Vision of Darkness by Tonya Burrows

attention. “It put up a fight though. J.J. almost rammed your porch with his truck.”
    “You’re not supposed to tell her that, stupid.” John Jr. gave his brother an affectionate shove with his foot and man and dog went sprawling into the grass, much to the delight of them both.
    Pru studied the wraparound porch she’d just had painted. “You don’t listen to your brother, Wade. I’d really like to know whenever he does something boneheaded like that.” 
    “Well, then I should tell ya about last summer—”
    “Wade,” John Jr. interrupted and gestured to the clouds gathering along the horizon, dark billows over the ocean already flashing with lightning. “We need to get our equipment packed up before that storm makes landfall.”
    Wade’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh.” He patted Triton on the head, then hopped to his feet and sprinted around the other side of the house.
    “Uh-huh,” Pru said with a smile. “What should he tell me, John?”
    “Nothing.” John Jr. finished off his beer and tossed the empty back in the cooler. “Really.”
    “Riiight.” She rolled her eyes as a blast of wind rustled the leaves on the trees bordering her property and brought the clean, cold scent of rain in from the ocean. She turned and gazed out over the water. “First storm of the season.”
    “Yup,” David said and finished off his own drink. “It’s going to be a big one too.” He clapped John Jr. on the shoulder, gave it a little squeeze. “I’m gonna head out, boss. Try to beat the storm back to town. See ya Monday.”
    Pru waited until David backed out of the drive and gave the horn a tap in farewell, then turned to John Jr. “So?”   
    He avoided her gaze by picking up the cooler and placing it in the back of his Ford, then rearranging the heavy chains they’d used to pull up the stump. “So what?”
    “You know.” When he still didn’t look at her, she flapped her arms. “Miranda! Have you asked her out yet?”
    His face reddened. “I don’t wanna ask her out.”
    “Bullshit. I see it in the way you look at her at the diner. You want her.”
    He choked. “I, uh—She’s with Rhett. Everyone knows that.”
    Pru scowled. She’d forgotten that complication, but wasn’t about to give up her decade-old mission to hook her cousin up with her best friend. John Jr. was homespun handsome with his blond hair, soft blue eyes, and a body honed by years of hard construction work. So he was shorter than Miranda liked her men and terminally shy when it came to women. He still had a lot going for him. His own company. His truck and a boat the size of a small yacht, both bought with cash. One of the nicest houses in town, a Victorian on Penobscot Street he restored himself. Beyond his material worth, he was funny. Caring. Honest to a fault. A far better man than Rhett Swithin could ever dream of being.
    “Forget Rhett,” Pru said. “They’re not officially together. You still have a shot.”
    “He’d kill me,” John Jr. said and gazed out over the ocean, his expression lined with regret.
    Probably. She slung an arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “You can’t think like that, cuz. Who she dates is her choice, but she’ll never notice you unless you make her notice. She’s just that way. That’s why she’s attracted to Rhett. He’s not happy unless everyone within a mile notices him.”
    John Jr. scowled. “If I have to act like that blowhole to get her attention, then it’s not worth it. I’d rather have my pride.”
    “You can have both. You don’t have to act like Rhett. Just be yourself and be confident and she’ll notice.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Want me to give her a little nudge in your direction?”
    His eyes all but popped out of his head. “God, no! I don’t need my baby cousin setting me up. Jesus, talk about a hit to the pride.”
    She laughed and pushed him away as thunder rolled in on a blast of wind. “You should get going before the storm hits.