Mason smirked at me, and I shook my head sternly. I was never going to get through that part of the tour again without thinking of sex, damn it.
“They remained on the island for nearly eight months, healing, before they swam to the mainland. No longer desiring a merchant life after their brush with death, the men resolved to move their families down to the island where they’d washed up—the island that Jacob Godfrey swore hadwhisperedto him in the depths of the storm.” I glanced in Mason’s direction. “This is the part where you’re supposed tooooh, FYI.”
Mason wrinkled his nose. “Dude, I’m still back on him taking eightmonthsto heal from a broken leg.”
I rolled my eyes. “Their X-ray machine was down, Loafers.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, but that’s areallylong time. Like, if it was set properly, it would get well in a matter of weeks. If it wasn’t set properly, it—”
“Who’s telling this story, Loafers?”
He pinched his lips together. “You are—”
“Damn straight.”
“—Captain,” he added breathlessly.
“I’m gonna make you walk the plank,” I informed him. “You wanted to hear this, remember?”
He mimed zipping his lips shut.
“Now. Where was I?”
“The island was whispering,” Mason said in an appropriately hushed voice.
I resisted the urge to laugh. “Right! So, the Goodman and Godfrey families settled on the island. Resolute and Sarah Goodman built a large home on the northern half of the island, while Jacob and Daisy Godfrey built a home in what’s now the town center, just a mile and a half north of the spot where Goodman and Godfrey came ashore.”
“Reeeeally.”
“Marius Wynott never told you that his bookstore was the original Godfrey house?”
“No! And wait, and where did they land? On the beach near where we, um… live in the motel?”
That wassonot what he was going to say. “Yeah, they landed by the rocks. Haven’t we discussed this already?”
“Did we?” He lifted a shoulder in a way that would have seemed casual if his face hadn’t flushed pink. “One beach on the island was the same as the other until, you know… recently.”
“Ah, until I kissed you on that particular stretch of beach, you mean?” I said smugly. “Yeah, then the two of them went about half a mile inland and cleared a spot in the woods we call the Original Homestead. They built a temporary shelter out of driftwood and palm trees. Made a fire pit. Even…”
“Grew little plots of blackberries,” he said impatiently. “Yes, I’ve heard. But back up the bus.Itotally kissedyou, Mr. Reardon. Check Instagram if you don’t recall.”
“I haven’t checked Instagram since… the one and only time I ever checked Instagram weeks ago,” I informed him. “Unlike some people, I don’t need to follow anyone, let alone have them followingme.”
The very idea was horrifying.
Mason’s nose wrinkled. “So, you haven’t seen all the pictures I’ve posted of us?”
“Whatallthe pictures?”
“Never mind. Not important. Back to your story. What happened after they moved their families here? They had a bunch of babies and populated the place? When did people start hunting the treasure?”
“Jacob and Resolute each had three children before the day they boarded theEsmerelda.” I set the engine to idle, and the boat rolled gently in the chop. “The first recorded mention of the treasure came when Resolute Goodman died in 1850 and his family examined his papers—”
Mason laughed and folded his hands under his chin.
“What?”
“Nothing! Sorry! Just… I understand why you don’t talk a lot because holy shit, you must get so tired of talking. But also? I’m gonna need you to use this tour-guide voice on all kinds of things now. It’s really hot. Please narrate the way you change the oil in the Charger, and how Dale Jennings eats his dinner, and how Beale’s cat hates everyone, including Beale, and—”
