“Hello, ladies.” A low, soothing voice. Familiar.
Zach stood like he’d been carved out of the pier—broad shoulders, work-roughened hands, and eyes that saw more than most people wanted revealed. He wore a faded T-shirt and cap, and sawdust clung to his forearm like a signature.
“Zach!” Cass lit up. “You’re back.”
“Wasn’t gone long,” he said. “Came in last night.”
His gaze lingered on Harmony for a beat too long, like he was checking for damage only he could see. It wasn’t quite flirtation. It felt like recognition—and that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
Zach had a talent for appearing exactly where he was needed—and, sometimes, where bad things happened. Harmony still hadn’t decided if this made him lucky or cursed.
“We heard the gallery’s showcasing builders,” Harmony said. “I’m sure your work’s in there.”
Their eyes caught for a second, the world narrowing to the space between them. He gave a casual shrug, but something in his gaze stayed locked on her.
“They’re showcasing some cottages and a deck I’m not mad about. Nothing fancy.”
“Yournothing fancymakes people cry,” Cass said. “In a good way.”
He looked between them, questions tucked behind his expression. “Staying long?”
“Long enough to get into trouble,” Harmony said lightly. “Join us at Bluewater later if you have time.”
“I’ll try,” he replied. “Got an inspection at Descanso. If it goes sideways, I’ll need a drink.”
“Marlin after,” Cass added. “Because we’re predictable.”
He nodded, hesitating like he wanted to say more but knew better. Then he blended back into the flow of people, already half-swallowed by the day.
“I always feel like he knows more than he says,” Cass murmured.
“That’s because he does,” Harmony replied. “Builders see skeletons where everyone else only sees gloss.”
They continued walking. At a boutique, Janie held court—bare shoulders, polished ponytail, confidence wrapped around her like perfume. Two men hovered on either side, dazzled and oblivious. Janie hoarded attention the way some people collected parking tickets—carelessly, constantly, without thought of consequences.
“Uh-oh,” Cass whispered. “She smells money.”
Janie glanced up. Her smile brightened—warmth turned up just for them.
“Harmony,” she trilled. “Back to stir the pot?”
“Back to drink iced coffee and avoid sunburns,” Harmony said.
“Oh, sweetie.” Janie’s smile deepened. “You can’t avoid anything here. The island doesn’t allow it.”
She turned to her audience, effortlessly reclaiming center stage. “This dress, because he insisted,” she said, gesturing to one man. “And this necklace because he begged so nicely.” She touched the other’s arm. Both men beamed, proud to be props.
“You going to the gallery tonight?” Janie asked.
“We might,” Harmony said.
“You should.” Janie’s gaze flicked to Cass, then back. “Lots of interesting people.” Her tone madeinterestingsounddangerous.
“See you later,” Cass said brightly. “Or see you everywhere.”
“Everywhere works,” Janie called, already returning to her reflection.
“Sometimes I forget why I don’t like her,” Cass said. “Then she speaks.”
