Or I can focus on my job. Take Reed up on his offer. Infiltrate his operation. Expose him for the fraud he is and walk away from Mistberry Cove with my investigation complete.
But as I glance up at Jasper, who’s waving for me to follow him, my heart squeezes painfully at the thought of never being with them again.
Sure, I could walk away as Ash and continue seeing them as Anita. Keep the two identities separate.
But what then? Keep lying about having a brother for the rest of our lives? Maintain this massive deception forever?
That’s not sustainable. That’s not fair to them or to me.
Shit. This is getting so messy.
19
ANITA
The supply boat is old, all dented metal and rust spots. Nothing like the sleek charter vessels with their polished surfaces and state-of-the-art equipment. This is a workhorse, built for hauling cargo rather than impressing anyone. The deck is cluttered with boxes of supplies, spare engine parts, coils of thick rope that smell like salt and oil, empty fuel canisters waiting to be refilled.
Jasper fires up the motor, and it coughs to life. The whole boat vibrates with the effort.
He tosses me a navy blue Wilde Charters jacket as we pull away from the main dock. “Put it on. It’s getting colder out here.”
“Thanks.” I catch it and shrug into it, grateful for the extra layer. The wind off the water is brutal, cutting through my clothes like they’re made of paper. The jacket smells like him, like all of them. That mix of scents that’s becoming dangerously familiar.
We motor out of the bay slowly, the old engine protesting but doing its job. The town of Mistberry Cove grows smaller behindus, buildings shrinking, the white church steeple becoming a tiny point against the mountains. The water is choppy today, gray green and unfriendly-looking, small whitecaps forming on the waves.
Jasper handles the boat easily, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the throttle. He looks completely at home here, like he was born to be on the water. His ash-blond hair is getting whipped around by the wind, and even wet and windswept, he’s ridiculously attractive.
“Haven’t seen Slater that pissed in ages,” he states after a moment, raising his voice to be heard over the motor and the wind. “You really know how to push his buttons.”
Guilt twists in my stomach. “I noticed.”
“But on this?” Jasper says, quieter now, his tone edged with something sharper. “I don’t buy it.”
I glance at him. “What’s that?”
He studies me for a second, those eyes too perceptive for comfort. “Earlier, you told me Reed’s bullshit made your blood boil.” He tilts his head slightly. “Then you’re nodding along with him like he’s some kind of role model.”
Crap.
My stomach drops. I hadn’t even realized how it must’ve looked from the outside.
I force a shrug, keeping my expression loose. Casual. Male.
“I wasn’t agreeing with him,” I say. “I was fishing.”
His gaze doesn’t leave my face.
“Yeah,” I continue, gesturing vaguely toward the water. “Trying to see how far he’d go. What he’d say if he thought he had an audience. Guys like that don’t show their real opinions unless they think they’re recruiting you.”
Jasper watches me, eyes narrowing.
I add, “Figured it’d be useful to know exactly how he operates.”
Something shifts in his expression. “Still a dangerous game,” he says. “People like Reed don’t just talk. They hook people, make them feel like they’re lacking something only they can fix.” His jaw tightens slightly. “Reed preys on insecurity.”
“I can handle myself.”
He lets out a quiet breath beside me. “Maybe,” he says. “Just be careful, because before you know it, you’re so deep in their bullshit that you can’t see straight.”
