But I know damn well—bubbles always burst on impact.
CHAPTER 10
Knox
“It’s too risky.”
I drag a hand through my hair and shift the phone to my other ear, squinting into a bright morning glare bouncing off the ocean. My coffee’s gone cold. So has the toast I never touched.
Mont exhales on the other end. “Talk to me.”
“Besides lease structure issues, their margins are too thin, historicals don’t add up, and labor costs are a fucking mess. We wouldn’t be adding a stable business to our portfolio. We’d be inheriting a headache.”
“Damn,” Mont mutters, almost to himself. “That Jersey Shore spot pulls twice the traffic they get out west.”
“You know I don’t sugarcoat. When I dig, it’s deep, and I’m always honest. Just took me longer than planned this time. Got…sidetracked.”
Shadow meows from the playpen, a pitiful little cry that’s part boredom, part demand for attention.
“What the hell was that?”
“That was Shadow…a kitten.”
“A kitten?” Mont goes quiet. “When I told you to get some pussy, I didn’t mean get a damn house cat.”
Classic Mont. Deadpan delivery with just enough bite to make you wonder if he’s kidding. “Remind me to fill you in later.”
“And that young hottie next door? Any more naked run-ins?”
Before I can even get a word in, he cuts himself off.
“Ah, hold up. Frankie’s finally calling me back. Been a minute since I checked in with my kid. Catch you later.”
We hang up, and I drop my phone onto the table beside me.
Waves hum below, white noise against early morning calm. Overhead, a gull cries out, distant and sharp.
My eyes drift toward Millie’s deck next door. Towels hang like summer flags, and a single flip-flop lies abandoned halfway beneath a chair. No sign of Cami yet. Maybe she’s still asleep. Or maybe she’s stretched across the bed, scrolling through her phone, bare legs tangled in sheets, beautiful in a way I haven’t seen but can somehow picture.
It’s been a few days since that hallway kiss and the summer fling rules we drafted like agents striking a lucrative deal between us.
No strings.
No real-world talk.
No falling in love.
Cami printed hard copies for us to sign with three new clauses added, equal parts practical and personal.
We’re both clean. She had her screening before summer; I had mine after the mess with Jenna.
She has an IUD, so when we cross that line, it’ll be safe…and hot.
And no sex until we’ve been on at least three dates.
I’m good with all of it. Even the waiting.
Because I didn’t come to Crystal Cove for hookups. I came for peace and quiet.
