“There you are!” Marguerite’s voice lit the room like sunshine. “Perfect timing, Davie. It is ready.” She swept around the island like a storm of warmth and pulled Lena into a hug.
Lena blinked, surprised, and cast a silent plea over Marguerite’s shoulder at David. He smirked. Good. Let the affection knock some of the anxiety off her bones.
“Bébé ,” Marguerite patted Lena’s back once more, “the boys told me about your stalker. Do not worry. You are safe here. Zach and David will take care of everything. You eat, rest, and heal, yes?”
She coaxed Lena toward the taco bar. “Go on, make yourself a plate. When the boys are in residence, dinner is at 7 unless one of them changes it. I always make too much—join us anytime.”
Before Lena could even thank her, Kate barreled into the kitchen like a cannonball. “Sorry I’m late!” she cried, tripping over herself to get to Lena and wrap her in another hug. “Nick told me—holy crap, I can’t believe this. Are you okay?”
Lena blinked at the sudden influx of affection, but she didn’t pull away.
Kate leaned back, eyes snapping in fury. “I swear, they’ll catch the asshole. Sorry, Marguerite,” she added with a grimace.
Marguerite waved her apology off. “He is an asshole.”
David burst out laughing, the tension bleeding off him in stages. “Kate, you’re a wordsmith. If you think ‘asshole’ fits, I’m inclined to agree.”
Marguerite laid out a last platter and clapped her hands. “Let us eat!”
As everyone moved toward the island, David kept an eye on Lena as she laughed with Kate. Actually laughed.
Kate handed Lena a glass of red wine, and the light played off her face as she leaned into whatever joke Nick made. Hershoulders, taut with anxiety before, eased down enough to suggest safety—space to breathe again.
David’s gut unknotted one twist at a time. Mission accomplished for now, at least.
They’d get the stalker. They’d secure the resort. But tonight? Tonight, Lena was surrounded by laughter and warmth.
And tacos.
That was a damn good start.
Chapter 16
Scattered Detritus
The afternoon showersoftened to a mist, the kind that lingered in the air like breath just exhaled. Lena pulled her battered hoodie tighter as she wandered barefoot down the shoreline, scanning the sand for rogue debris or cranky guests in need of redirection. The cool, wet grains squeezed between her toes, grounding her in a way the resort’s polished marble floors never could. The after-storm stillness seeped into her soul, quieting the constant hum of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest when her stalker appeared.
David walked beside her, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his lightweight jacket, sneakers still on. Of course. He didn’t look like the barefoot-on-the-beach type—too controlled, too careful about where he stepped.
She was still shocked David had come with her to the beach at all. When she’d mentioned wanting to check the shoreline, she expected him to delegate it or suggest she take someone else. Instead, he’d stood and grabbed his jacket before following her out the door, his tablet tucked under one arm like a child’s security blanket.
“You know, Genius,” she dodged a driftwood log deposited by the waves like an offering, “not every complaint needs a twenty-point response plan. Sometimes, people simply want to whine and be heard.”
David arched a brow, the motion conveying both skepticism and amusement. “I’m sorry, did you miss the part where the VIP suite’s ceiling leaked?”
Lena smirked, warmth blooming at the easy banter between them. “It dripped. Briefly. Into a suitcase. Which was already ugly, if we’re being honest.”
“That ugly suitcase belongs to a social media influencer with a bazillion followers.”
“Well,” she kicked at a broken seashell with her toe, sending it tumbling across the sand, “hopefully one of them is a plumber.”
David snorted, the corners of his mouth twitching up in that rare, reluctant way that made her proud. Like she’d cracked some impossible code by making him laugh. He was too serious, which was a shame. He had an incredible smile—it transformed his entire face, softening the sharp angles of his jawline and bringing light to those intense blue eyes that seemed to see right through all her careful defenses.
They walked in silence for a few beats. Waves rolled over the sand with a rhythm matched to her breathing. The storm had flattened the beach, leaving behind scattered detritus—twigs, seaweed, shattered shells. Salt spray kissed her face, cool and cleansing. Lena’s gaze sharpened, hunting for what she always hunted for after a storm.
She bent to pluck a small, coral-pink shard from the sand. A half-moon piece of a conch, smooth on one side where the ocean had polished it, ragged on the other where it had broken. She rubbed her thumb across the rough edge, finding the sharp ridges time hadn’t yet worn away.
David waited beside her, a solid presence in her peripheral vision. His focus centered on her—not intrusive, just… attentive.His head canted as he studied the shell in her hand, and she caught a trace of his cologne mixing with the briny air.
