Heidi’s eyes flicked to Cass, then Harmony, warm and assessing. “Thanks for inviting me. This is . . . kind of perfect.”
“Give it an hour,” Harmony said. “We tend to ruin perfection.”
Heidi grinned. “I’ve noticed. That’s why I like you.”
There it was—easy, earnest. A woman who’d thrown herself into the messy gravity of the island faster than most.
Zach stepped behind her, his chest brushing her back, subtly, casually—but not casually at all. “Relax your shoulders. Let the rod guide you,” he murmured. He shifted a little, keeping their bodies aligned. “You’re fighting it.”
“Story of my life,” she replied, exhaling. Her stance softened.
Harmony felt Cass elbow her lightly. “You’re staring.”
“I’m observing.”
“Uh-huh. Observing him observing her. That’s new.”
Harmony didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she catalogued the micro-reactions. Heidi’s lashes fluttered, then steadied. Zach’s jaw unclenched, his body language shiftingfrom careful to . . . something else. Not careless. But not detached either.
“Use your hips,” he said. “Let the rod follow.”
She cast. The line arced out, plunking into the glittering water. Joe whooped like she’d just landed a trophy. Tosh applauded. Candy didn’t. Mary smiled—small, sharp.
“Damn, girl,” Joe called. “You’re a natural.”
“Beginner’s luck,” Tosh said, but there was appreciation in his eyes as he lit a cigarette and leaned against the rail. “You should’ve seen my first time out. Hooked my own ass.”
Cass snorted. “That explains so much.”
Candy, who’d spent the first part of the trip sprawled in the sun with her hat over her face, sat up and slid on sunglasses. “We’re really all going to pretend she doesn’t look like a teenage boy’s poster model?” she asked. She didn’t sound amused.
“Envy is loud on you,” Tosh said mildly.
Candy ignored him, assessing Heidi with a tilt of her head. “So, Heidi, is it? How long are you staying?”
“As long as I can stretch my PTO,” Heidi said, reeling in a bit of line. “A few more days, at least.”
“Careful,” Joe said. “The island has a way of swallowing people who say that.”
“I could think of worse places to vanish,” Heidi replied.
Harmony tucked that away. It went quiet for less than thirty seconds.
Torie wasn’t on the boat, but her presence hovered like low static. It seemed like venom might be part of the afternoon.
“Did you hear that Torie called Joe at three a.m.?” Cass asked. “Something about Harmony being dangerous and someone else being bait.”
Harmony frowned. “What?”
“She’s unraveling,” Cass said. “Or she’s onto something. Hard to say which.”
Harmony rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Cute, Cass.”
“I amuse myself if no one else,” Cass said with a joyful laugh. She was getting way too much pleasure out of stirring the pot this afternoon.
They settled into the rhythm of fishing. Lines cast, checked, recast. Beer opened. Sunlight shifted higher, shimmering off the water in blinding streaks. Conversation ebbed and flowed, and stories layered over each other like waves.
“So,” Mary called after a while, “whatreallybrought you here, Heidi?” She paused, giving her a pointed stare. “Not the story you give to make yourself sound better.”
