The Goblins of Bellwater

“The marina. Snack place of champions since—I don’t know, but before I was born.”

She squinted at him, eyes green in the sun. “I remember seeing you down here when we were teenagers.”

“’Course you did. This was the place to be.” He remembered seeing her too—some of her swimsuits and cutoff shorts in particular—but he knew better than to mention those out loud.

“There was this one time,” she said. “I don’t even know for sure if it was you, but I feel like it was. I was about eighteen, and it was summer, and I had walked down here and bought a bottle of juice. When I came out, you and some friends were sitting against that wall in the shade.” She glanced back at the outer wall of the store, a few feet from the boat gasoline pumps. “You saw me drinking the juice and said, ‘That looks good. Can I have some?’”

Kit had been grinning ever since she mentioned the juice. “And you handed it to me and let me have a sip.” He remembered it too, in a flash, though he hadn’t thought of it in years—Livy, fully developed and showing it in that bikini top, pausing to look at him in disdain while he hung out with some out-of-towner kids on vacation. Then her expression had shifted to a curious almost-smile, she’d handed him the bottle, and he’d sipped a mouthful of sweet strawberry-kiwi juice, looking her in the eyes. When he’d handed it back, she’d sipped it again without wiping it off, which had struck him as weirdly sexy. Then she’d strolled away.

Livy laughed. “So it was you.”

“God, I was such a little punk. You should’ve poured it on my head.”

“Nah, you were cute. I had the impression your girlfriend didn’t appreciate it, though.”

“Huh. Right.” He remembered that too, now that she mentioned it: Jenna sitting next to him, smacking his arm after Livy walked off, then pouting and bitching at him all day. “That relationship wasn’t destined to last anyhow.”

Livy folded her fingers around the tea cup. “Still living the bachelor life these days?”

“Yeah. It’s the compassionate thing to do. No one deserves to have me inflicted on them for life. What about you?”

She sipped the tea. “Same. Bachelor life. Except when I come down to the marina to pick up guys, of course.”

“With your seductive offers of juice.”

“Works every time.”

Kit grinned. Here he should have said, Anyhow, I’ll let you get back to it, and walked her to her car.

He didn’t say that.

He liked her looks and the way she treated him. He wanted to do something nice for her. Even if, technically, getting involved with him wasn’t much of a favor.

“You want to play hooky a little longer and walk down the beach with me?” he asked.

She lifted her eyebrows and considered for a few suspenseful seconds. “Sure.”




My move, Livy thought. He had invited her on another almost-date, and as with the first one, she was enjoying it. Kind of a lot actually.

Since it was low tide, they had plenty of beach to walk upon. They followed the shore southward, clambering over small docks belonging to houses, skirting oyster beds exposed by the tide. This was no flat sandy beach like the ocean; Puget Sound’s beaches were nearly all rocks, varying in size from grit to boulder, many of them covered with barnacles. The wind tore down the strait, and would have set her shivering if it weren’t for the exertion of tromping through the bumpy terrain.

“You’ve lived here your whole life, right?” she asked.

“Not quite. I was born here, but after my folks died I moved away for a couple years. Rented out the house, and tried living in Idaho, then Wyoming.” He squinted against the wind, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. “Turned out my troubles just moved along with me.”

“As they have a way of doing.”

“So, I figured I might as well come back here. I missed this.” He nodded at the Sound. “The water, the tides.” He grinned at her. “The marina, the girls.”

“Other towns have girls too, so I’m told.”

“Still.” He returned his gaze to the shore that rippled off into the distance. “This feels like home. And the cabin still technically belonged to me, so.”

“Waterfront. I’m jealous.”

“That’s about the only awesome thing about it. Everything needs repairing, always.”

“I guess I was similar to you,” she said. “I tried to get away. Went to college, planned to travel…but then, I don’t know. What I really wanted was to take care of this area.” She lifted her mostly-empty cup toward the landscape. “The beaches, the forests. We’re spoiled with how pretty it is around here.”

“Has its dangers. But it is pretty.”

“Dangers? Well, okay, earthquakes. Volcanoes. Really cold water.”

“Bigfoot.”

“Indeed,” she said. “Mysterious creatures in the woods.”

He shot her a keen glance.

“Skye and I used to make up stories,” she explained. “Teeny-tinies, we called them. Forest gnomes or something.” She glanced at the tips of the conifers, darkening to black as the sun set. “Sometimes when I was younger, I even could have sworn I heard them. Music, or laughter, or…” She caught his intent look, and subsided into a chuckle. “It was my imagination. Just, the forest can inspire those kinds of ideas. In someone weird like me, anyway.”

Kit’s glance slid away from her. “No, me too. You can tell by the crazy stuff I carve out of driftwood.” He slowed, glanced at the orange sky in the west, and turned around. “We better head back before it gets any darker. Hey, and this way the wind’s at our backs. Score.”

Livy turned with him. The wind pushed her hair over her shoulders, tickling her chin. She chose her next words carefully. “I remember hearing about your folks. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. They died within a year of each other. It was…” He balanced on top of a buoy anchor before stepping down and continuing forward. “Not the easiest time ever.”

“Wow. I bet.” She bit her lip as they trudged along, debating how personal a question to ask next, but he spoke up himself.

“They had me kind of late in life, so they were both around sixty when they died. Still, that’s kind of young, you know; they both drank too much, and had for a long time, which I’m sure figured into my dad’s heart disease. And my mom’s cirrhosis.”

“God, you were so young, dealing with that. With no siblings to share the load.”

“Yeah.” He kept his hands in his pockets, and gazed ahead at the marina. “Worst part was she got Korsakoff’s during the last couple years. I don’t know if you know what that is.”

Livy shook her head.

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