At First Touch (The Malone Brothers) by Cindy Miles Page A

lost five pounds since we left the house.”
    Emily’s tinkling laugh rang out, and before long the Jeep turned and then parked. Before Reagan could get out and close the door, her sister was there.
    “Come on!” she said excitedly. “I can’t wait for you to meet the guys.”
    When Emily slipped her arm through hers, Reagan paused. “Sis, no offense,” she said. “But I kind of want to get around on my own.”
    “Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Em said hastily. “I know you can. I just want to hug you all the time!” She turned Reagan’s arm loose and indeed gave her a quick hug.
    Reagan laughed. “I know, I know,” she answered. “Thanks. It makes me feel less dependent. You know?”
    “We’ll head around front to the veranda,” Em said, just ahead of her.
    Vintage music poured from the café, accompanied by the multiple tinklings of the chimes hanging from the open veranda’s ceiling. The scent of fresh bread, pastries, bacon and ham permeated the sea-salty air, and Reagan’s stomach growled.
    Which was drowned out by a group of grizzled voices all calling out at once.
    “I’ve died and gone to heaven,” one rumbled with enthusiasm.
    “My heart! My heart!” another one said dramatically.
    “Now, if this isn’t the prettiest picture I’ve ever seen I don’t know what is,” another said.
    “Come here, you two gals!” a fourth called out. “Good to see you both!”
    Using her stick, Reagan made her way behind Emily, up the steps to the veranda and to the corner where four dark figures rose from their seats.
    “How ya doin’, fellas?” Emily said. “Meet my gorgeous little sister, Reagan.”
    “Hi,” Reagan offered.
    “Sit right here,” one said. “You probably don’t remember me, but you used to help my wife, Frances, haul crabs up from the dock.”
    Reagan grinned. “Barely, but I do remember. How’ve you been, Mr. Wimpy?”
    One pulled a chair out for her, and she sat.
    “I’ll be right back with coffee,” Emily announced, leaving her alone with the guys.
    “So, lost your sight, eh?” the gruff one said. “That’s a tough one, sweetheart, but at least you got your looks. Ted Harden, US Navy, and a damned handsome devil if I do say so myself.”
    “You like baseball, Reagan?” another asked. “Dub Harden, US Navy tail gunner. Nice to meet you, young lady.”
    “He’s the baby of the group,” another added. “Sidney Harden, US Navy.”
    Reagan smiled and nodded. “It’s an honor to meet you all. Yes, I lost my sight but can still see shadows and brightness. Love baseball. And, wow,” she remarked. “I feel like I’m sitting in a history museum. You’re all legends.”
    Silence filled the air for a moment, and Reagan thought she’d offended the old group. Then they all burst out laughing.
    “Did you hear that, Wimpy? It’s like we’re a bunch of old-ass fossils or something,” he said, laughing.
    “No, honestly I didn’t mean it like that,” Reagan pleaded.
    “Don’t let this table of riffraff get the best of you,” a new voice sounded. “Ted, you can get your eyeballs off her legs any second now.”
    “Ho! Hey! Watch it, son.” Mr. Wimpy laughed. “Look at this good-lookin’ fella in a Coast Guard uniform.”
    Eric Malone swept into the chair beside her. “It’s true, all of it,” he whispered in her ear.
    “I’m old, not dead,” Ted grumbled. “Girl’s a dish! Ain’t no harm in checkin’ out the goods.”
    They all laughed.
    Emily arrived with the coffee, and the aroma steaming from the cup she set on the table rose to Reagan’s nostrils. Grasping it, she sipped it carefully, and the cream and sugar liquid was the perfect mixture. “Thanks.”
    “Where’s that jarhead fiancé of yours?” Ted asked Emily.
    “He’s meeting with a client today,” Emily replied. “He’s looking to restore a 1940 Ford pickup that belonged to his grandpa.”
    “Good. Good to hear,” Ted answered. “Now, boy, don’t come bargin’ in on our little