I immediately put my guard back up, shrugging off the observation. “Nah. The money’s too good to walk away from.”
She didn’t push, just gave me a small, perceptive smile before turning back to her fishing rod. But she was right, of course. I hadn’t thought about it in a while, but watching Austin—a guy who ran his business with his own two hands, who answered to no one but the tides—stirred something in me. The idea of having my own shingle, a smallCFP firm helping people like Austin and other small businesses, had a certain appeal. An image of me with a shop on Main Street under one of those ridiculous ornate lampposts flashed before me, and I almost laughed.
Yeah, right…
A frown lowered my lips as I tested the line for a vibration. Nothing. I eased out a long sigh.
Brynn handed me a fresh can of soda. “You know, you’re allowed to enjoy this. It’s not a test.”
I rolled the can between my palms. “I’m not good at things I can’t win.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You really think everything’s a competition?”
“Not everything. Just the stuff that matters.”
“And what matters?”
I was saved from answering by a shout from Austin. “Brynn! You’re up.”
She scrambled to the stern and hauled on the rod, muscles flexing as she wrestled with whatever was on the other end. The fish was a good one—a speckled snapper, scales iridescent in the sun. Brynn whooped as she landed it, and Austin clapped her on the back before letting it slip back into the water.
She collapsed onto the bench next to me, grinning. “Your turn. Catch something, or I’ll never let you hear the end of it.”
My line hung slack, utterly ignored. Brynn giggled and reached over to adjust the drag on my reel, her hands warm and sure.
Austin called from the bow, “Let it run next time. Don’t overthink it.”
“Good advice for life?” I muttered.
Brynn heard me. “You could stand to relax a little.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
Her eyes turned serious. “Why are you so cynical, Dean?”
The question landed like a thrown anchor. I was too tired to fake it. “It’s not life I’m cynical about. It’s expectations. The idea that anyone ever gets it right.”
“Gets what right?”
Love… that feeling when you look into someone’s eyes and feel like you’re home.
But I could never say that out loud. “Weddings drag up all sorts of crap, don’t they?”
“Did someone hurt you?” Her voice was gentle, not prying.
And I had no idea why, but with Austin at the other end of the boat and no witnesses but the placid blue ocean, the truth came out. “Once. I was an idiot—thought if I just loved hard enough, everything would work out. She left. Said she wanted more adventure in her life. I wasn’t it.” Just saying the words out loud and remembering that time made my skin crawl.
Brynn listened, never looking away. There was no pity in her expression, just quiet understanding.
“So now you keep everyone at arm’s length,” she said, not unkindly.
“Safer that way.” I shook off the bad memory with a determined effort.
She nodded. “Does it work?”
I laughed, surprised by the truth. “Not always.”
She nudged me with her shoulder, smiling. “You might be more of a romantic than you let on, Mercer.”
