“Like some kind of arrangement?”
“If it’ll pad his pockets.”
Baker groans, and this time, I turn to face him.
“Need some Tums? Sounds like you have heartburn.”
He holds out his hand. “Hit me.”
I dig into my purse and pull out the bottle of chewables, dumping a few in his hand before he tosses them back.
Conversation flows easily as my gaze travels from group to group. Jett steps away from the table, finding Crew, Bret, and Carter sitting with his mom. I wave from my spot.
Heath finds a table of women staying at the resort for a bachelorette party. He’s pulling out the moves on all of them, and they’re eating out of the palm of his hand.
The volleyball tournament continues, and Saylor’s team is undefeated, with her spiking the ball in the sand for her team’s final point. People are gathered, watching, and cheering as the game comes to an end. Saylor tosses her arms in the air as she lets out a victorious shout. She looks over, flushed and glowing, as her gaze lands on Levi. From the corner of my eye, I catch the subtle thumbs-up he gives her. It’s enough to make her cheeks deepen from a flush pink to a dark red. Yeah, there’s something between those two. I’ll take a bucket of popcorn and the front-row seat when this movie hits theaters.
Hours seem to drift by like a butterfly in the summer breeze. Greer has disappeared among the masses. Baker left before her to set up for his show later this evening. Heath never came back from the bachelorette crew. Levi and I have kept our table from being taken. A table this weekend is a hot commodity; there's no way we were abandoning ship.
“Having fun?” Jett asks quietly. His skin feels like a live wire against mine.
I nod. “So much.”
And I mean it.
This afternoon, I’ve been able to forget about the shitstorm swirling around us.
I know the storm is brewing, but it can wait.
Right now, it’s summer in Silo Bay.
The town is alive, living in the moment.
And for once, so am I.
Chapter 41
Jett
“Youlookweird,”Levisays, eyebrows quirking as he stares at me.
I snort and lift my beer. “Thanks?”
“You’ve had a smile on your face all night. Kind of giving serial killer vibes.”
“Says the guy who glares at everyone.”
Leaning back in his chair, his eyes drift past me toward the crowd like they’ve been doing all night. “Having a teenage daughter is going to be the death of me. I don’t know how to relax. I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop…or a text requesting more money.”
“She’s a good kid. Ran over to Wren and I at the craft fair. Most teenagers wouldn’t acknowledge adults.”
Levi types away on his phone, grumbling under his breath.
I take a long pull of my beer and lean back. The Spillway is packed, but not suffocating, since most people are outside waiting for the fireworks show to start. Music pulses from speakers around the bar linked to the jukebox, heavy enough to vibrate through the soles of my shoes. It’s the kind of place that smells like beer, sweat, and nostalgia.
I track Wren without meaning to. It’s like she’s a magnet and I’m a pile of metal, destined to find her in every room.
She’s on the makeshift dance floor—a patch of floor where tables have been shoved aside. Her red sundress flows around her thighs with every twist and spin. Damp hair clings to hertemples, leaving tiny curls along her hairline. Leaning forward, she’s singing off-key into her fist as if it were a microphone, as Greer mimics her. Alcohol has a way of lowering inhibitions, but this is the Wren I remember most when I close my eyes at night. Dancing without a care in the world. It never mattered if she was out of rhythm or making a fool of herself; she was in her own carefree bubble.
