I look at him from the corner of my eye.
“Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Husband? Wife? Partner?”
“Subtle,” I tell him.
“Not my forte.” When I don’t respond, he asks, “Maybe a distant cousin on your mother’s side?”
“The wedding’s next Saturday,” I say, deadpan.
Charlie looks at me strangely. His dimples are in place, but something shifts in his eyes. “You’re funny.”
“I’m not really.” I don’t think anyone has accused me of being funny before.
“I disagree.”
“Believe me,” I tell him. “I’m the kind of person who, when I tell a joke, someone will say, ‘That’s funny,’ but they don’t actually laugh.”
“Youarefunny.” He says it like it’s a revelation.
“And yet you still didn’t laugh.”
At that, he chuckles. The sound is deeper than the engine’s rumble. It settles low in my belly, a feeling I quickly dismiss.
“So we’ve established that you’re funny,” he says.
I shrug.
“And single?” Charlie winks.
“Single. No boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, partner, or questionable relationship with a distant cousin on my mother’s side.”
“It’s the cousin on your dad’s side I need to be concerned about, right?”
Before I can stop myself, I bark out a singular “Ha!”
Charlie grins like he’s won a round, and the expression zings through me. I’ve seen the same smirk, on the same face, only it was sixteen years younger.
The realization knocks me over like a tidal wave. Charlie is the older brother from my photo, the one I wove elaborate fantasies about. My mouth falls open in slow motion, and I snap it shut before he sees me gaping. I flash several degrees hotter, suddenly nervous, suddenly seventeen.
“A summer with just you and your grandmother,” Charlie says, jerking me back to the present. “That’s unusual.”
I blink at him, finding it difficult to get words past my lips, before coming up with, “Is it?”
“I’d say so.”
I take a deep breath, pulling myself together. “We’re close. The least I could do was get her out of her house.”
Charlie’s gaze travels my face; his brows are pulled together slightly. “That doesn’t seem like the least you could do.”
I hum, not fully agreeing. “She’s family. I did what anyone would.”
“I doubt that.” His eyes find mine, piercing as lasers, as if he can see deep inside. It’s unsettling. “I bet you’re not like anyone else, Alice Everly.”
10
I find myself studying Charlie as we pull up to the dock, trying to figure him out. Arrogant, definitely. Unpredictable, too. A loose cannon. The kind of guy I normally avoid. The Everly clan has ego, attitude, and drama aplenty. I don’t need it elsewhere, especially not from men. Security. Safety. Comfort. It’s what IthoughtI had with Trevor.
“How’s your grandmother settling in?” Charlie asks.
