I leaned forward to speak to Elodie. “Wes is home now, right? We haven’t really seen him around or anything.” Myvoice trailed off. Wes was healing, as was expected after such a traumatic injury.
Elodie nodded, sadness washing over her features. “He’s home. Cal visits him a lot and says that physically he’s healing really well. Mentally it’s been”—she paused, chewing the inside of her lip—“kind of tough.”
My heart ached for poor Wes. He had grown up in Star Harbor and had always been such a fun-loving guy. Winnie was dangling from the back of the bleachers, using them as a makeshift jungle gym. I reached into our cooler to grab a sparkling water and hopefully ease my parched throat.
Watching Austin bend in half to touch his toes and stretch certainly wasn’t helping things.
“Has anyone heard from Clara?” I asked my sisters, desperate for a change of topic.
Clara, our middle sister, hadn’t been back to Star Harbor in nearly a year. Her fiancé’s thriving tech company did more than enough to keep her social calendar completely booked. Oftentimes I would reach out without hearing much back other than that things were fine.
Maybe it was my big-sister intuition, but something just feltoff.
“She didn’t come home once this summer,” Kit accused. “It’s like she thinks she’s too good for this family.”
I shrugged. “Maybe she just has a lot going on. I know Greg and his calendar keep them very busy.”
“Greg and his calendar.” Kit snorted a disgusted sound. “What a douche canoe.”
Elodie and I glanced at one another and hid a laugh.
Winnie’s head popped up from behind the bleachers. “What’s a douche?”
Collectively we dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Come on, baby.” I reached over and helped to haul Winnie back on top of the bleachers. “Let’s focus on the game. It’s about to start.”
I tried not to stare, butgoddamn. After effortlessly launching a ball over the outfield wall, Austin rounded home and jogged toward the dugout, grinning, sweat damp. He was completely unaware of how infuriatingly hot he looked.
His ball cap was turned backward, and as his eyes flicked up and locked on mine, my stomach took a nosedive.
Oh, he wasveryaware of how good he looked.
My thoughts jumbled.He’s just a man. A man with tattoos and forearms and a face like trouble wearing a backward cap. And a mouth I definitely don’t think about. Ever.
Kit’s elbow bumped into my ribs. “So how’s life with your hot neighbor?”
“Oh yes.” Elodie leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand. “What’s he like?” she asked. “I’ve only met him a couple of times, and he just seemed so charming.”
I schooled my face into a model of indifference. “I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken.”
Kit lifted her nose in the air to tease me. “I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken.” She laughed. “You’re telling me with those paper-thin walls, you haven’t heard the shower running and thought of that man naked?”
Thankfully Winnie was out of earshot, working on twisting together a dandelion crown with a friend from school. I could feel the heat creeping up my collarbone and cheeks.
I’m certainly thinking of it now.
“You’re hilarious,” I deadpanned.
“I’m just saying,” Kit chimed in, “that man looks like he could chop wood shirtless and ruin your life in the best way.”
Elodie giggled. “I know on good authority there is almost nothing hotter than watching a man chop wood.” Her gaze drifted to Cal as she smiled.
A part of me—one I usually kept locked up tight—wondered what it would feel like to be wanted like that again.
Recklessly. No questions asked.
I shook my head and tried not to imagine Austin as a shirtless lumberjack.
As the game wore on, I focused on the way the white puffy clouds floated across a clean blue sky, a bird digging for worms in the grass, Winnie’s hair in tangles that she would surely fight me on as I brushed them out tonight at bath time.
