked at Hud.
Hud hadn’t taken his gaze off Jacob.
Say something to make him feel welcome, Sophie found herself wishing. Anything.
Hud’s mouth tightened. “Since one of us vanished without a word.”
Sophie’s heart fell a little bit.
“We had plenty of words,” Jacob said. Still acting neutral. But he wasn’t, and how the hell was it that only she could see it?
“Before maybe,” Hudson said. “Not since.”
Jacob nodded his head in agreement.
Sophie’s chest felt too tight. She wanted to step in front of Jacob, face down his siblings, and yell, “Don’t you know coming here was hard for him? That he just lost someone near and dear to him and he needs you?” But she didn’t. Couldn’t. It wasn’t her place.
And besides, she was holding on to her own mad. By a thread.
Kenna blew out a large sigh and looked at Sophie. “I’m so glad I don’t have a penis. It seems like such a handicap.” She turned back to her brothers. “I don’t care about before. I care about now.” She came around the counter and gave Jacob a kiss on the jaw, having to go up on tiptoe to do it. “And in my opinion, now is looking pretty good.” She turned to Hudson. “Yeah?”
Hudson’s gaze never left Jacob. “It’s looking up anyway.”
Jacob headed over to Sophie, pulling her aside. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
She schooled herself not to melt because, hello, she was still mad at him. “Delivering flowers to Kenna.”
Both Hud and Jacob did a double take.
“From who?” Hud asked.
Kenna sighed. “It’s no big deal—”
“Who?” Hud asked again.
“Mitch,” Kenna said, and seemed satisfied when both Hud and Jacob narrowed their eyes.
“Why?” they asked her in unison.
Kenna laughed in delight. “Ask him,” she said. “Maybe you could do it together.”
“I’ll do it,” Hud said so darkly that Sophie actually felt a little sorry for this absent-but-clearly-about-to-die Mitch.
It was another two hours before Sophie was off work. She’d paid for a day pass at the campground, but when she got to the boat at North Beach, she had a ticket because the pass apparently wasn’t good for the dock she’d chosen. Furious, she left the dock and walked along the embankment above the beach. She was exhausted and pissy. She was spoiling for a fight and knew it. Just as she knew who she wanted to fight with—Mr. Not Lake Patrol.
The smarter thing would be to get back on the boat, go lie down, pull the covers over her head, and sleep until a better day came along. That’s not what she did. She headed toward the first cabin.
Jacob’s.
That’s when she heard it, a rhythmic thunking. She recognized the sound as someone chopping wood. Her dad had chopped wood. They hadn’t needed it much, since the Dallas winters were usually mild, but he’d found comfort in the mindless work. Or so he’d said. Sophie had never seen it lift his depression. But then again, nothing had lifted his depression, nothing had ever made him happy, and she had a deep-seated fear of ending up that way, never happy.