“I had no idea you were still on the island.” Or still working at the cafe, but I don’t say that. I’d always assumed she’d leave the island and do something sophisticated. She was always so smart.
“Just temporarily,” she hedges, her gaze darting to Beau, who smiles at her in a strange way.
I look back and forth between them, wondering what that little exchange was. Is she here forhim?
“It’s great to see you,” she remarks to me. “You look great.”
For reasons I don’t understand, my eyes dart to Beau.
“It’s true,” he says. “You do.”
Feeling flustered, I press my lips into a thin line at him.
“What can I get for you two?” Ivy asks, wiping her hands on her apron.
Beau orders us steak and cheese sandwiches, and after about ten minutes, Ivy hands him two brown takeout bags. “It’s great to see you both,” she says in a way that makes me wonder if she thinks this is a date.
I can’t have it get back to Grams that I went on a date with Beau Palmer. Especially because I didn’t.
“Beau’s taken personal offense to my dislike of SunsetHarbor,” I explain, “so he’s taking me on an island tour at gunpoint to try to persuade me it’s the best place on earth.”
Ivy looks confused, but Beau just chuckles. “Good to see you, Ivy.”
I hold the bags on my lap once we get back in the cart, pretending the smell coming from them isn’t making me salivate like a Pavlovian puppy. Once the cart starts moving, though, the wind helps, and we make our way back the way we came.
“You can take the food out and put the bag over your head if you want,” Beau offers.
“Huh?” It’s the food I want interacting with my head—specifically making its way into my mouth—not the bag.
“Seemed like you were embarrassed to be seen with me, so I thought that might be a good solution.”
“Hey, I know how gossip works on this island, mister, and you’ll need a lot more than a squirt gun if Grams is led to believe we were on a date.”
“I will, or you will?” he asks as he pulls in front of his house.
My eyebrows go up as the rumble of the engine dies. “Oh, are we done already?” I set the food between us, then grab the handle bar to get out. “Thanks for the island tour, Beau.”
“Nice try,” he says, grabbing me by the wrist until I face him. The edge of his mouth creeps up. “We’re just getting started.”
For some reason, those words send chills down my back.
I followBeau through the side gate that leads to the back of his house, focusing on the yard instead of the shape of the muscles in his calves or how loose the weave of his linen shirt is.
Oh wow, what a lovely patio set. Two chairsanda table. Imagine that!
He leads us to the dock on the far side of the house—the one next to the Collinses’ house. That’s right. The Palmers had access to two docks, yet they chose to fight with us over the one on our side.
“No chalk lines onthisdock, I see,” I say.
He steps into the boat and sets down the bag of food. “Because the Collins family hasn’t drawn any.”
I very maturely ignore the hand he offers me and step into the boat on my own. “Probably because they were terrified of being bullied or—whoa!”
Beau’s arm slips around my waist in a flash, pulling me up against him as I grab his arm for insurance, my heart pounding. The boat rocks from side to side, growing more stable with each dip.
“You good?” Beau’s brown eyes search mine.
“Yep.” I remove my hand from his biceps lest he think I capitalized on an opportunity to get close to him. It wouldn’t be a stretch, given that he believes I was stalking him from the attic. “You can let me go now.”
