She smirks.
“Heard you were the reason photos of Wendy and me are all over the fucking internet.”
“Technically, I didn’t post them. But I did know you were hiding something. It was obvious the day you walked into the B&B, wearing that watch. Real conspicuous.” She takes a sip from her cup. “Just a little sleuthing is all it took. You should’ve really considered not using your real last name.”
“Thanks for the pointers. But it was never an issue until you.”
“You’re welcome. Now you don’t have to hide.”
“That wasn’t your call to make,” I say.
“Maybe not. But when you’re in public, you can be recorded or photographed by anyone.” Mia turns and glances at Wendy, who’s smiling so wide. “She has the truth now. The B&B is booked through December, and you were slow dancing at a bonfire like you were the main characters in a fucking romance novel. So”—she finishes her drink—“I helped,” she says proudly.
I study her. “This could’ve been a disaster.”
“Sure. But I believed you’d do the right thing.” Mia sets her empty cup on the table. “You owe me, Banks.”
“Yeah?”
“You know you do, and I will absolutely be cashing in on that, Mr. Billionaire.”
I chuckle. “You’d better be glad I like you.”
“It’s because I have the best book recs.” She nods once and walks back to the guy she’s with. He puts his arm around her without hesitation. I process how I got outplayed by a woman who loves to give me shit with zero remorse.
I find the empty cups with our names on them and fill them.
She takes hers and reads my face. “What?”
“This is Slap Yo Mama. Careful.”
“Shit, Carter—I mean, Dyson. Ugh.”
“Call me whatever you want, babe.”
Wendy looks across the fire at Mia, who raises her cup in a casual toast. Wendy shakes her head, but the corner of her mouth lifts. “What did she say?”
“Basically, don’t be in public if you don’t want photos posted. She didn’t give a fuck about what she did,” I say with a laugh. “Josie was a pawn and had no idea.”
Wendy shakes her head. “I’ll deal with Mia later. Tonight is ours.”
She grabs my hand and pulls me back toward the music.
We sway to the music until the fire burns low. Someone rebuilds it, and we keep going.
Around eleven, Mia and Luke disappear down the beach without a goodbye. Summer is asleep on Dayton’s shoulder, and he hasn’t moved in forty-five minutes—because shifting would mean acknowledging he gives a damn. Fallon and Travis are chatting on a blanket near the water. Cal is mumbling something to Silvie, who’s laughing her ass off.
Wendy yawns.
“Ready?” I ask. “We’ve had a long day.”
She looks up at me. The firelight makes her face glow. “One more song.”
I hold her through the entire three minutes.
When the song ends, she takes my hand, and we walk the beach path back to the B&B. A taco-shaped moon hangs over the water. Behind us, the bonfire shrinks to an orange glow. The music fades until it’s just bass.
“Tonight was perfect,” she says. “Thanks for going.”
