Hearts at Seaside (Sweet with Heat: Seaside Summers #3)

“Sky, I need to talk to you about Pop.”

She smiled. “He looks great. You should have seen his face when I walked in. He was so surprised. Totally worth the drive.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Pete. You look like you have something really bad to tell me. Your face has that oh no look.” She drew her eyebrows together and pinched her mouth into a tight line, mocking him. “Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than when you told me about Mom—” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh no. Is Dad…?”

“No. No, Sky. Dad’s not dying.” Yet.

She let out a loud breath. “Oh, thank goodness. Then what is it?”

“This is really hard to say to you. I know how much you love Pop and that you look up to him.”

“Who wouldn’t? He runs his own business, he’s always in a good mood, he went to every one of my track meets and to my graduations, and he totally loved Mom with all his heart. Still loves her with all his heart.” She shrugged. “He’s the best father anyone could ever have.”

Pete looked down at his hands, then met her gaze with a serious one. “Sky, Pop has a drinking problem, and I’ve kept it from you, but it’s gotten out of hand.”

“Oh, please. He’s always had a few drinks, but that doesn’t mean he has a problem.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I know it doesn’t, but the fact that he drinks himself into a stupor every night does.” He paused, letting his words sink in.

Sky’s brows drew together again; then they relaxed and a smile began to curve her lips. “Right,” she said tentatively. A second later her eyes filled with worry. “Wait. What? You aren’t kidding?”

“It’s true, Sky. It started right after Mom died, and it’s only gotten worse.”

“No. You have to be wrong.” She shook her head. “No way.”

“Sky—”

She rose to her feet and paced the deck with Joey on her heels. “No way, Peter. You’re overreacting. What happened? Did he have too much to drink one night? Two? You have to be overreacting.”

“I wish I was.” Pete rose and touched her arm.

She shrugged him off.

“Sky, every night it’s the same thing. He drinks in Mom’s sewing room, same chair every night. He calls me so drunk he can’t do more than ramble about Mom.”

Sky’s lower lip trembled, and it was all Pete could do to give her the space her body language told him she needed.

“I’m sorry. I thought it was best to shield you from it.”

Tears streamed down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Dad would never get that drunk night after night. Why are you trying to get me to believe this? Do you think it’s going to make me suddenly figure out my life or something? Because that’s all you care about.”

Pete had expected this reaction, but it still stung. “No. I’m telling you this because I am going to talk to him this afternoon and try to get him into rehab before he drinks himself to death. Sky, I don’t care if it takes you years to figure out your life, or your career, as long as you’re safe and happy.”

She scoffed and turned away.

“If you don’t believe me about Pop, just think about it. When’s the last time you saw him after dark?”

She spun around and snapped, “Last…” She looked away, then turned back and pointed at Pete. “Easter.”

“No, you stayed here on Easter, and on Christmas, and during every visit for the last two years.” He kept distance between them and fought the urge to reach out to her again. He knew Sky too well. Cornered, she’d strike like a viper. She needed to come to him on her own terms. She’d always been like that. Even as a little girl she’d refused to hear the things that she didn’t want to, until she had time to process them and found them to be true.

“That’s because you always have something going on and you invite me and Matt and Hunter, and…Wait. If that was true about Dad, they’d know about it.” She pulled out her cell phone and pressed a speed-dial number. “Hunter. I’m with Pete, and he…” She flashed a heated look at Pete while she listened to their brother.

She and Hunter had always been close. While Pete was her protector, Hunter, the second eldest, was more like a best friend to them all, especially Sky. Hunter was the ultimate peacemaker. Pete knew he’d never tell Sky the truth about their father without asking him about it first.

“Yes, I’m in Wellfleet.” She listened again. “Why?” Her nostrils flared as she listened to Hunter on the other end of the phone. “Wait, he says Dad—” She quieted again and thrust the phone at Pete. “He wants to talk to you.”

Pete took the phone from her trembling hand. “Hey, Hunter.”

“Dude, you’re telling her?” Hunter spoke a little louder than a whisper.

“Yes.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.” Pete looked at her damp eyes and felt his stomach sink. “Let me give you back to Sky.” He handed her the phone. “I’m sorry, Sky.”

She pressed the phone to her ear. “Is it true? Is Dad an alcoholic?” Her hand flew to her mouth and she turned away from Pete. “Mm-hmm. ’Kay. Love you, too.” She set the phone on the table and wept softly.

Pete moved behind her, aching to comfort her. “Sky, he’s still the same father you know and love, and he loves you to the ends of the earth.”

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Her shoulders shook with her sobs. “Why is he doing this?”

“Best I can figure is that losing Mom was too much for him.”

She turned to face Pete. “He looked fine when I saw him.”

“He does look fine during the day, honey. He’s a functioning alcoholic. I honestly don’t know if he drinks during the day, but he holds himself together somehow. At night, in his house, it’s a different story.” Pete opened his arms, giving her the option of stepping into the safety of his embrace.

Sky turned away again. “So everyone knows but me?”

“Yes, and that was my doing, not Hunter’s, Matt’s, or Grayson’s. So be mad at me, not them. You were so torn up after Mom died that I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’m not a child, Peter.” She faced him again, red faced and puffy eyed. “You need to stop treating me like I am.”

He nodded. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

She stepped forward, just a few inches from him. “I have a right to know. I’m part of this family.”

“You are, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry about him when you were just getting your life back together.” He had been so sure that protecting her was the right thing to do, and now, watching his sister’s pain and hearing the anger and hurt in her voice, he reconsidered everything he’d believed.

She took another step closer and punched his chest with the side of her fist. “You should have told me. How can he do this? Every night? Are you sure?”

“I should have, and yes, I’m sure.”

“For crying out loud, Peter.” She banged her fist on his chest again and again.