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His Uber driver had to go slower than usual and skirt around piles of driftwood, dirt, and leaves, and Bastian could see where more of the coastline had eroded since he’d been here last, but the cottage looked solid and unshakable in the dawn light. He hadn’t seen the renovations yet, so he was looking forward to that; anything his mother did had class and style.
He thanked his driver when he got out, grabbed his suitcase and took a moment to admire the sun peeking through the clouds over a sparkling ocean that was just beginning to settle down.
There was nowhere like Mariners. It was good to be back, he decided, and dragged his suitcase to the front door.
Bo had awakened early, as usual, but the sun hadn’t come up yet, so there was nothing he could do to fix his bungalow. He needed light and dry weather. He told himself he’d have to stay where he was for a bit and spent at least an hour studying the beauty of Ismay’s face before drifting off again.
It was the sound of the door swinging against the inside wall that jarred him awake and a booming voice that said, “Honey, I’m home!”
Shocked by the sudden intrusion, Bo jumped up, prepared to defend himself and Ismay, if necessary.
“Whoa! Calm down, Buckeroo,” the same voice said. “What have we here?”
One of the Windsor twins—Bo hadn’t seen them often enough to be able to tell them apart—stood in the doorway. With all the light coming from behind, Bo couldn’t make out the expression on his face, but the sound of his voice was a sneer.
Bo immediately began to gather up the bedding he’d been using as Ismay pushed herself up on one elbow, her eyes still filled with sleep. “What—what is it?” she said, blinking at their visitor.“Remy?”
“Yeah, it’s me, babe. How about a big wet, sloppy kiss before we head back to the bedroom?” Their visitor laughed uproariously, and she scrambled to her feet.
“You’re not Remy,” she said.
“Darn. You figured it out. You should’ve taken me up on the offer while you had a good excuse. After all, there is one marked difference between us, and all the ladies we’ve known can attest to it.” He winked before gesturing at the evidence of their sleeping arrangements. “Sorry to ruin your little campout. I had no idea you had company.”
“Bo’s not company,” she said, fixing her tank top since the strap had fallen off her shoulder.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Bo saw Bastian’s gaze fall to her chest and knew exactly what he was looking at, because he’d been keenly aware of her breasts beneath that white cotton ever since she’d gone into the bathroom to change for bed. Fortunately, she was still wearing yoga pants, so he didn’t think the scene appearedtoodamning.
The Bastian he knew, however, would exploit it for all it was worth. That was the concern. What would he say to Remy? And to Mort and Annabelle?
Bo was as worried for Ismay as he was for himself. Remy had already made it clear, even to her over the phone, that he didn’t want Bo at the cottage.
“He’snotcompany?” Bastian said. “He lives here, then?”
“The power’s out at his house—and a tree fell and crashed into his living room,” she explained. “It’s currently flooded.”
“I see.” He looked between them. “Then how nice of you to take him in.”
“I would’ve taken in anyone who didn’t have a place to stay,” she clarified, obviously hearing the same suggestive tone Bo did. “And I assumed you and your family would want me to share the shelter of this beautiful house with the person who cares for it in your absence.”
“Of course, we would,” he said, feigning concern.
Bo felt his muscles tense. He hated being beholden to such a little bastard. But it was this bastard’s mother he worked for. He had to remind himself of that. And he had a good situation here on Mariners, couldn’t do anything to screw it up.
“What—what are you doing here, anyway?” Ismay asked, going on the offensive. “Remy didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I didn’t know I had to make him—or you—aware of my itinerary.”
She looked abashed. “I—I didn’t mean that. I’m just so surprised to see you.”
He laughed. “Obviously.”
“Why are you acting like this?” she asked. “We haven’t done anything wrong, and the insinuation is offensive.”
“Don’t mind me. I’m sure you’re both as innocent as the day is long. You just look guilty,” he added with a laugh.
Her mouth dropped open. “I... What?”
“I’m kidding.” Bastian waved away his words. “You actually look good enough to eat, if you know what I mean.”
