“You don’t want to be a member of the yacht club, Wren.”
Her chin juts stubbornly. “Yes, I do.”
“You don’t have a boat.”
“Then I’ll buy a boat too.”
I scoff. “You’re so fucking spoiled.”
Wren smiles again, taking no offense. “You’re so fucking secretive.” She stands. “Think about it. Either tell me what the letters said or I’ll show up here every day and sunbathe on my yacht. Is my own boat boy included? I’ll need assistance in case I run out of champagne or need help applying sunscreen on my back. Does Wade still work here?”
Wiring my jaw shut wouldn’t clench it tighter. If I open my mouth now, who knows what will come out?
Wren stands. Glances down, like she suspects I’m hiding an erection behind this desk.
I can control what I say around her, but I’ve never been able to control how I feel around her.
“Good luck with yourwork.” Her emphasis makes it obvious she thinks I’m bullshitting, but I actually do have a lot to get done.
As soon as she leaves my office, I open a window. It lets out all the air-conditioning, raising the temperature in the room at least fifteen degrees, but somehow, it does nothing about the lingering scent of her floralperfume. Between shallow, irritated inhales, I wrap up as many tasks as possible—about half of what I normally accomplish—before bolting out of my office as soon as the clock hits five p.m.
Wade chases me down in the parking lot. “Boss!”
“Cut that shit out,” I tell his grinning expression.
“Fine. If you agree to come to Lucky’s later.”
I sigh. “I can’t tonight. I-I promised my mom I’d do some house stuff for her.”
I don’t like lying, but I can’t tell Wade the real reason, and he won’t know Mom isn’t back until tomorrow.
Wren isn’t patient. For all I know, she’s already on the phone with the board, sweet-talking her way into receiving a nonexistent slip and researching yacht brokers. I have to decide fast—tonight—what I’m going to do about her ultimatum.
Wade nods. “I get it. Tomorrow?”
“Sounds good. Night.” I open the truck’s door.
“Hey. Was that Wren Kensington here earlier?”
I climb in my truck and pull the door shut, glancing at Wade out the open window as I turn the key in the ignition. “You know it was.”
Wren isn’t someone you confuse with anyone else.
He nods again, agreeing. “She want her old job back?” Curiosity drips from each word.
I laugh once. “No. She wanted to know more about becoming a member.”
Wade’s eyebrows lift. “So, she’ll be around this summer?”
There’s way too much interest in his voice.
“Ask her.” I shift, reversing out of the spot and pretending not to hear his response as I drive off.
His, “She didn’t come to see me,” echoes in my ears anyway duringthe drive home, even though I crank the truck’s radio as loud as it’ll go.
When I turn on my street, I’m greeted with an immediate reminder of the woman who’s already commandeered most of my waking thoughts today—Wren’s convertible is parked in front of my house.
I pull in the driveway with a muttered curse, slamming the truck door so hard that the entire cab shakes.
