Will paused. “Why do we need Jane’s sister’s number?”
“In case of an emergency.”
“An emergency,” Will repeated flatly. Charlie may have been one of the most brilliant minds in green tech, but when it came to scheming, he was about as subtle as a jackhammer.
“Yeah,” his friend said nonchalantly. “We could start a group text or something. For safety. Or… for going out and doing other things. Maybe.”
“She’s free most nights,” Jane offered brightly.
Great. Charlie’d gotten the sister involved in this, too.
“Like… Friday or Saturday nights,” Charlie added.
Will narrowed his eyes at both of them, then turned without answering. He headed to the fridge, suddenly parched, and grabbed the pitcher of Annabelle’s cucumber water to pour himself a glass. He headed upstairs shortly after, with Annabelle and Vivienne passed out on the sofa, and Charlie and Jane still sitting close by the fireplace.
Now the gray morning light revealed that the living room was empty.
Coffee. Will needed coffee. His bare feet padded along the marble floor to the kitchen where the coffeemaker blinked 12:00. Apparently the power had come on at some point. Will pressed the on button and listened to the coffeemaker spurt and start slowly brewing.
When it was done, he took his cup and made his way to the wall of windows facing the beach. Usually the sun was so bright in this house that it practically blinded him, but today, gray clouds blanketed the sky, silhouetting seagulls making lazy loops across it.
He unlocked the sliding door and walked out onto the verandah, where the teak furniture was surprisingly intact. There was a slight chill in the summer air, mixed with the usual smell of seaweed and salt. The Hamptons had endured their share of hurricanes and forced evacuations over the years, but Will still marveled at the way it always fell back into its own rhythm afterward.
There was shuffling behind him then. He glanced over his shoulder to see Vivienne on her way to the kitchen, Annabelle in tow.
“I’m never drinking again,” Vivienne moaned. “Please tell me the power is back on. If I can’t have a latte, I’m going to cry.”
“I think you’ll survive, Viv,” Annabelle murmured.
A pit of dread formed in Will’s chest. As much as he loved Charlie’s sisters, he had learned years ago they were better in small doses. And definitely not first thing in the morning.
There was a commotion in the kitchen as the sisters raided the refrigerator, but Will continued forward across the verandah and down the narrow path to the beach. The cool sand was still wet, and he could feel the bottoms of his sweatpants getting damp as his feet sank into it, but he didn’t care. He just took a sip of his coffee. The bitterness bit at his tongue as he watched the massive swells crash on the beach over and over again.
I should have brought my board, he mused, hypnotized by the long line of the beach break. Yes, surfing right after a storm wasn’t the smartest idea—urban runoff made for more risks than he was used to taking—but even he couldn’t deny that today was the perfect day for it. Just the waves and the wind. No distractions.
Then something in the periphery caught his eye.
One lone surfer had decided to tempt fate and battle the ocean. They were winning, too. For several minutes, he watched from the beach, clocking them as they sliced through the water, caught a wave and rode toward shore.
Then they turned around and paddled back out to do it all again.
After a few minutes, the surfer was almost directly in front of Charlie’s house. They swerved, riding another monster wave onto the beach just a few yards from where Will stood watching.
Once in shallow waters, they picked up their board and dragged it up onto the sand. While Will couldn’t see their face thanks to their wetsuit’s hood, he could see now that it was a woman. Her dark purple wetsuit clung to her body like a second skin.
Then she turned, pulling the hood down and shaking out her hair just as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. Her wet, red hair.
His coffee hovered at his lips as his pulse stumbled. It was Elizabeth Bennet. Dripping wet and walking straight toward him, like he should be expecting her.
“Hi,” she said, stopping just a few feet away.
“What are you doing?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Her head tipped to the side as she stared up at him, her chest rising and falling with each fast breath. “Quantum physics. Obviously.”
He frowned. “You shouldn’t be surfing in this.”
Her eyebrows bobbed up. “Excuse me?”
