FORKING THE BILLIONAIRE

ACCIDENTALLY SMITTEN BOOK 3

KEIRA BLACKWOOD

Copyright © 2024 Keira Blackwood

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.

Edited by Liza Street

ONE

ESME

There’s no good way to hide a lizard in your pants. Fortunately for me, I wasn’t wearing pants.

Not even cargo pockets could contain the little squirmers with their sticky toes and endless escape tactics. I’d learned my lesson the last time, or more accurately, over the course of the last three times testing different pocket styles.

Last week, trial three had concluded with the terrified anole leaping out of my pants, plopping into a customer’s mojito, and being mistaken for a lime. Of course that misperception only lasted about ten seconds, at which point the guy lifted his drink to his lips, then the anole sprung from the glass and landed in his wife’s hair.

Ever since that night, I made a conscious effort to always wear a dress with big, Santa’s-sack-sized pockets for optimal lizard storage during my shifts at Rum Bum Tiki Tavern. Today was no exception.

The plan: snatch up every adrift anole before Rufus could.

The stakes: life or death.

Upbeat ukulele played through the speakers, sweet and fatty scents drifted from the kitchen, and empty glasses reflected the ceiling fan’s spinning blades. A handful of patrons enjoyed their meals at the outdoor tables on the patio. There was a good three hours left until the evening rush. The only people inside the building were my friends Ziggy and Sage sitting on tiki head stools across the bar from me, Rufus in the back, and the lizard I’d just tucked away in my right pocket. That’s right, lizards count as people.

“Kill it!” Rufus barreled out of the kitchen.

He wasn’t a large man, or particularly imposing in any way, even with a scowl on his face and a spatula waving in his fist like a weapon. But, he was my boss.

Since I needed use of my hands to prove I wasn’t up to any shenanigans, I leaned my hip against the bar to keep the top of my pocket sealed. I dropped the lemons I’d just sliced into their little bin and feigned ignorance. “Kill what?”

“You know what.” Despite his murderous intent, his sour expression, and his snarly tone, Rufus was actually a lovely person. He had trench-deep laugh lines and crow's feet to prove it. “Same scourge I’m forced to fight every single day of my life.”

Even though he was talking to Rufus, Ziggy’s dark eyes narrowed at me. “You might not want to talk so loudly about scourges.”

“Or let customers know you’re planning to deal the death blow with the same tool you use to flip their burgers.” Sage turned her blueberry gaze to the rusty spatula in Rufus’s fist.

Rufus glared at each of them in turn. “You both know this is my anole smasher. It never touched a bit of food in its life, never will.”

“But do the customers know that?” Sage raised a brow, nearly as bushy and equally as gray as Rufus’s.

Rufus grumbled, shook his head, then leveled a beseeching gaze at me. “These two don’t count as customers. No one else is here. If they were, I’d explain the truth to them myself. Now I swear one of them dirty little anole menaces slipped through that door not thirty seconds before me. You didn’t see it, Esme?”

See the lizard? Yes, I had. I’d also scooped him up. He was wiggling wildly against my thigh at this very moment. And it happened about one minute and forty-five seconds before Rufus had burst out of the kitchen, not thirty seconds ago.

I shrugged.

Rufus grumbled again. “Fine. But you let me know when you spot it.”

“Sure.” I offered him a friendly, there’s-not-an-anole-in-my-pocket smile.

Temporarily appeased, he stomped back into the kitchen. I watched him from the corner of my eye, biding my time until I could make my move. Experience told me it would take him about sixty-seven seconds at his current stomping speed for him to make it back to the stool he liked to sit on while he waited for an order to be placed.

Ziggy leaned across the bar, a devious grin on his face. “Goodness me, Esme. Is that a lizard in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

I leaned in, smiled back, and said, “Neither.”

Sage snorted. Ziggy dropped his shoulders in mock defeat.

About fifty-six seconds after Rufus had started his stomping, I made a run for the door, carefully keeping my pocket sealed without squishing the tiny dude hiding inside.

Beaming sunlight greeted me as I stepped across the threshold, along with a cool, salty breeze from the ocean, and the kind of warm air that felt like a hug from nature. The little island of Calypso Caribella had no right to feel so amazingly inviting in what was supposed to be winter, but I wasn’t one to complain. The glory of the island’s perpetual summer vibes wasn’t why I was here, but it was a big part of why I’d chosen to stay.

A sudden wave of nausea hit me, not an uncommon occurrence as of late. I’d thought it was just an adjustment to the differences in water, but I was starting to think it might be something else, like a spice allergy or something. As quickly as it hit, the nausea faded.

I circled halfway around the building, sidled up to the bush near the dumpster, and did a quick scan of the area. I could hear people chatting on the deck and the crashing of waves from the beach beyond. I couldn’t see anyone, though. And most importantly, there was no sign of Rufus.

I pulled my pocket open.

Immediately, the lizard catapulted himself out and through the air like he was as desperate to be rid of me as I was to free him. He landed in the bush, bounced on a branch, and clung tight before disappearing into the leafy depths.

“Don’t come back,” I said. “There’s nothing good for you in there.”

If I’d had time to deposit the lizard farther away, that would have been ideal. But, the longer I was out here, the more likely it was that Rufus would realize I was gone. Satisfied with the rescue, I headed back around the building.

I was currently taking my own advice, too. No one back home in Epiphany, North Carolina was going to literally crush me with a metal tool, but I’d been crushed in other ways my whole life. My older brother Gabe had the best intentions. It wasn’t his fault that our mother left us, or that our dad died. He’d stepped up in a big way after that. He’d tried to shield me, so much so that he ended up hiding things from me that he shouldn’t. It drove me a little crazy.

I didn’t need a replacement father. I needed a brother. He didn’t get that. He probably never would. That was fine. I couldn’t be what he wanted me to be, either.

And after The Incident, I knew with certainty that a huge, world-altering change was for the best. I couldn’t keep living my old life anymore. I needed a fresh start all on my own, a brand spanking new life. I wasn’t going back.

As soon as I stepped inside, I spotted two new people standing by the bar and arguing loudly. I recognized them immediately. The Maloneys had been vacationing at the resort for five days.

Fred Maloney looked to be in his seventies. The long incisors that peaked out over his bottom lip would have given him the appearance of a vampire if not for the roundness of his smooth head and his lack of chin. Then there was his gray skin and his whiskers—long, wispy hair that fell from the balls of his cheeks. His resemblance to a walrus was striking.

Mona Maloney looked to be about my age, so barely legal. She wasn’t wearing her glasses today, which was unusual. Also, she bore no resemblance to any aquatic wildlife.

Ziggy shot me a wild-eyed look, while Sage sipped audibly through her straw and watched the couple’s heated discussion.

“If not you, then who?” Mona threw her hands in the air.

I circled around behind the bar.

“Housekeeping? They didn’t take any of my jewelry,” Mona said. “If someone’s going to steal, you’d think they’d take something worthwhile.”

Housekeeping never stole anything from anyone at the resort. The entire department consisted of one pleasant couple—the Barleys—who had been doing the job for forty-ish years and genuinely enjoyed their work and their life here. They were good people.

“You’re just confused. It happens,” Fred yelled at his wife. He turned to me, still yelling. “Two piña coladas. Keep them coming.”

I didn’t take his tone personally as I got to work on their drinks. As far as I could tell, all they ever did was fight and make out. The former was far less scarring to watch.

Mona pointed a finger at Sage. “Did you steal my glasses?”

Sage adjusted her own thick glasses, which magnified her bright blue eyes into gigantic globes. “Unless the lenses are thicker than your head, they wouldn’t do me any favors.”

Mona pivoted, shoving her finger toward Ziggy.

Ziggy put his hands up like he was getting robbed. “Nope. Not me. Not anyone. It looks like they’re sticking out of your back pocket. Maybe try checking yourself a little more thoroughly before you start throwing around accusations next time.”

Mona visibly shook with a rumbling, whole-body growl. “Those are not my glasses. My glasses were stolen. These monstrosities were left in their place.”

She pulled an oversized pair of orange sunglasses out from behind her and slapped them down on the counter. They belonged on a clown’s face or in a box of joke photo props. They were pretty awesome, actually, and way more fun than the librarian-esque prescription frames she’d worn every other time I’d seen her.

I wasn’t convinced any theft had occurred at all. But if someone actually did steal Mona’s glasses, it was her husband. He probably thought they’d get along better if they couldn’t see each other.

“Sounds like the ghosts are back at it,” Sage said.

“You think?” Ziggy asked.

I examined my friends’ expressions as I slid a cherry onto each tiny umbrella and placed them in the frozen cocktails. They appeared to be completely serious. No one had mentioned anything about ghosts in the six weeks that I’d lived here on the island.

I set the drinks in front of Fred and Mona. Mona took them both.

“I’m going to need these,” she said. “Make another for him.”

She headed out to one of the umbrella-covered tables on the deck, leaving her husband standing there shifting foot to foot with an argument on his lips and a pout in his pants.

“Ghosts?” I asked Sage as I set to work on another drink for Fred. “Why am I only now hearing about this?”

“It was before your time.” She pushed her empty glass toward me. “Used to be all kinds of accounts of haunting around here, ever since the old resort was abandoned.”

I filled her glass from the pitcher of virgin margaritas I’d made as soon as I saw her coming this morning.

“The island’s been quiet for a while now.” Sage grinned her thanks, with an extra spark of mischief in her eyes. “A ghostly revival could be good for business.”

“Your business,” Ziggy said. “And only in the short term. People get hard-ons for card readings when they think the island is haunted. Word spreads too far, people won’t want to come to the resort at all.”

Fred’s gray face turned exceptionally white. “Do you really think there are ghosts?”

I handed him his drink. “Don’t worry, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Ziggy chuckled.

Fred shot him a concerned glare then slowly followed after his wife.

“No such thing?” Sage shook her head. “You won’t think that once you see one.”

Seeing one would be difficult since they were make-believe. For most people, when experiences turned into memories, data was lost. Brains filled in those gaps to complete the stories. My brain was wired wrong and didn’t work like that. It would have been easier if it did.

Without judgment, I asked Sage, “Have you seen a ghost?”

“Here we go,” Ziggy said.

Sage swatted his shoulder, but kept her focus on me. “Oh yes, many times.”

I looked over the deep wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, over the somehow blank but also knowing expression she’d perfected over a lifetime of reading auras and telling tourists their futures. I couldn’t tell if believing in ghosts was part of her shtick or if it was her truth. If she didn’t really believe it, she was a stellar liar.

“I grew up in a haunted house,” she said.

Ziggy twisted his lips and shot her a side-eye.

“The Halloween kind?” I asked.

“Silly girl, the real kind.” Sage leaned forward, conspiratorially. “The spirit moved things at first, confusing and later terrifying my parents. I was never afraid, though. Because of this, she began leaving me messages in the bathroom mirror.”

“Fascinating,” I said, because it was. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, if Sage had been a really lonely kid who made up an imaginary friend to fight that loneliness. I’d wanted an imaginary friend when I was a kid, but my brain was too practical or something, because I never could get myself to believe in it.

“Messages like murder your parents?” Ziggy shot her a wry look.

“Nothing like that.” Sage sucked up a long sip through her straw. “Her name was Endora. She inspired my love of the supernatural.”

I was about to ask what kind of message exactly this “ghost” did leave, but my phone buzzed in my left pocket. I pulled it out and checked to see who it was.

Gabriel.

“Now it looks like you’ve seen a ghost, too, Esme,” Ziggy said with a soft chuckle.

His voice sounded distant as a rush of anxious energy coursed through me.

“I have to take this.” I took a breath, steeled myself, and answered with forced enthusiasm. “Hey, Gabe.”

Sage spun her straw. Ziggy twisted in his seat. They looked at the ceiling, at each other, everywhere but at me, pretending they weren’t listening.

“Esme, hello,” Gabe said in his stiff, too-formal way.

“You never call me,” I said. “I call you.”

“And I always believe something must be wrong when you call,” Gabe said.

Just like I was feeling right now. “Uh-huh. It’s our thing. You lather yourself in routine. I burst holes in that monotony to keep you on your toes. If you change that delicate balance, who knows, the world could implode.”

“I have news.”

Of course he didn’t respond to my joke. But this news…was it bad news? It had to be bad news or he wouldn’t call me on a weekday during business hours. He was supposed to be in his lab, waist-deep in algae sludge, creating some brilliant scientific breakthrough that would, after a startling lab accident that was definitely someone else’s fault because Gabriel Stryker was infallible, transform him into his ultimate form—flying superhero Captain Planet.

Something had to be wrong with Oma or Uncle Wallace, or the fate of humanity. That was the only explanation for this phone call.

I held my breath, clenched my butt cheeks, and braced for the impending misfortune.

“Layana and I have decided to wed,” Gabe said.

That was not the world-shattering bad news I’d expected. That was good⁠—

“In Calypso Caribella,” he said. “On March tenth. We’ll arrive on Friday the fourth.”

The fourth was only eight days away.

“That’s….” My brain couldn’t process. I heard the words. I understood them. But they didn’t make any sense.

Calypso Caribella was supposed to be my sanctuary, offering me safe asylum from the life I’d desperately fled. My old life wasn’t supposed to follow me here.

Since I hadn’t offered an appropriate response after a long pause, Gabe continued, “It is important to me that you are involved in the wedding, so we’ve chosen to bring the celebration to you. I’d like you to be by my side.”

These were nice words, with nice sentiments behind them. But the part that repeated in my head didn’t feel nice—Gabe was coming here, in eight freaking days.

Say something. Be supportive.

“You have to ask her to be a groomsbabe.” Layana’s loud whisper carried through the line. “It’s not implied. Make sure to ask her outright.”

My chest felt numb, like my heart had stopped beating and my lungs had stopped breathing. My mouth wouldn’t move. Words wouldn’t come out.

“Did her eye just twitch?” Sage whispered to Ziggy. “I think her eye just twitched.”

Ziggy nodded slowly. The pair of them had apparently given up on pretending they weren’t listening to my conversation. Instead, they both openly stared at me with looks of intense interest and mild concern.

“I’d like you to be a grooms…woman,” Gabe said. “If you’re willing.”

“Of course.” Finally, I’d managed to speak. “Yes. That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

Layana seemed awesome during the short conversations I’d had with her. Her reality show and blog had offered way more insights into her life. My conclusion—she was perfect for him, just the right amount of trouble to push Gabe out of his boring routine of grumpiness and control.

The joy I was supposed to be feeling would come. I’d start feeling it any moment now. Right?

TWO

JASPER

Nothing thrilled me more than tearing out a section of twenty-year-old soiled carpet and finding original hardwood floors hidden beneath. Except maybe dawn on the Atlantic, when low tide was on the rise, creating the perfect sandbar breaks. I’d sit on my board and watch the perfect six-foot barrel form, its surface smooth and filled with promise.

A no-strings-attached fuck session wasn’t bad, either.

The sales rep from Knot Your Average Rug—Jules—lay her head and chest on the kitchen counter. She remained naked from the waist down, sated and content.

I tossed the condom and zipped my pants.

“We should do this again soon,” she panted against the granite.

I grabbed her pencil skirt and panties from the floor and tossed them onto the counter where she could reach them. “It’s been fun. But like I told you yesterday, I don’t do more than two nights.”

“With the same woman, yeah, I remember. But it’s not night yet. The sun’s still up. You owe me at least one more orgasm before our time expires.”

Even though her face was turned, I could hear the smile in her words. I smiled, too. Jules was fun.

Technically she was right. We’d had sex yesterday morning and again this afternoon. Only one night had passed. But sex two days in a row was a hard limit for me. Seeing her again tonight could end with two days turning into three.

“Can’t risk it,” I said.

She peeled herself from the surface and slipped on her skirt. Her cheeks were flushed, and the twist she’d worn her hair in was all but undone.

She fixed her hair, smoothing the blond strands back into a single sleek shape. “Afraid you’ll catch feelings? You shouldn’t be. I’d have to have them for it to be contagious, Jack.”

“It’s Jasper,” I told her, as if it mattered.

She shrugged. “Close enough.”

Sure, she said she was only interested in casual sex now. But desires could change. Allow a few days to turn into a few weeks and all of a sudden she’d start leaving a toothbrush on my sink and inviting me to dinner with her family. I shivered at the thought.

No more than two nights. No shared meals. No feelings. Better to be up front with my boundaries from the start.

Offer me a chance to hang out with my brothers or my friends, that was a different story. Whenever my younger half-brother Sebastian was home between his vacations, we went climbing in the mountains. There was a group of guys I met up with whenever I went to the beach to surf. But it was near impossible to peel my older half-brother Oscar or my best friend Gabriel away from their work to hang out.

Jules smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt, then pulled a large binder out of her bag.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The catalog you called me to bring over. It’s the reason I’m here, remember?”

“Right.”

“Based on our initial meeting, I flagged my carpet recommendations for the upstairs bedrooms and a few rug options that would work well in the living room. You’ll love the hand-knotted silk one on page one twenty-four.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you mind if I use the powder room before I go?”

The soft chimes of the doorbell echoed through the first floor. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but it was possible the delivery for the bathroom tile was early.

“Of course not.” I pointed toward the hall. “Second door on the right.”

“A pleasure doing business with you.” She flashed me a coy grin.

I chuckled. “You, too.”

I headed the other direction through the living room, to greet the delivery guy. But when I opened the door, I found a familiar and unexpected face.

For half a second, I just stared at Gabriel, trapped in that stunned feeling I’d get as a kid running into a teacher at the arcade, like my mind couldn’t make sense of this person being outside of their usual context. I tried to recall a time Gabriel had come to one of my project houses, but I couldn’t think of a single one.

“Hey, man. I’m surprised to see you,” I said, opening the door wide for him. “Come in.”

“Is this a good time?” he asked, his feet anchored in place on the steps.

I offered him a heartfelt grin. “Always.”

He clapped my shoulder as he entered the house.

“It’s not like you to be out of the office on a weekday,” I said. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and took in our surroundings, from the narrow windows that needed to be custom built to fit the original shape to the reclaimed wood used to frame the door. Every detail was both a modernization and an homage to the building’s rich history.

The tight expression on his face remained the same. If he had thoughts on my work, he didn’t show them. Instead, I deciphered that he wanted to tell me something, but he was still working out the right words. I didn’t mind waiting.

“Want to see more of Brenda?” I asked.

The slight raise of his brow told me he was curious before he opened his mouth to respond.

“Why choose Brenda?”

The emphasis in his question made a lightbulb go off in my head.

Gabriel knew I gave all of my project houses women’s names. There was no question I’d do the same with this fine lady with her wraparound porch and lovely pillars. What he really wanted to know was if I’d named her after Brenda Mitchell.

I hadn’t thought about Brenda Mitchell in at least ten years. I certainly hadn’t named a house after her.

“The name means sword. The shape of the nails holding her front door together were uniquely sword-shaped. I kept a couple. They’re back at my place if you’d like to see.”

Lines formed on his forehead. “It has nothing to do with the girl who lived down the street from us when we were kids?”

“Why would I name a house after the girl who gave you your first kiss?”

“Brenda Mitchell was your first kiss, too.”

She wasn’t, actually. But I could never tell Gabriel that.

I grinned and shook my head. “It’s just a name.”

“All right.”

“So about that tour….”

“Sure. Show me more of Brenda.”

“Railing here is custom, made by a guy in the mountains who sources all of his wood locally.” I ran my finger over the rail as I headed up the stairs. “He’s spent a lifetime finetuning his craft.”

“It shows,” Gabriel said.

Upstairs, I gestured toward the shell of what would be the primary bedroom. “There are some adjustments needed with the plumbing before we can move forward here. This is the primary. Both the secondary bedroom and the study are further along.”

“The colors in the finished rooms are nice,” Gabriel said. “Very…warm.”

“Brenda’s inviting,” I told him. “Always was.”

“Mm,” he said, noncommittally.

“After her restoration’s complete, everyone will be able to see how beautiful she’s always been.”

As we went back downstairs, I could feel the weight of his intense attention on my back. Whatever had brought him here, whatever he wanted to say, was almost done baking.

We’d been friends for fifteen years, ever since I moved in next door to him when I was twelve and he was fourteen. He’d always been reserved, except for those rare moments when he let down his guard. Everything always needed to be precise with him, including the words he chose, like the stakes in every part of his life were impossibly high.

“Fireplace in the living room is killer,” I said, leading him that way.

“Jasper.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him. His brown eyes flashed with intensity. Whatever he was about to tell me, it was big.

He said, “Layana and I have decided to marry.”

My chest felt light. I grabbed Gabriel with both arms and pulled him in for a hug. “Congratulations, man. I’m so happy for you.”

As a general rule, there was no such thing as lasting love or happily ever after. Marriage trapped people together as they slowly grew apart. Still, I hoped Gabriel and Layana would be an exception. They were both good people who brought out the best in each other.

I sincerely hoped it lasted.

Aside from my brother Oscar and his future wife Morgan, I couldn’t think of any other times I’d seen two people fit so well together. If anyone could defy the natural order of things, it was Gabriel and Oscar.

The universe must have reached its love quota for the city for the next century.

Gabriel gave me a pat on the back as I released him. “We’ve decided to have the ceremony as soon as possible.”

That was very unlike Gabriel. “Wow.”

His jaw clenched. “Do you oppose our decision?”

“Of course not. It’s just not like you to do anything as soon as possible.”

“I want to commit my life to her,” he said. “I don’t want to stress over the details for the next twelve to twenty-four months. I simply want her to be mine.”

“All right,” I said. “So, Vegas? I better be your best man.”

“I’d like nothing more than for you to be my best man. But not Vegas. Calypso Caribella, a small island in the Caribbean. March tenth. We fly out on the fourth. What do you say?”

That really was soon. Only a week away.

“Obviously I’m in,” I said. There would be a lot of work required to reschedule any deliveries and specialists that my assistant Marc couldn’t be here for. But Gabriel didn’t need to know that. Supporting him was worth any inconvenience.

“Great. Esme will be my second groomsman. She currently resides on the island.”

Tightness crept across my shoulders. A month or so ago, Gabriel had mentioned in passing that his little sister was overseas. I’d assumed she was vacationing, not that she’d moved to an entirely different country.

It’d been years since I’d seen Esme, but she’d always had a way of getting under my skin. She turned everything into a competition. Worse, she had an absurd memory capacity, which meant she never let anyone live anything down.

“Hello.” Gabriel flicked his attention past me.

I turned, confused as to who he was speaking to.

There stood Jules from Knot Your Average Rug, who had apparently not let herself out yet.

“Hi. I’m Julienne, like the knife cut. But you can call me Jules like the gemmed rings on my toes.” She chuckled softly and offered him her hand.

Gemmed rings? Why would she say that? With the flush of color in her cheeks…was she trying to flirt with him?

“Nice to meet you.” Gabriel shook her hand then looked back and forth between us. “You two are….”

She grinned like the Cheshire cat.

“You must join us in Calypso Caribella for an all-expense-paid trip for my wedding.” Gabriel smiled in a way that said he’d done a good thing. He thought he was helping me out by inviting my fuck buddy along. “The more the merrier.”

“I couldn’t impose,” Jules said.

I cleared my throat to set the record straight, to fix this before the situation spiraled out of my control.

“I insist,” Gabriel said with an air of finality. “It will be great.”

A knot formed in the center of my chest. I needed to say no. A destination wedding meant more than two nights in a row with the same woman. It meant extended conversations and shared meals.

Jules squeezed my arm and looked at me with pure, unfettered glee. Gabriel looked at me with his version of the same, which was reserved in typical Gabriel fashion, more hopeful expectation than anything else.

This was Gabriel’s wedding. It wasn’t about me.

The knot in my chest tightened as my conviction wavered.

It was only a few extra nights. Jules was only interested in casual sex. She hadn’t even bothered to learn my name. Was the risk truly that high?

When I looked Jules in the eyes, I saw not even a glimpse of adoration, only the promise of a good time.

When I looked at Gabriel, I saw openness, and goodwill. He wanted to do a kind thing for me.

I couldn’t disappoint him.

I nodded. “It will be great.”

She didn’t have feelings for me. She was fun. Better yet, she’d give me a good excuse to keep my distance from Esme. Yeah, this was sounding like a better and better idea the more I thought about it. What was the worst thing that could happen?

THREE

ESME

With adrenaline causing me to rev like a turbo-injected engine, I scanned the swanky ballroom filled with Epiphany’s elite. Graceful women glided across the marble floor in gorgeous gowns that probably cost more than the farmhouse I grew up in. An entire mine’s worth of diamonds sparkled on their necks and ears. Less decorated, but carrying an equal air of wealth and superiority, were men in crisp tuxes and fancy suits.

A distant voice in the recesses of my brain reminded me that this was a dream and a memory. My body was unconscious in the present, a billion miles away, and probably open-mouthed snoring.

Everyone but the waiters weaving through the room wore a small, feathery animal-esque mask.

It was a costume party. I knew that going in. Unfortunately, the invitation hadn’t specified what kind of costume to wear. More unfortunately, I’d dressed in shimmery body paint, a headpiece I’d hot glued together, and a patchwork dress decorated with bubble wrap and streamers. Compared to the picturesque Victorian perfection around me, I looked like a dumpster alien, instead of the Ridley Scott-esque alien vibe I was going for.

Then again, anonymity was a shield. Confidence was power.

I sauntered by faux-confidently owning my look and drawing stares. No one knew who I was, and not only because three quarters of my face was hidden behind a pair of reflective goggles.

No one knew me because I wasn’t one of them. I was an intruder, a fraud, an infiltrator, buzzing with the thrill of my ruse.

The invitation stashed in my pocket was addressed to my brother. I hadn’t stolen it. He’d crumpled it and left it in the trash, which meant it was fair game.

This was my moment, the one where I threw caution to the wind and became the wild and free Esme I’d always wanted to be.

I strode straight through the crowd like I owned this mansion. I didn’t pause until I stood in the center of the massive room, beneath the shimmery crystal chandelier. People danced to the live orchestra playing in the corner. People chatted.

I had no idea what I’d say if someone tried to talk to me. Tea? Crumpets? Were those fancy things or just British things?

What even was a crumpet?

This scenario was so foreign to me, I might as well have stepped through a magical portal into another world. My nerves twisted and my lungs felt light in a biting combination of nervous excitement.

A server lowered her tray toward me as she passed.

“Alcohol?” I asked, unsure if that was another line I was going to cross tonight.

“No, ma’am.”

I plucked a flute of what looked like champagne from the tray and said my thanks.

I lifted the glass to my nose. It smelled like autumn, like freedom.

Screw worries about not belonging here. I belonged anywhere I wanted to be. No one could stop me from doing whatever I pleased.

I took a sip. Cinnamon and nutmeg bubbles danced over my tongue, with notes of pumpkin and apple. It was a divine sparkling cider.

I tipped back the glass and claimed a second.

Wake up!

I shot upright, heart racing, waking to bright morning light pouring through the curtains. I was in my bed, in my beach bungalow in Calypso Caribella, sadly interrupted from my dream.

I shook the warm giddy feeling from my chest.

The costume party was the absolute most fun I’d ever had in my life, which made even thinking about it dangerous. It was a reminder of just how out of control I could be if I let myself. It scared me what kind of person lurked deep down inside of me.

I blew out a breath and collapsed onto the mattress. My heart still thumped like a rabbit’s foot against my ribs, even as I told myself to let go of what happened. I stared up at the ceiling, at the slowly turning fan blades that looked like bleached palm fronds.

It was over. The dream, the reliving of First Contact—done. Except with a cursed brain like mine, nothing was ever really forgotten. Every single detail I recorded stayed with me for freaking ever, no matter how much safer it would be to forget.

I clutched my pillow to my chest and rolled over to check the clock.

Nine twenty-four.

Crap on a cracker. I was late.

Today was the big day. Gabe was coming, and I needed to leave ten minutes ago to greet him at the docks.

I flung off the covers and popped out of bed. The dress at the top of my slightly-worn pile on the nightstand looked clean enough. I gave it a sniff—old crab, jerk spice, and a heavy dose of hot dog breath. With a cringe and a gag, I dropped the stank dress on the floor and tested another from the other side of the pile.

The second dress only held a dash of nasty, which would have to do. I sprayed it with a good dose of strawberry watermelon body spray to cover the odor. Then I slapped a quick layer of lipstick over my pout, placed a big sun hat on my head to hide my clown-fro mess of hair, and jammed a slice of cinnamon swirl bread between my teeth on my way out the door.

There were cars on the island for traveling between the main resort area and the more remote areas, like the cliffs, Turtle Beach, and the tiny village. But most people walked just about everywhere. Loads of meandering vacationers were pretty much always standing in the way.

Fortunately, I had a secret weapon in my arsenal.

Even as I chomped on my breakfast, I raced at warp speed on my skateboard, weaving through foot traffic and startling a few unsuspecting human obstacles.

On the other side of the resort, the small field by the docks was mostly empty, not yet filled with newly arrived guests. Ziggy and the Zags played a cheerful welcome ditty on a small stage off to the side. Resort staff waited, watching the docks.

My lungs and calves burned. A clammy, grimy sheen clung to my skin. Whew, I’d made it. The anxious knot twisting in my guts immediately overpowered the fleeting sense of relief.

I set my skateboard in the grass and made my way toward the docks. Between the trees and the welcome crew, I spotted the small boats approaching the island.

I stepped up next to Stan, the head of hospitality at the resort. He was pretty much the Frenchest looking non-Frenchman I’d ever seen. If you Googled “French guy” and the first image that came up was tall, pale, had black hair and a thin mustache, a red ascot, and a speech bubble over his head that read “oui, oui!” and he was holding a baguette—that was Stan, sans-baguette.

He was an island native, and had never been to Europe.

“Good morning, Esme.” Stan twisted his thin finger in the curl at the end of his mustache. “I don’t usually see you at the welcome ceremonies.”

“I’m expecting someone. Multiple someones, actually.” I scanned the boats for familiar faces but palm fronds dangled in the way. “My brother’s getting married.”

“What joyous news.” His gentle smile dropped slightly as he looked me over.

“Yep, totally,” I said, practicing my best beaming grin.

I could feel his attention linger, but I ignored him and turned that megawatt grin on the first boat that pulled up to the shore.

Almost immediately, I spotted Layana with her gorgeous, raven-black hair. Except…she didn’t look quite like I remembered. And there were three of her.

As I approached the Layana triplets with their big sunglasses and regal cheekbones, I began spotting differences between them. They were sisters. And none of them was actually Layana.

With them were three people I recognized from What the What?, the reality show that made Layana famous—Morgan, Glitter, and Chester.

The welcome crew helped the not-Layanas and Layana’s friends out of the boat. Each guest received a lei of fresh flowers even though we weren’t in Hawaii, or even in the right Ocean for the custom.

The polite thing for me to do would be to introduce myself, so I made my way toward the group. But before I could open my mouth, I spotted the second boat.

I froze and stared.

Gabe, the real Layana, and…ugh. Jasper Carrington.

His sun-kissed hair was longer than I’d ever seen it, brushing his shoulders. His white shirt was unbuttoned two buttons too far, revealing peeks of tattoos he hadn’t had the last time I’d seen him. And his easy smile crinkled his nose. Even though he just arrived, he looked completely at home in my tropical environment, which he had no right to do. He looked even more at home with the supermodel who was curled against his side.

I should have expected my brother would want his best friend at his wedding. But I hadn’t thought about it. I’d been too worried about what it would be like having Gabe here, judging my new life, that I hadn’t even considered Jasper.

I turned my attention to the happy couple—the important one—Layana and Gabe. They looked good, too. Better than Jasper and his date.

“Esme. It’s good to see you.” Gabe shoved his hands into his pockets.

Without saying a word, I felt his thoughts—I hadn’t taken the appropriate time to brush my hair, my dress was too wrinkled and smelled vaguely like lizard farts, my best would never be enough. The weight of his judgment pressed down on me. I straightened my spine and stood taller to counteract the pressure of it.

“Good to see you, too.” I gave him a bro-style head nod.

Layana stepped up, beaming at me. She was taller than I expected, and even prettier than she appeared on TV.

“You’re real,” she said.

“So are you.” I poked her cheek. “You’re not secretly an android my brother built so he could finally secure the perfect wife?”

She laughed. “I don’t think so, but if I were, I’m pretty sure he would have programmed me not to know.”

I grinned wide at her. She was awesome. “How was your trip?”

“Good. Long,” she said. “I’m so glad we’re finally here. We’re getting married.”

“I know!” I laughed. “It’s crazy.”

I glanced around for Oma before remembering that Gabriel had insisted she stay home and rest since she was just getting over a cold.

The not-Layanas and WTW peeps joined us.

Layana said, “Esme, this is Morgan and Oscar, Juno and Chester, and these three are my sisters—Luna, Lindsey, and Lydia.”

“That’s a lot of L’s. Nice to meet everyone,” I said, noting that she’d introduced Glitter Galore as Juno. Glitter had to be a stage name.

Juno was already posing and snapping pics with her phone.

“I think you already know Jasper, right?” Layana asked me.

I nodded. “We’ve met once or twice.”

We’d grown up together. Jasper and I had been best friends first, back when he first moved in next door. Then Jasper and I had been enemies. And then we’d been nothing to each other, which was exactly what we were now. I had every reason not to speak with him at all until he eventually left my island and my life for good.

“They know each other,” Gabe said.

I gave Jasper the same bro nod I’d given my brother. He smiled at me in turn, a tighter, faker smile than he’d sported before he saw me. There were no wrinkles on his nose, no warmth in his eyes when he looked at me. Still, or maybe because of that, the knot in my guts tightened.

“And this is his date, Jules,” Layana said. “Do you know her, too?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Jules said, with a neutral tone and a quick glance in my direction.

She was a real-life Barbie doll, minus the smile.

Another two boats unloaded people onto the shore. One of the resort servers broke through ranks, handed out tropical drinks, and began guiding people over toward the stage. As he held his tray out to me, memories flooded my brain.

Sparkling cider had smacked my taste buds in the best way.

I was a janky alien in a forest surrounded by swanky fauna, and I loved it.

I’d never felt so free or giddy in my entire life.

Except that night would not free me from anything. It ended up shocking me into realizing how screwed up I truly was.

So much for putting First Contact out of my head.

And soon my brother would be here to reinforce my failings.

Bile rose up my throat.

I shook my head at the server offering me a drink. “No thank you.”

Even as the server moved on, stomach acid lingered in my throat. I should have grabbed two slices of bread before attempting to tackle this morning.

Maybe a freak storm would come. A tornado would drop down out of nowhere, shoot me straight up into the sky, and then disappear. I’d reinvent myself as a cloud person, make friends with the seagulls, and everything else would fade away.

People around me chatted with palpable excitement. My feet moved as I walked with them, a part of the group but also completely alone.

We stopped in front of the stage.

The sound of the music grounded me, mellowing my erratic brain. I swayed to the familiar song, lips moving as I mouthed the words my friend was singing.

My eyes met Ziggy’s.

There, I found warmth and solace.

He hopped down from the stage, grabbed me by the waist, ripped me right off the ground, and whisked me straight up to the sky.

FOUR

JASPER

Esme squealed as a stranger put his hands on her.

My mouth went dry with startled concern. My fingers flexed to tear his hands away. I took a step forward before I realized what I was doing. But then I saw her face, the delighted expression that sparked her inner light. When she was happy, she shone brighter than the moon on a cloudless night. She always had.

She was brutal and blinding. She always made sure everyone knew exactly what she was thinking and exactly how she felt. She said the quiet parts out loud and held nothing back, no matter how inappropriate, and no matter who she’d hurt.

I breathed in slow and steady as I watched her dance across the stage. Her dotted white dress spun around her thighs as she twirled. She was a box of lit fireworks, dangerous when close, explosively beautiful from afar.

The woman playing a steel drum handed the instrument to her. Esme picked up the tune exactly like she’d done this a thousand times. Maybe she had. I knew nothing of her life anymore. I knew nothing of the person she’d become.

The last time I’d seen her was about four years ago. At the time, she’d recently received her driver’s license. She’d tried, unsuccessfully, to manipulate Gabriel into letting her drive him to a science award ceremony.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

Her childhood cherub cheeks were now long gone. Her hips were wider. Everything about her seemed to have amplified with time, including the sharpness of the scowl she lobbed at me.

She’d always been self-assured. She’d always been fearless. She’d always been a vortex, drawing everyone around her in. That clearly hadn’t changed.

It was like she couldn’t help herself. She had to put on a show, make herself the center of attention, even when everyone’s focus should have been on Gabriel and Layana. While everyone else went with the flow, Esme gleefully fought the current, always. It didn’t surprise me, but it did put me on edge.

Layana and Morgan danced to the beat, following Esme’s moves. Half the crowd did, drawn into the chaos that was Esme.

“What’s Esme’s role here?” Jules asked. “Isn’t she part of the wedding party? Or…is she also with the band?”

“She’s being Esme,” I said. She was going to be a groomsman. She was probably part of the band, or if she wasn’t, she could be. She didn’t need talent in something for people to want her to be a part of it.

Jules made a sound of consideration, like there were implications in my words beyond what I’d said.

A man in an aloha shirt stepped up to me. “Mr. Carrington, correct?”

He had a curly mustache and a red ascot around his neck that seemed out of place with the island vibes.

“Yes,” I said. “Jasper Carrington. My brother Oscar Carrington is here, too.”

The man nodded. “You and your guest will be staying in the Hibiscus Suite….”

He handed me a pile of papers and two keycards. He kept talking, but I found it difficult to focus on what he was saying. I did catch the words “services” and “welcome” and a few other bits here and there. I was sure anything important would be in the paperwork.

My attention was stuck on Esme as she danced across the stage. It was frustrating. If astronauts could telescope-watch people anywhere on the planet, they’d be stuck watching her too. Getting ensnared in her web was a frustrating inevitability for anyone who made the mistake of entering her orbit.

As the song came to an end, Esme handed back the drum and headed toward the edge of the stage, pink-cheeked and beaming with confidence.

The band started another song. Esme squatted like she was going to jump down from the stage, then paused. All color drained from her face, almost like she’d been struck with a dire realization.

A tiny spark of concern rose into my throat.

Was it possible she’d suddenly grown self-conscious and realized she’d stolen the show from the bride and groom? No. That couldn’t be it.

She pressed her lips together and puffed out her cheeks.

Then she spewed vomit all over the ground.

I stood there, shocked. This was a lot, even for Esme. Given she didn’t look sick, and the fact that her dress was clearly on backwards, she had probably been up drinking all night and had overestimated her ability to hold it together this morning.

Gabriel rushed forward. He helped her down, his concern clear. The rest of us followed as a clump.

“Esme, are you sick?” Gabriel asked. “Are you all right?

“I’m great.” She twisted her lips and wiped her tongue on her wrist.

She didn’t look great. She looked green.

“I’ve been having a reaction to the water or something,” she said, plastering a smile back on her face. “It’ll be fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Gabriel said.

“Water troubles?” Morgan raised a hand to catch Esme’s attention. “Does that mean we need to stick to the bottled stuff?”

“Bottled water is always a good idea when introduced to an unfamiliar biome,” Gabriel said.

“Watch out for ice,” Oscar said. “We’ll brush our teeth with bottled.”

“There’s a top-of-the-line filtration system,” the man who had given us the welcome speech said. His nametag labeled him Stan. “All of the water on the resort is safe for consumption. We also keep bottled refreshments stocked for anyone who prefers.”

“I live outside of the resort. It’s just a me problem. You guys will be fine.” Esme’s eyes slowly widened, and she smashed her lips together like she might be sick again.

It sounded like she should have been drinking bottled water, at least that’s if her story was true. Big if.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later. Sorry to bail so soon,” she said.

Gabriel said, “I’ll accompany you back to your place, make sure you⁠—”

“Nope.” She shook her hands. “I’m really fine. You go get settled in. I have a doctor’s appointment today. I’m taking care of it. Really. I’ll catch up at dinner, okay?”

Gabriel’s jaw ticked. “Take care of yourself.”

“Call if you need anything,” Layana said with a warm smile.

“I will,” Esme said with a smile back.

Knowing her, she wouldn’t call even if she really did need the help. It wasn’t a pride thing, either. She wouldn’t want Gabriel to worry about her. She’d always hid everything she could from him.

Gabriel deserved this one perfect week. I hoped Esme wouldn’t ruin that for him.

Esme grabbed a skateboard from the edge of the grass and rode off, because of course she chose the least sensible way of getting around. She might not look like it anymore, but her behavior proved she was still the rebellious troublemaker she’d always been.

“If everyone will follow me this way,” Stan said.

As the clump of people crossed the grass, parties reformed. I followed Gabriel and Layana, with Jules by my side.

A heady embrace of humid, Caribbean air fell over us. Palms rustled in the soft breeze, their long shadows dancing across the grass.

“Can you believe this place?” Layana opened her arms wide and spun in a circle.

“It’s paradise,” Morgan told her. “You picked the perfect spot. I might have to steal your idea for my own special day.”

Oscar snapped his attention to her at that. The pair of them were so deep into their own wedding planning that a venue change to a different country was likely to give him a heart attack.

“Maybe our honeymoon,” she grinned at him.

He grinned back, despite his surly nature.

“You should totally honeymoon here,” Layana told Morgan. “But it was Esme who picked the island, since she moved here.”

“She seems like a vibrant person,” Morgan said. “I bet she appreciates that you two were thinking so much of her when you put this together.”

Gabriel said, “I hope so.”

I wasn’t so sure. She’d seemed anxious to me.

The other groups of vacationers chatted amongst themselves as the grassy earth led to a wide stone walkway.

Stan’s gentle yet commanding voice cut through everyone’s chatter. “Down the path to your right is the market. It’s older than the resort itself and began as a gathering spot for locals to trade goods and share stories. Be sure to make time to visit during your stay.”

There wasn’t much to see from here but giant palm trees and manicured flower beds filled with colorful blooms. But, the gentle sound of ebbing and flowing waves carried across the air, along with a fresh, salty quality that filled my every breath.

I wondered what kind of rentals the resort had, and if the waves would be conducive to surfing. Why not throw a little adventure into this relaxing island getaway?

“If you’ll look down—careful not to trip now—this walkway, my friends, is not just any path, it's a story,” Stan said.

Blue swirls decorated the tan stone, like waves pointing the way to our destination.

Stan said, “This is the tale of our island, lovingly painted by a local artisan.”

The waves led to sand dunes and a vibrant sky, to towering trees and colorful birds.

“Seems a waste to put art where it’s going to get trampled,” Jules said. “Plus, it doesn’t really fit with the luxury vibe of a five-star resort.”

I thought the art made for an inviting welcome.

“Looks pretty well protected to me,” Morgan said.

Up ahead, the resort came into view. As Jules had said, it had a completely different feel than the path we’d walked. Sleek, modern design sat right in the center of lush greenery. Large glass walls reflected the myriad of colors from the surroundings.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Jules said.

“Remember, full spa services are available by appointment. Room service is available twenty-four seven. If you have any further questions, please feel free to dial zero from the phone in your room at any time, or visit us at the front desk.”

The crowd began to disperse.

Layana kissed Gabriel on the nose and bounced her brows. “Let’s check out our room.”

“I want to see what the pools are like,” Morgan said.

“Why would we want to use a shared pool when there’s a private hot tub on the deck of our suite?” Oscar asked her.

Everyone was looking forward to making the most of their down time. I wanted to do the same.

Jules batted her eyelashes and shot me a let’s-fuck-around look. Sex, sure, maybe. Not now. I wanted to explore the island, spend my time in the ocean.

“How about we all do our own thing for now, meet up for dinner later,” Layana said.

“Yes,” Gabriel said, “let’s do that.”

She pulled him by the wrist. Morgan and Oscar headed in the other direction. Everyone else scattered, leaving me and Jules.

I flipped through the paperwork for a map.

“He said we’re on the second floor.” She started walking. “The first floor would have been better so we could walk straight out onto the beach, but the second means more privacy.”

“Great,” I said, not caring much one way or the other.

As we headed into the open and airy lobby, I found my mind wandering. I wondered what time Esme’s doctor’s appointment would be, and if she was feeling any better yet.

FIVE

ESME

Unfortunately for me, I wasn’t wearing pants. If I had been, I wouldn’t have been stuck sitting bare-thighed on scratchy paper feeling naked and exposed.

Sure, I got to keep my underpants on, but the gaping gown did little for coverage in this frigid, sterile room where I really wished I had some actual clothing warming my body.

All exam rooms had a special time-warping quality, where every minute sitting inside one waiting for the doctor to arrive felt like at least twenty minutes had passed.

As doctor’s offices went, Dr. Squailly’s wasn’t bad. The receptionist was friendly. There were happy floral paintings framed on the walls. The whole building had pretty, natural hardwood floors, unlike the offices I’d had to visit back in Epiphany where the floors were either easy-to-clean hospitalesque tile or the world's flattest carpet in that shade of bluish gray where years of dirt had blended right into the fibers.

This one smelled nice, too, like coconut. But that didn’t make me feel less naked, or make waiting like this any less torturous.

I stretched my arms, rolled my neck, and picked at the corner of the paper I was sitting on top of. I debated grabbing my phone out of my dress pocket for something to do, but as soon as I got involved in that little snakes game, the doctor would decide to show up and catch me in the act.

Ooh, maybe that was exactly what I needed to do.

A knock came from the door, pausing me in a half-shimmy off the table.

A second later, Dr. Squailly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “Hi, Esme. How are you feeling today?”

“Like there’s no good reason to sit around naked just to get the results of an allergy test.”

“You know you’re welcome to wear your pants, right?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

She nodded. “I ask patients to always wear a gown for consistency. It makes your appointment longer if I have to leave in the middle for you to put one on for an examination.”

“That makes sense.”

“Next time, we can make sure it’s based on what I’ll be examining if that makes you more comfortable.”

“I’m not even out the door and you’re already trying to rope me into another visit.” I let out a nervous chuckle.

Why did I say that? Right, because I hated this whole situation, and being uncomfortable made me just the tiniest bit testy.

“You will need to come back,” she said.

“Of course.” I might not like it, but I did believe in preventative medicine and whatnot.

“Especially in your condition.”

Her words repeated in my head, with more gravity than she’d used when she’d said them. “What condition? Don’t tell me I’m dying. It’s probably just me getting used to the water, right? That’s what you said before. That it was probably the water.”

“It’s not⁠—”

“If it has to be a food thing, it better not be something in the cheese patties. You’ve had those, right? The little hand pies with the spices and the gooey deliciousness. If it’s the patties, I don’t know if I can quit.”

“Esme.”

Her voice was laced with practiced gentle authority, but I was seriously into cheese patties.

“I’ll eat them until they kill me,” I said, though that may have been a slight exaggeration. They weren’t worth death, but were they worth intestinal distress? Yes, they were.

“It’s nothing you’ve consumed. You’re pregnant.”

“Say what?”

“Your labs came back showing that you are pregnant.”

“That’s not possible.” None of this was making any sense. I was practically celibate. “I always use a condom.”

“The only absolutely infallible form of birth control is abstinence. Condoms tend to be about eighty-five percent effective when accounting for human error.”

“But I just had my period. I haven’t even done the nasty since then. Period means not pregnant. That’s the whole point of suffering the cramps and bloating and acne.”

“Sometimes spotting can occur during the first trimester, leading women to believe that they’ve had their period.”

I didn’t know what to say. She had to be wrong. Sure, I understood that it was possible for a condom to break. I understood that she was the expert, and what she was saying could be the case for some women. But not me.

I was just starting my best life. Plus, even in the before times, even when I’d wanted to be a wild, rebellious, carefree badass, I hadn’t been. I’d only had sex with one dude, my long-time high school boyfriend, and that had been way too long ago. No one could be pregnant for two years. Plus, if he couldn’t make me come, he shouldn’t be able to get me pregnant. That had to be a law or something.

It hit me then, like a fist to the gut.

I had been with someone else.

It was just one time, and we’d used a condom.

First Contact.

This wasn’t happening, not to me, not now. None of this was real. There had to be a mistake. The labs Dr. Squailly had seen belonged to some other woman, one who was in a place in her life where she could take care of another human being, where she actually knew what she was doing. I didn’t even trust myself to be a responsible cat mom.

Panic boiled up through my gut before expelling itself right onto Dr. Squailly’s shoes.

SIX

JASPER

A towering statue stood beside Rum Bum Tiki Tavern’s front door. The massive tiki man appeared to be carved from a single piece of dark wood, with colorful details painted on his exaggerated face. His lips were so blue, it looked like he’d been kissing a smurf. In one arm, he held a wooden surfboard with the word “welcome” stretched from the board’s nose to tail. In the other arm, he appeared to be choking a wooden flamingo. Why?

Jules pulled open the door and headed in. Her voice carried after her. “Ooh, koi.”

With the door lingering open, rainforest-esque sounds and tinkling percussion danced through the air. The jovial voices of the bar’s patrons rode the waves, so congruent they felt almost a part of the music.

It was my turn to go inside. Instead, my feet remained planted in place. The only solitude I was likely to get during this trip was right here, right now, lingering on the porch.

When I’d agreed to bring Jules along for this trip, I hadn’t expected that meant I’d spend every single moment with her. Before we’d jetted off to Calypso Caribella, we’d said only a handful of sentences to each other. Most of them had been yes, just like that or harder, faster. Every interaction had been short, direct, and either professional or sexual. Nothing more.

As soon as we stepped onto the plane, everything changed. She kept talking to me, giving her opinions on everything from the temperature in the cabin to the pretzels the flight attendant offered. It was exhausting.

After the plane landed and we’d settled into our room, she’d tried to talk to me through the bathroom door. All I’d wanted was two minutes to empty my bladder in peace. I couldn’t do it, not while she was blabbering on about linens or whatever the fuck. I had to leave our room and slip downstairs to the restroom off the lobby.

We hadn’t even been here a full day yet, and I was certain I’d made a disastrous mistake by letting her come. It was too late now.

It wasn’t like I needed the reminder, but here it was anyway—I was better off alone and free.

Hearty laughter ripped me right out of my thoughts as I finally stepped through the door. Bright colors, bamboo, and thatch decorated the large room beyond the entry. The space was airy and inviting.

My gaze snapped to the source of the laughter, to a vibrant woman glowing with pure joy. She tossed her marigold hair back from her shoulders, and I caught a glimpse of her familiar smile. Esme.

The man seated on the stool across from her seemed to be the source of her glee. From his back, I could only make out his broad shoulders and black dreadlocks, but he most definitely could have been the man who’d grabbed her and pulled her onstage this morning.

She certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by him. In fact, they seemed to be doing something together on the bar with a lemon, a rubber band, and some flatware. Were the two of them involved? If this guy was the musician, he was too old for her. He had to be at least my age, likely a few years older given how deep the smile lines around his eyes had been. Esme was only twenty.

A tightness formed in my shoulders. I rolled them back, then headed in Esme’s direction without a good reason why, given I was here for dinner with the wedding party. I should have been looking for Gabriel.

I’d do that. But first, it was only polite to ask Esme if she was feeling better. I should ask about her doctor’s visit. I should ask how old that guy was and how exactly they knew each other.

Esme bolted upright. The man with her twisted in his seat.

“Look out!” Esme’s expression transformed from delight to horror.

I blinked, uncertain as to what was happening.

A gleam of light flickered off a silver object. I saw it only half a second before the object pinged me in the forehead with a sharp jolt.

I stopped walking, stunned, reached out reflexively, and caught the object as it dropped. It was a metal fork.

Esme hurried around the bar, her brow creased. The man stepped in front of her. He reached me first.

“We’re so sorry,” he said, a look of both mortification and subdued amusement on his face.

He was definitely the musician.

I looked past him to Esme. “Did you just throw a fork at me, Bramble?”

The nickname slipped from my lips.

My tone was light, not accusatory even if her actions deserved my anger. Still, any hint of concern in her expression disappeared. Defiance took its place.

She snorted. “No.”

“Sir, we didn’t know you were there. This is a misunderstanding,” the musician said.

We. He kept saying we. It was probably the fact that I’d just been stabbed in the head with a fork, but this guy was really pissing me off.

Again, I ignored him and focused my attention on Esme. “You’re not sorry.”

“You’re not bleeding. You’re not concussed.” She crossed her arms. “You’ll live.”

“Esme,” the man said through gritted teeth, as if he had any right to judge her rude behavior.

“You forked me,” I said.

She shrugged. “Maybe you needed to be forked.”

“Esme.” The man grabbed her wrist.

I gritted my teeth.

“You still make that face?” Esme shook off the musician’s grasp and her dark eyes sparkled with delight.

She had Gabriel’s same eyes, so deep a shade of brown, they almost blended into her pupils. But the devious spark behind them was unique to Esme, an almost impish quality that meant her forking me was only a taste of what was to come. She intended to torture me every chance she could while I was on the island, and she’d savor every moment of it.

“My expression? I’ll assume it’s a frown,” I snapped. “People frown when they’re physically and then verbally assaulted.”

She laughed, not the happy laugh she’d shared at the bar with her friend. No, this laugh was dangerous. Alarm bells went off in my head, warning me that I knew the look on her face, too. It was the look she’d give me before she’d tackle me to the ground for taking the biggest cookie on Oma’s tray.

“It’s not a frown. It’s a weird little twitch, right over here.” She poked just above my lip, then lifted her finger to my forehead for a second jab. “And a brow raise, right over here.”

“What has gotten into you?” the musician asked with an exasperated tone, because he clearly didn’t know the real Esme.

No matter what their relationship was, he was a blip on the timeline of her life. He’d hardly known her any time at all, and before long, she’d move on and forget him entirely.

The people who mattered spent years etching their way into each other’s lives. For better or worse, they left scars.

It didn’t matter how old this guy was. It didn’t matter who he was. And it didn’t matter what Esme was doing with him. None of it was any of my business. I needed to return to what I’d come here to do, which was support my best friend for a welcome night dinner.

I smiled at Esme, warm and calm and completely unaffected by her torture, and turned to go…wherever it was that everyone else was supposed to be.

Ah, there, I spotted them through the large, open windows sitting at a table outside on the deck.

“It’s the face you made when you were thirteen, that time you had to get your tooth pulled,” she said.

I froze, not knowing what she would say next, but knowing I wasn’t going to like it. I should have kept walking, but I couldn’t. I looked back at her.

“You woke up the next morning with white fuzz sticking out of your mouth. Two days later, there was still a piece stuck between your teeth, right here.” She pointed to her sneer, to the exact tooth.

My every muscle tensed. I’d forgotten all about the entire incident. Of course Esme hadn’t. She always remembered everything, in horrid detail. And she would never let me forget any of it either. It was a special kind of torture.

“In the fog of the sedatives, I had tried to eat my stuffed yeti.” It was the only stuffed animal I’d kept at that age, caring so much about what other kids thought. But I couldn’t get rid of Mr. Spaghetti the yeti. My dad had given him to me before he’d left my mom and me for his new wife and baby.

My throat thick, my pulse pounding in my wrists, I ripped my gaze from hers. “Thanks for the trip down memory lane, Esme.”

I walked outside and took a seat with everyone else. The sky had turned from mostly dark to completely dark during my short time inside the bar. String lights, tiki torches, and flickering candles illuminated the decking.

The excitement in the party was palpable. Everyone was talking about their day. Food was eaten. Drinks were had. I shared the usual pleasantries and responded when spoken to, wishing I could shake my interaction with Esme and enjoy this time like everyone else.

After a little while, Jules ran off with Layana, Layana’s sisters, and Layana’s friends on the beach.

Oscar, Gabriel, and I sat watching the others frolic. Usually, I would have enjoyed playing in the sand at the edge of the water, too. But I wasn’t in the mood.

“You’re quiet,” Oscar said to me.

“Ever since the plane.” Gabriel steepled his fingers and frowned at me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m good,” I said. “Just thinking.”

They both stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate. Neither of them was a talker. That was always my role, and usually it was easy for me.

“Really, everything is good,” I said.

Oscar’s mismatched eyes flicked back to where Morgan ran at the edge of the water. “Jules seems nice.”

“Mm-hmm,” I agreed. Jules was nice. But I didn’t really want to talk about her, or even think about her. The easiest way to get Oscar talking about something else was to change the subject to Morgan. “Did I catch Morgan mentioning adopting a second weasel?”

At the mention of his fiancée’s name, fondness softened Oscar’s features. “Rumor spread through the cast about people seeing something they thought was a weasel hiding backstage at the theater. It was a cat.”

“So no second weasel,” I said.

“One is plenty.”

“You keep a weasel as a pet?” Gabriel asked.

From the corner of my eye, I caught movement and a swish of long red hair. The air felt suddenly thicker, causing my breaths to become short and stifled. I focused on some imaginary interesting thing out in the distance.

Esme slipped right into the chair beside me. I caught the movement of her hand waving in the periphery. I could hear the smile in her words as she said softly, “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Every muscle in my body tensed.

“A strange man dumped the weasel on Morgan. She can’t say no to a stray,” Oscar said. “She has a big heart.”

“Not a ferret?” Gabriel asked.

“Weasel,” Oscar said.

“Interesting,” Gabriel said. He turned his attention to his sister. “How was your doctor’s visit?”

“It was totally fine,” she said, her voice slightly tighter than it had been a moment before.

“Did the doctor determine the cause of your dietary intolerance?” Gabriel asked.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, just a local spice, which sucks because I’m a sucker for ribs with that tangy Polynesian jerk infusion BBQ sauce they have here.”

“I’m glad you got your answer,” Gabriel said.

“I’m glad you decided to have your dinner here so I could take part,” she said. “If only somewhat. Sorry I had to work. I’ll definitely have off for the ceremony, I promise. And I got someone to cover shifts so I should be able to do most of the other…whatever stuff you want to do while you’re here.”

“I’m glad,” Gabriel said.

She smiled at him.

Then she stared off at the beach, and I could swear something about this entire exchange was off. She was off.

Maybe it was our interaction inside that had left her off-kilter, or maybe it was something else. But there was definitely something wrong.

As soon as I glimpsed that hidden something, and actually looked at her to confirm my suspicion, she shielded herself back up, elbowed me in the arm, and smiled. “I’m going to go play with the ladies. You guys should join.”

As she ran off, I wondered if I’d imagined what I saw. I looked at Gabriel to see if he’d noticed something, too. He just rose from his seat, smiled in Layana’s direction, and headed onto the sand. It must have just been my imagination.

SEVEN

ESME

I stared at the white blades of my ceiling fan and imagined they were sheep riding a playground spinner. Of course it would be the biggest, strongest sheep’s job to run around the outside pushing the thing, making sure everyone in the middle felt like their eyeballs were about to be sucked through the back of their skulls.

That’s what you’re supposed to do when your brain was trapped in panic mode, when you should have fallen asleep hours ago, and when pure adrenaline shackled you to the waking world with certainty that you’d never ever sleep again. Right?

The wood-turned-imaginary-fluffy-shapes bounded through the air in a way I was pretty sure defied sheep physics. Fortunately for them, being of an imaginary nature meant they didn’t need to follow the laws of physics, or social rules, or the nature of biology, either. Lucky bastards.

Soft white fluff transformed to sharp black spikes. Each sheep became a ticking, stabby bomb, and instead of riding playground equipment, they dove down into my bed and chained themselves to my neck. It was only a matter of time before each and every sheep bomb exploded.

Stupid imagination.

I sat upright and gave up on trying to rest. There was no way to force it, not with all the social and emotional explosives.

There was nothing I could do at the moment about the stress of Gabe being in town. There was nothing I could do to stop him from judging my life beyond hiding my dirty clothes in the closet and scrubbing the floors. I’d already done that. All that there was left to do on the Gabe front was put on my happiest my-life-is-not-a-shit-show smile and try not to let his inevitable disapproval crush me.

Eventually Gabe would go home. I’d made it through one day with him here. Only seven more to go.

There was nothing I could do about Jasper the Disaster Carrington’s easy smiles or his begrudging scowls. The only way I could prevent him from getting under my skin was to get under his first, or avoid him completely. Avoidance was my preferred plan here. But of course that was entirely impossible during the wedding events we both had to attend.

That left the biggest, baddest, scariest bomb. It was also the only one I had any control over.

I couldn’t say the word out loud, or even in my head for that matter. It started with a B and ended with me losing my entire hard-fought identity. The B bomb couldn’t be disarmed, or thrown into space, or whatever it was you did with bombs.

There were options if the B bomb was real.

But it wasn’t. I wasn’t really having a B anyway. The whole situation was a mistake. All I had to do was take another test to confirm the first one was wrong, and I could breathe again. The other stressors would remain, sure, they were temporary.

B was forever.

Oh my goodness, why couldn’t I say the word in my own head? If ever there was a sign that someone was not remotely ready to be in charge of another person’s life, it was that.

Clearly the universe would understand this, and had definitely not made this mistake.

I was not pregnant.

All I had to do was find a test that would prove it. Just to be sure I found the right one, I’d buy every single test on the island. It was the perfect plan.

Great, I was being proactive. I could do something to regain some semblance of control. First step—put on pants.

I opted for some oversized jeans, tucked in my nearly threadbare Green Day t-shirt, and laced up my Chucks. Cash and skateboard in hand, I headed out the door.

There was no bad time of day to be outside in Calypso Caribella, but my favorite was late at night. People didn’t clog up the streets and the beaches. The night sky was so clear the stars were always bright. The air was still salty, but the heat was gone. It carried different scents, like a whole alternate set of flowers decided to wake up for the moon.

Unfortunately, not all of the shops were open twenty-four hours, which I didn’t think of until I stopped by the first pharmacy and found the lights out and the doors locked up for the night.

There was one small general store on the resort grounds that was open twenty-four hours, though, so I went there next. I started down the feminine hygiene aisle, because where else would they keep the pee sticks? And I found them, with the condoms, fancy toothbrushes, and the teeth whitening strips.

In a locked case.

I guessed thieves' priorities were pretty smiles, sex, and the aftermath of smiley sex. It made sense.

Someone was going to have to open this case for me. Someone was going to have to check me out at the counter. And that someone could be someone I knew.

I crept to the end of the aisle and slowly peeked my head out the end to see if I could spot whoever was working. If I was lucky, it’d be a complete stranger. Was that too much to ask?

“Esme?”

I jumped, righted myself completely, and pretended that I hadn’t been creeping around like a weirdo. I recognized the voice.

A finger poked me in the shoulder. I smiled, turned around, and forced myself to breathe like I wasn’t about to have a full-on panic attack.

Sage stood there wearing a green vest over one of her flowy paisley dresses. Her globe eyes blinked behind her thick glasses.

She said, “I knew I recognized that bright head of orange hair.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, as if it wasn't obvious given that she was wearing a vest with the words Pirate’s Pantry over her right boob.

“Working. Sadly, the ghosts haven’t started bringing in the fortune seekers yet, except for Mona Maloney this morning. She’s still missing her glasses, but she didn’t stay for a reading once she recognized me. Anyway, I had to get a nine-to-five to support me while I wait for the ghosts to work their magic.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s after five though.”

“Overnight nine-to-five.”

I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

“Do you need help with something?” Sage eyed the locked case and twirled the key on her pointer finger.

Poop on the stoop.

“Yes.” Be brave. The test is going to be negative anyway. These things happen to people all the time, and if anything, Sage would probably congratulate you on your hookup anyway.

She opened the case and put her hands on her hips as she looked over the selection. “What’s your poison?”

All the pee sticks. I swallowed the lump in my throat. And grabbed a random box of something that wasn’t a pee stick.

“Strawberry.” She nodded. “Nice choice.”

I looked down at the box of flavored condoms in my hand. Who would want flavored condoms? Me, apparently. Yep, that’s right, strawberry rubber was exactly what I’d come here for. I smiled.

“Shacking up with someone in town for the wedding? One of those nice-looking boys hanging around your brother?”

“Gross, no.” Even if I was interested in Oscar, he was engaged. That left Layana’s friend Chester, who was a guy, but also seemed to be completely into Juno, and I got the sense he was even more of a weirdo than I was.

“Not even the one with the long hair?”

It took a moment for me to realize who she was talking about, because there was only one guy with even kind of longish hair, and there was no way she was suggesting what it sounded like she was suggesting.

“Jasper?”

Sage shrugged. “Fine then. But whoever these are for, I want to hear about it later.”

I tried to shake the mental image of my brother’s best friend from my head. His smarmy smile. His tanned, tattooed arms and strong calves. Jasper was objectively, physically attractive, sure. He was downright hot, but I’d known him since I was five years old, since he was lanky and covered in pimples. Plus, he had a girlfriend. Plus, he was Jasper.

Without committing to sharing my non-existent sexcapades, I paid for my strawberry condoms and left feeling worse than I had when I got here. I was definitely going to have to leave the resort for my pee stick needs.

I skated my way out, passing the rundown remains of the old resort that you couldn’t see from inside the bounds of the current resort. In the nearby-ish village, I was able to find two shops that were both open and sold the tests I needed. I bought the entire supply in both. I was a bit suspicious of the ones from the dollar store, but desperation meant I couldn’t afford to be choosy.

My thighs and calves started to burn. No way I could make it anywhere farther away and be able to skate my way back home after. So, I decided my only course of action was to head back.

I tried not to think about how this thing that was definitely not happening to me possibly could have accidentally happened. There was only one possible explanation.

As I skated, my mind transported me back to three months ago, to the night of November twenty-seventh, to First Contact.

The plan had been to slip in undetected, use my stolen invitation and the anonymity of my costume to be free. No one I knew would ever be in a place like this. That made it safe.

I’d planned to pretend to be the kind of person I’d always wanted to be. I’d been foolish enough to believe I could actually pull it off.

I felt like I could float up to the stars. I could rip the gold toilet straight out of the bathroom floor and waltz out the door with it. I could do anything.

I spun to the music, moved amongst the animal-masked socialites, and patted myself on the back.

I’d been labeled a troublemaker my whole life, a rebel, even though I’d done nothing but try my best to follow all of the rules. Finally, this night was my chance to actually do something wild. It was meant to ease the constant pressure I felt to meet my brother’s impossible standards.

And I felt light. It was working.

Until I spun a little too fast, and the floor came rushing up to meet my face. But I didn’t crash, or at least not with the floor. The crash that was coming was far less forgiving and far more enjoyable.

A strong arm caught me, his touch a pleasant fire that rippled across my skin. I wasn’t floating or falling anymore. He held me steady to the earth.

I turned my attention to my hero’s face, to properly thank him for saving me. But he didn’t have a face that I could see. And he wasn’t wearing an animal mask like everyone else, either. My hero wore a big reflective helmet.

Amongst a forest of earthly creatures, the lone astronaut had found the alien.

“Esme?”

My brother’s voice ripped me straight out of the memory.

I hopped off my skateboard, and in a crash course with reality, reoriented myself to my present. I was already back in the resort, having skated here on autopilot. My brother was standing on the sidewalk twenty feet ahead of me. And I was holding onto a bag full of pregnancy tests.

Wholly gnocchi.

I looked both ways, jumped up onto the sidewalk, and used my body to shield what I was doing as I chucked my forbidden bag behind a bush.

“What are you doing?” Gabe asked as he casually approached.

Did he see? Please don’t let him have seen.

“What do you mean?” I asked with a big fake smile.

“It’s well past midnight. Shouldn’t you be resting?”

He didn’t mention the bag or the bush. Yet. Maybe I was in the clear?

“Oh, that,” I chuckled. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Sleep is important,” he said. “Also, while the area does appear to be safe, you should be careful out alone this late, especially if no one knows where you are.”

I rolled my eyes at his dad-ish comment. “I always bring my phone with me.”

That’s when I noticed he had a bag of his own. What kind of secret things did he need to be out after midnight buying? My nerves calmed as I gained the upper hand.

“What are you doing out so late?” I asked. “I hear it can be dangerous for someone to be out alone at this hour.”

He lifted the bag. “Layana was in the mood for ice cream.”

I sighed. Of course he was being responsible. Sweet, even. I faked a yawn. “You should get her treat back to her. I need to hit the hay. Catch you in the morning?”

“We’d like to explore the island for possible locations for the ceremony tomorrow.”

“I don’t have to work, so I’ll be there. Plus, I’m sure I can think of a few choice spots, being a local and all.”

Small crinkles formed around his eyes. “We would appreciate that, Esme.”

“Cool. Have a good night.”

“You, as well.”

I waited for him to leave, but he was giving me a look like he was waiting for me to go first. I made a big show of how I was definitely walking away. Then, I waited for him to disappear before doubling back for my bag.

I stared down at the tests.

Pregnancy tests.

Maybe the best plan was to wait to take them until the wedding was over. It was only one week. No matter what the results were—not pregnant, obviously—but still, it wouldn’t hurt to wait for a few days. Definitely I didn’t need to deal with it tonight.

First, I needed to focus on being the best sister and groomsbabe I could possibly be. And while I considered good locations for tomorrow’s search, I needed a distraction, something, anything…what could take me away from everything concerning the pregnancy and the wedding?

Sage had mentioned the resort being haunted. And those totally real ghosts had stolen Mona Maloney’s glasses. Someone had to find the truth. Clearly, this mystery had to fall to the person on the island with the most reliable memory. That person was me.

EIGHT

JASPER

“—the entire resort to themselves. Instead of just private hot tubs they had private beaches,” Jules said.

Sloshing sounds suggested she was moving around in the hot tub behind me. The nonstop buzz of her voice had started to feel like part of the ambiance, as natural to the island as the swooshing of water on sand, or the clattering of palm fronds clapping in the breeze.

Elbows on the deck railing, I stared out over the dark ocean and tried to make out the shape of the waves. At least on this side of the island, I had yet to find a time of day that would be any good for surfing.

Something soft hit me in the head and stayed there.

I reached up to see what it was. Two triangles and string.

Jules had thrown her bikini top at me. Clearly she wanted more of my attention than I’d offered. How could this still only be the first day of the trip?

I turned to acknowledge her.

Topless, with her hair piled on the top of her head, she flicked water at me. “We could be doing that, too, couldn’t we? If this was actually planned out instead of all last minute?”

“Do what?”

She flattened her lips in a line. “More. Like the Albrechts.”

I had no idea who the Albrechts were.

Sensing this, Jules shook her head. “You haven’t been listening at all, have you?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. They have a reality show. I was just saying that we should be vacationing in real luxury. You’re a billionaire, right? And so is your brother. And your groom friend.” She widened her eyes and tilted her chin like what she was saying was obvious.

“We’re doing what Gabriel and Layana want. They want to be here,” I said, my throat growing thick. “With Esme.”

“Esme again? You and Gabriel are both weird about her,” Jules said. “She should have cared enough about her brother to go wherever Gabriel and Layana actually wanted to go for their wedding. He shouldn’t be catering to anyone but his bride-to-be. And if I was marrying a billionaire⁠—”

That just about made my heart stop. “I’m not interested in marriage.”

She rolled her eyes. “If I was marrying some other billionaire, I’d want to do it bigger than the Albrechts. They only have millions, not billions. Y'all should do better is all I’m saying, otherwise what’s the point?”

What was the point in being a billionaire? I hadn’t sought it out and neither had Oscar. Our money was one of the only gifts our father had ever given us, and he’d only done so in death. I would have rather had a father who cared. As for Gabriel, he’d earned every dollar of his money, trying to make the world a better place.

If there was any point to being a billionaire, Gabriel had it right. The point should have been to do what we could with our good fortune to help others.

“You shouldn’t be all the way over there.” Jules stood, baring her naked breasts to the warm night air. “Come here. Join me.”

I’d never been less interested.

It was for the best if we never had sex again. Abstaining would mean I was sticking to my rule about two no more than two nights. It meant there was no chance I’d inadvertently lead her on.

I was doing us both a favor in the long term.

“I’m going for a walk,” I said.

As I slipped on my sandals and grabbed my keys, I heard her voice follow me.

“Suit yourself.”

I didn’t care what she thought I should do, or if she liked the resort we were staying in. Gabriel wouldn’t have come here for the wedding if Layana wasn’t one hundred percent on board. She was the one who’d suggested it to begin with. His love for her was so clear, I was sure it could be seen from space.

What was that supposed to mean that Gabriel was weird about Esme? She was his sister. He cared about her. He was overprotective, sure. When we were teenagers, he’d sworn to murder any guy who ever touched her. He’d been like one of those sit-in-the-dark-with-a-shotgun dads.

And even if Gabriel’s behavior was over the top when it came to his sister sometimes, what could I possibly have done that would suggest to Jules that I was weird about Esme? We hadn’t even been in Calypso Caribella for twenty-four hours yet. Esme and I had hardly spoken to each other.

It was a ridiculous accusation with no basis. Jules watched too much reality TV.

I scrubbed my hands over my face and headed down the hall.

Maybe there was a bar open, or if nothing else, I could jog on the beach. All I knew is I couldn’t be in that room with Jules any more. I needed a break.

I took the stairs down. In the lobby I got a prickling sensation on the back of my neck. I paused, expecting Jules must have followed me and would show up at any moment. But she didn’t. No one did.

It was quiet and peaceful. There was no one behind the reception desk. Only soft, joyful island music played through the speakers.

Then I felt it again, a little ping, like I was getting flicked on the lobe of my ear. I must have heard something, even though I couldn’t say what exactly that something was. Instead of going outside, I was drawn to stay and investigate the lobby further.

And I caught a glimpse of trouble.

A pleasantly round jean-clad ass stuck up in the air, wiggling slightly, as its owner dug her face into one of the lobby’s sofas. Orange hair flapped around on the fabric. Frustrated murmurs escaped from between the cushions.

There was no question in my mind that the woman was Esme.

I approached, expecting her to pop up at any moment, giving some sign of what it was that she was doing. As I got closer, it became apparent that both of her arms were digging around deep between the cushions.

“Did you lose something?” I asked.

“Bah!” Esme flailed upward, but her arms were stuck, so she made it halfway before falling forward once more.

“Are you stuck?” I asked, without masking my amusement.

“No.”

Beneath her wavy locks of hair, her nose wrinkled and her lips flattened like she was about to pitch a fit. It only made me want to antagonize her further.

“You look stuck. Should I call for help, bring in the fire department?”

“I’m…not….” She twisted her body around, pulling and lifting her shoulders until she freed herself. “See?”

She lifted her chin and cast a satisfied smirk in my direction.

“Congratulations,” I said in a flat tone.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

I felt an urge to catch her tongue between my thumb and forefinger, but I didn’t. Instead, I crossed my arms. “You don’t live inside that sofa, do you?”

She snorted. Her dark eyes flared in waves of molten chocolate.

Amusement in my tone, I said, “That’s not a no.”

“I realize this is difficult for your pea brain to comprehend, but as a human, I cannot make a life for myself inside a piece of furniture.”

“You look pint-sized to me.”

“I’m proper adult sized, thank you very much. Not everyone is born with Biker G.I. Joe genes.”

I chuckled. “Biker G.I. Joe? I don’t wear leather or camo.”

“Yep. It’s the towering bulk. Inked gorilla with beanstalk genes works too. Do you like that better? Graffiti Surfer Ken?”

I just blinked at her. Graffiti Surfer Ken? I was both taken aback and weirdly delighted by her perception of me. There were no words.

“For the record, I live in a little bungalow on the water,” she said. “It’s just outside the resort.”

That sounded really nice, actually. I could picture her waking up to the sound of the sea, stepping outside her front door in a t-shirt and nothing else to wiggle her toes in the cool morning sand. A t-shirt very similar to the one she was wearing, which now that I was looking, was far too threadbare and therefore far too see-through to be worn out in public.

Between the fibers, I could make out creamy skin and the shape of her black bra. I flicked my gaze up to her face and mentally cursed myself for looking.

“Like what you see?” She stood as tall as she could with her small frame and crossed her arms in a mirror of my stance. Amusement sparkled in her chocolate eyes.

“I see my best friend’s little sister digging around in a sofa in the middle of the night.”

She sighed and dropped her arms. With one breath, all the fight blew out of her. “And you think I should be in bed. That it’s not safe for someone like me to be out alone at night.”

Where did that come from? Given the suddenly sullen look on her face, probably from Gabriel. “No. I was thinking if you lost something, maybe you could use some help.”

Why did I say that? I was supposed to be walking the beach alone for quiet time, and here I was roping myself into a search and rescue task to find Esme’s keys or phone or whatever she’d lost.

I was being a good friend. Whatever it was she was looking for was sure to be important. What kind of person would I be to ignore her plight?

“All right, then. I’m looking for a pair of glasses,” she said. “And I’m like sixty percent sure they aren’t inside of this sofa.”

I didn’t know she wore glasses. When did she start? Did she need them all of the time, or just for reading? Or, maybe she meant sunglasses. Given her freakish memory, I was surprised she could misplace anything.

“How many pieces of furniture did you sit on before you lost your glasses?” I asked. “Was it every chair in the lobby?”

She rolled her eyes. “They aren’t my glasses.”

“Then whose glasses are they?” Probably her musician boyfriend. A sudden dryness clawed at my throat. I guessed I hadn’t drunk enough water today, given the heat. It settled as an ache behind my eyes, and a larger ache in the center of my chest.

Esme looked around the lobby, everywhere but at me. “It doesn’t matter whose glasses they are.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

Because as much as I might feel compelled to help Esme, I had no desire to help the musician. Instead of saying that, I told her, “If I’m going to spend my night climbing into sofas, I should know who it’s for.”

A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her lips. My pulse picked up at that look, knowing trouble was about to follow. Trouble was Esme’s specialty.

She pressed a finger to the center of my chest. I felt my heart beating beneath that touch, felt the heat and pressure of her fingertip. It was impossible not to focus on that one small inch of skin beneath the fabric of my shirt.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, like I was the one acting suspicious here. “Plus, isn’t Jules going to wonder where you are?”

Jules. Ugh.

“I told her I was going out,” I said.

“But you didn’t say you’d be hanging out with a woman. You couldn’t have known you’d run into me here. Won’t she be jealous?”

Jealous? “Why would she be?”

Something shifted behind Esme’s eyes. She shrugged, and smiled again. This time, though, the smile didn’t feel real. It felt like she was holding something back. And no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t seem to clear the dryness in my throat.

NINE

ESME

“Is there somewhere around here where I can get water?” Jasper cleared his throat again.

It was like he’d tried to swallow a frog, and the creature had used its wet webbed toes to lodge itself halfway down. He was being aggressive with his eye contact, too. Weirdly so, almost like he was afraid to look anywhere else.

I pointed to the little open room by the front desk where they kept complimentary toiletries and whatnot for guests. There was fancy bottled water in there, fancy everything.

“Thank you. Excuse me.” Jasper walked off to go deal with his issues, well, with the one issue that had an easy fix.

I dove back into my task and flipped over the cushions on the next two chairs.

“I’m going to find the glasses while you’re fooling around,” I said, unsure if he could even hear me.

There was no good reason for me not to tell Jasper it was Mona Maloney’s glasses that I was hunting down. But being close to him always did something to me. He made me weirdly competitive, and kind of antagonistic. It was uncharacteristic of me. I liked being friendly.

But never with Jasper. Well, not since he betrayed me and ended our friendship. Before that, we’d always been on the same team. All of that was ancient history, though.

And he’d basically just implied he didn’t even consider me a woman. I ran through the conversation again to see if I was misreading it.

He told me that he told Jules he was going out.

Then I’d said, but you didn’t say you’d be hanging out with a woman. You couldn’t have known you’d run into me here. Won’t she be jealous?

And then he’d said, why would she be?

So there was nothing about me that was even slightly threatening. Maybe that was because they were just soooo in love. Nah. That wasn’t it.

Either he considered me to be a little girl, unappealing in my childishness, or when he looked at me he saw something so repulsive he thought no one could ever find me attractive.

Let him think I was a gross baby. It didn’t matter. We were nothing to each other, and therefore I didn’t care what he thought.

When Jasper returned, he slipped right into the task, checking cushions for glasses that belonged to someone he didn’t know, for reasons I didn’t understand. Maybe he was having as much trouble sleeping as I was, and so it didn’t matter what the task was, because doing something was better than lying in bed doing nothing.

Quickly, there was no seating left to check, no lost and found bins left unsearched, no public restroom unturned. We’d dug through them all. Still, we’d found no sign of Mona’s glasses.

“What’s our next lead?” Jasper asked.

“Our?”

“Come on, we’ve been on a hunt together for at least an hour. This is my case now, too.” He smiled his real smile at me, the one that wrinkled his nose and made his forest-green eyes sparkle like they were made of emeralds.

I hadn’t been on the receiving side of a real Jasper the Disaster Carrington smile in a decade. Fake, placating grins, sure. He was the master of false niceties, which I absolutely hated. His face was full of lies. But this…this was real.

I forced myself to stop staring at his mouth with a hard blink. I didn’t care about his stupid smiles.

In all probability, Mona’s glasses were somewhere in Mona’s room. Either she’d misplaced them herself, or her husband had hidden them. But I wasn’t about to go creeping in someone’s room, let alone while they were in the room, sleeping in the bed.

“Fine, you want to butt yourself into my business? Suit yourself,” I said. “But the next bit is taking this mystery up a level.”

If my snarky tone affected him, he showed no sign of it. If anything, his grin grew. It was a startlingly alluring thing, like the little ball of light dangling on the front of an angler fish. Get mesmerized by that glow, and it would be impossible to escape the teeth.

“I’m game,” he said, all nice and friendly like.

I narrowed my eyes at his open expression. “I haven’t even told you what that level is.”

He shrugged.

I should say no. I should tell him to go back to bed. But, I was fairly certain it was too late, and he’d caught me in his glow. I found myself grinning despite myself. “This way.”

I didn’t exactly have a plan. I was aimlessly walking with faux purpose as I figured it out. Mona had suggested the Barleys could have taken the glasses. Even though that seemed extremely unlikely, I didn’t have any better ideas.

We stopped in front of the employee break room. The door was shut, and likely locked. If that was the case, this pathetic lead ended here.

I turned to Jasper.

He took a step closer. His nice lips curled into a not-so-nice smile. It wasn’t the real one, or the fake one, but something entirely new.

Heat crept up my neck. Warning sirens went off in my brain.

His green eyes darkened. He inhaled. That look on anyone else would feel playful and harmless, but on Jasper, it was one hundred percent trouble.

He reached a hand out. My breath caught as I watched his fingers approach my arm. Those long, tan fingers were callused, from doing what I had no idea. But for a moment, I wanted to. I also wondered what they’d feel like on my skin. Simply because knowledge was power, of course.

Instead of touching me, he grabbed the knob a few inches away and opened the door.

Completely unaware of my mental meltdown, he said, “Well, let’s go in.”

“Right, sure, let’s go.” Clearly my alert system was on the fritz, because what exactly did I expect him to do? Why would he touch me? Worse, why would I care if he did?

He scanned the break room as he stepped inside, and strolled straight toward the sofa. He lifted the cushions. “Looks like an employee lounge. So I’m guessing these missing glasses belong to someone who works here.”

“Nope.” My voice came out like a croak.

I could feel his attention on me, but I didn’t look at him. I needed to regain my power, regain control. I walked straight up to the lockers.

They had combination locks built into them, which meant this was a dead end.

Jasper joined me. “The glasses were stolen by an employee?”

“Unlikely.”

He raised a questioning brow.

This little misguided quest was over anyway. It was only an excuse not to go to sleep, but if I was out and about all night, I’d be exhausted for the outing tomorrow. And then I’d have to deal with Gabe and Jasper on zero sleep, and lowered inhibitions. It was a recipe for disaster. I’d snap and screw up somehow. Better to cut my losses now and call it night.

I sighed and decided to finally tell Jasper why I was wasting both of our time. “This fairly horrible guest at the resort, Mona Maloney, swears someone switched out her glasses for an oversized pair of clown sunglasses.”

“A vandal with a sense of humor.”

I hugged myself, suddenly cold. “I guess.”

“And you took it upon yourself to try and find the culprit at three in the morning?”

“Yep.” I tilted my chin up, daring him to press me further, even though I wasn’t sure how much fight I had left.

“If this Mona person truly is horrible, she could probably use some lighthearted shenanigans in her life,” Jasper said.

I flexed my fingers into my arms and waited for him to tell me I was being ridiculous, that he couldn’t believe I’d dragged him around for this. I waited for him to call me immature, for him to dismiss me and then leave.

“I say when we find the glasses, we stage some kind of public scene to make it look like she’d had them the whole time,” Jasper said, his grin growing wider.

That was not at all what I expected him to say. Before I could find thoughts or words to adequately process this turn of events, Jasper brushed past me, pressed his cheek against one of the lockers, and pinched the nub of the lock between thumb and forefinger.

“Why are you fondling that metal nip?” I asked.

“Shhh.”

He actually shushed me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

He kept tweaking the thing, twisting it slowly.

“You’ve been watching too many spy movies,” I said, more amused by the sight than anything. I pulled my phone from my pocket and snapped a pic.

“I’ve watched just the right amount,” he said. “And that’s not where I picked this up.”

“Your practice is from in front of the mirror.” I mock twisted the air in front of my nips to tease him, feeling punchy from insomnia. I made the most ridiculous porn orgasm face I could. “Yes, Jasper. You’re one hot stud. You like it just like that? Yes you do, bad boy.”

A flash of light and a snap was all the warning I got before I spotted his phone in his hand. He’d taken a picture of me in the throes of fake passion.

I was mortified. Why had I done that? It was Jasper’s fault. He brought out the worst in me, a hidden antagonist that couldn’t help but make the stupidest choices, just to spark a reaction.

I dove for his phone with a battle cry.

He easily dodged, held his phone up in the air so high I’d have to climb him like a tree to reach it. Just for good measure, and definitely not touching him, I jumped to try.

“Blackmail means mutually assured destruction,” he said.

“No,” I said, righteous indignation coursing through my veins. “I have evidence of you committing a crime. All you have is me looking hot.”

He chuckled, the jerk.

“I will climb you,” I warned him.

With an unfair level of calm and cockiness he said, “You can try.”

I scowled.

That same dangerous grin he’d flashed in the hall crossed his face again. This time I wasn’t disarmed. I’d seen it, so I was immune to its stun effect. It only made me angrier.

This whole blackmail situation was completely unacceptable. No way could I let him hold something over me. I needed to do something drastic. I needed to tackle him and steal his phone. He left me no other choice.

With a pop, the locker swung open.

We both turned our attention to the open compartment. Inside were a pair of shoes and some photos hung up on the back with magnets. No glasses.

“It was unlocked the whole time,” I said.

“Nope.”

I tried the next one over. It was definitely locked. I pointed to the one I knew for sure couldn’t randomly pop open. “Prove it.”

“Gladly.”

I watched his hand move, and more importantly, the phone held in it. As soon as he put his phone back into his pocket, I’d snatch it and delete the incriminating photo, once more righting the balance of power between us.

I snapped my gaze back to Jasper’s face. His expression wasn’t even a smile anymore. The curl of his lips was too wicked to be classified in the smile family. It was supervillain level contempt, laced with a heavy dose of satisfaction at uncovering his prey’s weakness.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” he said.

Heat rose up into the tips of my ears. Play it cool. “See what?”

“You think you can catch me off guard and steal my phone.”

“What? Pshhh. That’s stupid. You’re stupid.”

He chuckled, stared at me with an unblinking gaze and slid his phone into the front of his pants.

Not into his pocket.

Straight into his underpants, an unreachable abyss I could never ever enter.

“You just shoved your phone into your pants.” I said, dumbfounded.

“That’s right I did. I know you’re not going in for it. Now I can unleash my amazing lock-cracking skills without having to watch my back.”

Bastard.

“You better not wiggle too much or you’ll accidentally take way more incriminating photos of yourself than you did of me. And then your little swinging dick will send it to everyone you know. You think your brothers want to be woken up before sunrise to that?”

“It’s not little.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so,” he said with that smarmy smugness that made me want to smack him. “Easy to prove.”

Would he really whip it out right here, right now, just to prove a point? The look on his face said yes, yes he would.

“You’re stalling.” I nodded toward the locker.

“So you believe me?”

“Sure, I’m sure your dick is plenty regular, buddy. Exceptionally average and not a sad itty bitty cocktail frank,” I said because I couldn’t help myself. “Open that locker.”

“It’s better than average.”

I snorted. “Said every man and teenage boy ever. I’m done talking about it.”

“Tell me you believe me.”

He really wasn’t going to let this go. I rolled my eyes, did my best to take all the sarcasm out of my voice, and said, “I believe you. You, Jasper Carrington, surely have the world’s most gloriously dicktastic of all dicks, unrivaled in its mighty dickly grandeur.”

He nodded, seemingly appeased. “Was that so hard?”

“That’s what she said.”

He grinned with satisfaction and put his ear to the locker. Then he proceeded to open each of the lockers one after the other. It was actually pretty impressive, not that I would tell him that.

“Where did you say you learned to do that?” I asked, totally nonchalant.

“I didn’t.” He put his hands on his hips and looked over his handiwork—nine open lockers. “The private schools I attended as a boy were pretty brutal.”

“I’m sure. Too many gold-dipped truffles.”

“Just the right amount of gold-dipped truffles.” His playful expression dimmed. “I taught myself to open the lockers to free another boy who regularly was locked inside them.”

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline or gotcha. But he was serious. That made me feel a little bad about teasing him over it. I said, “That’s terrible.”

“Yes.” He turned his attention back to the lockers, digging through the contents.

But I was focused on his story. “Where were the adults? I mean, I know school can suck for all kids, but someone should have been looking out for that boy.”

“Yes, they should have.” He kept digging through things. “There aren’t glasses in any of these lockers.”

I was still stuck on Jasper’s story, stuck on the fact that he had to be the one looking out for the little boy when no one else did. He’d always been like that. Looking back, that’s how our friendship had started when we were kids.

He’d swoop in with a bandage when I scraped my knee. And then there was my sparkly blue rubber ball. It was no bigger than a gumball, and came from the same kind of machine. And for whatever reason, I loved bouncing it on the rocks by the stream. Every time I bounced it too hard and lost it, Jasper would jump right in and wade through the water until he found it, no matter how many times I bounced it in.

Maybe that’s all I’d ever been to him—another helpless kid in need of saving. The thought hurt my heart, even though that was stupid. He’d been more than that to me back then. He’d been the best part of my day.

A strange sound pulled me from my thoughts. It was soft and barely audible, but also weirdly out of place.

Jasper tilted his head to the side as if trying to figure out where it was coming from. “Do you hear that?”

I nodded.

“Sounds like whispers.” He looked out in the hall.

I explored the room more, spotting a small vent on the floor halfway behind the sofa. The sound grew louder as I got closer.

“Over here,” I called to Jasper.

I leaned in close. Jasper hung over the sofa, putting his face only a few inches from mine. A long strand of his hair tickled my cheek. I swatted it away.

“You’re that soap opera star, from the eighties,” a voice whispered. “Admit it.”

Nothing followed for a few moments, then finally one more line followed, “Only if you admit that you’re the biscuit bandit.”

The whispers stopped completely.

Jasper and I exchanged a look.

“You don’t know what that means, do you?” he asked.

“Nope. But no matter what it means, we have to find out who said it, right?” I asked.

“We definitely do.”

We hurried up the steps, checking each of the larger vent areas in the halls. Then I led Jasper up to the roof. The sky wasn’t as dark as I’d expected.

A towering silhouette stood by the ventilation system. I grabbed Jasper’s wrist and dropped down behind the brick stairway wall for cover.

I pointed toward the giant man shape I’d seen.

Jasper peeked around that way and squinted.

“He’s not moving,” Jasper whispered.

That was weird. “Maybe he’s hoping if he doesn’t move, we won’t see him.”

“Like we’re T-rexes?”

“Maybe. Do you have a better explanation?”

We waited there and watched.

Morning light started to climb over the ocean, filling the sky with a soft glow. I watched the still man, waiting to see what he’d do next.

The sun kept ascending. Jasper rose to his full height. I glanced up at him, expecting him to be making some kind of move. What had he seen or heard that I hadn’t?

He wasn’t looking at the man. He was looking at me.

“What?” I whispered.

There was something on his face, some kind of expression I couldn’t read in the shadows of the early morning light.

I asked again, “What is it?”

“Our mystery is solved. And I have to say, I can’t think of a better place for Mona’s glasses.”

I followed his gaze back to what I’d thought was a man standing statue-still on the roof. But it turned out to be just a statue, a tiki man, with a pair of cat-eye glasses poorly fit over its wooden face.

I hadn’t actually expected to find the glasses. I laughed.

“We have a big day coming. We should both try to get some rest,” Jasper said.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Goodnight, Bramble.”

I flinched at the nickname he’d branded me with so many years ago.

“Goodnight, Jasper.” And as I watched him go, I realized after he joined me on my misadventure, it actually kinda had been a good night. I wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that.

TEN

ESME

Pretty much as soon as I dropped into the sand, my butt went numb with the cold. I dug my toes into the cool dampness and watched the crystals fall between. Since the sun had just woken up for the day, it would take a few hours before the sand flipped from freezing cold to searing hot.

A little less than two and a half hours remained until breakfast. I should be bravely peeing on pregnancy test sticks. But the panic that rose through my chest when I tried to make myself actually do it was so paralyzing, it would’ve been easier to build a sandcastle that reached the moon than it would be to pee on those sticks.

I should be taking this time to sleep, chill, and refresh before Day Two of wedding obligations, but I felt like I’d chugged two gallons of coffee and taken a bath in espresso. My eyes twitched when I tried to close them.

Instead of doing what I knew I had to do, I sat on the beach that waited outside my doorstep.

The sound of the waves soothed my soul. I looked out over the ocean and squinted against the bright light reflecting off the crystal blue water. Would it really be so bad to have someone here with me to enjoy mornings like this? Someone who didn’t tell me what to do or try to control me, someone who was cool with living the life I chose?

I could imagine a little version of me kicking the waves as they lapped up onto the shore. She’d build sand castles for the sole purpose of crushing them like King Kong. She’d laugh maniacally and no one would stop her from feeling that joy of freedom.

Maybe it wasn’t all scary if I really was having a B. Maybe there’d be some good things about it, and not just crying and poopy diapers and no sleep and no money and no time and….

I sucked in a sharp breath, filling my lungs with the last remnants of cool night air.

At the very least, I needed to go inside and clean myself up. I needed fresh clothes, fresh breath, and actually styled hair to prove to myself as much as to Gabe that I had my life together.

Everything would be fine. I just had to take one day at a time. Maybe just a few more minutes here. There was still plenty of time to shower and⁠—

“You’re up early.”

“Gah!” I jumped and scrambled to my feet, spinning around to find my brother standing over me.

He looked too polished for the morning, as perfectly put together as always, with every hair in place and not a single wrinkle on his shirt.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I wanted to see where you live. In person,” he said, like it was the normalest thing in the world to sneak up on someone without warning.

“You should have called. You gave me a heart attack.”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“So you were what, just going to skulk around on my porch until you spotted me waking up through the windows?”

His brow furrowed, clearly not liking my depiction of his actions. “I apologize for startling you. I meant to walk on the beach if you weren’t awake yet, not skulk or spy.”

I took a moment and a breath, reminding myself that Gabe didn’t do people. Why would he call first when he hated phone calls? He wouldn’t. And I was supposed to be playing nice.

“It’s chill,” I said with as genuine of a smile as I could muster.

“This is a nice view,” he said.

“Stellar.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and didn’t say anything else. The next move was mine, I guessed.

Better to rip the Band-Aid off.

I grabbed my flip flops, popped up to my feet, and stretched. “All right, fine, you twisted my arm enough. I’ll give you the grand tour.”

His lips flattened into a line as I strolled past him and headed for my bungalow. He easily slipped in beside me, and a semi-comfortable, semi-tense quiet settled between us.

It had been forever since we’d hung out. There was always some kind of tension between us that overshadowed any positives in our relationship. Like when I was in the fourth grade and Gabe offered to help me build a volcano for the science fair. I, being me, decided to get started while I waited, because I was sure I’d absolutely dazzle him with my creativity and ingenuity. He’d be all like, Esme, this is beautifully executed. You’re a top-notch scientist, a prodigy, and exceptionally impressive for your age. And I’d preen but also play it off as no big deal. Then he’d say the magic words, the ones I’d waited my whole life for him to say: I’m proud of you.

Except, because I’m me, I didn’t produce a beautifully executed, top-notch volcano. I came in too hard, too fast, with too much enthusiasm. I crafted a disaster.

“Esme,” he’d said. “Why?”

And that was pretty much what I’d grown to expect from the pair of us, and I was pretty sure that was what he expected too. I’d do something stupid with hope in my heart, and he’d look at me like I was from another planet. To him, it probably seemed that instead of looking for his approval, it was my life’s greatest ambition to perpetually shock and horrify him with my wild ineptitude.

So as we reached my porch and stepped through the front door, all I could imagine him seeing in my home was more failure.

I’d cleaned pretty much non-stop since I found out he was coming. But as I stood beside my big brother in my living room, what I saw was the curl at the edge of the carpet and the dust I’d missed under the coffee table.

Inwardly cringing, I peeled my gaze from those stupid overlooked details and forced myself to check my brother’s expression. It was blank.

“This is the living room,” I said, as if that wasn’t obvious. With a wave of my hand, I gestured past the couch. “Kit⁠—”

I spotted the bag of pee sticks on the counter, and my heart just about stopped.

I grabbed Gabe’s arm maybe a little too hard, and shoved him down the small hall. “Bedroom and bathroom are down there.”

“Are you suggesting I look at those myself?”

“I’m right behind you,” I said as I ran to the kitchen and stashed the bag in the plate cabinet.

Then I ran back to find Gabe standing exactly where I’d left him. Only now he’d shoved his hands in his pockets and his blank expression had turned slightly concerned.

I pretended not to notice and waved a hand at the bathroom. “Water runs and everything.”

Then the bedroom, where a pile of clothes sat on top of the dresser, and a few rogue articles lay scattered across the floor. Crap on a cracker. Too late to avoid him seeing that. Still, I scooped up the most obvious bra and dress and tossed them in the hamper, while simultaneously kicking a few things under the bed. Years of practice had made me a quick-clean-up ninja.

Then I turned and beamed at my brother, wishing I didn’t feel that familiar cautious hope building in my system. I didn’t want to feel like that fourth grader expecting him to adore my volcano. I wanted to be able to accept whatever he had to say and not care.

My cheeks started to hurt I was smiling so hard and so long.

Finally, Gabe said, “It’s a nice house.”

There was no cause for celebration yet. There was a but coming. There had to be a but. Waiting for it was agony. I said, “But….”

“No additional clause required. It’s a nice house, Esme. I’m glad to know where you are living. It offers…peace of mind.”

“Okay….” I didn’t know how to take that. It was a nice thing, right? He was saying I didn’t fail?

“It’s a good fit, and safe, for however long you’re planning your trip to last.”

Ah, there was the but. He didn’t approve of my life or my choices. He was temporarily accepting the current arrangement until I came to my senses and returned home like a good little girl.

“Well,” I said. “This has been nice. But if you don’t mind, I still need to shower before breakfast, so….”

“I’ll let myself out,” he said with a small but warm smile filled with genuine affection, because after all of our troubles, he was a good brother who loved me.

“See you at breakfast.” I waved at his back as he left. And when I heard the front door click shut behind him, I collapsed onto the bed.

I really did need to take that shower. I was going to do it, and I would make myself up like a smokin’ put-together woman capable of running her own life.

And I would see Gabe and not care what he thought. And I would see Jasper, too. Ugh.

I wouldn’t think about the confident way Jasper carried himself. I would not think about the way we’d actually gotten along for a little while during the night. I would not think about the way his green eyes sparkled like stolen emeralds when he broke the rules, almost like we were playing a forbidden game that he perversely enjoyed.

And I definitely would not think about the way he twisted those locker knobs or the scandalous resulting photograph he had on his phone.

My belly got all warm and swimmy as I didn’t think about Jasper.

But I’d nicknamed him The Disaster for a reason. No way would I let him charm away my defenses or forget that deep down, he was the same boy who betrayed me long ago.

I couldn’t avoid him completely, obviously. But there was safety in numbers. And I could make good decisions. I’d prove it to myself and to Gabe.

No chance was I going anywhere alone with Jasper Carrington again.

ELEVEN

JASPER

I woke up in bed with a woman I had absolutely no interest in. Jules was completely naked, her head on my chest, her arm and leg draped over my completely clothed form.

She started to stir, eyes still closed, tilting her face up toward mine. She was objectively beautiful, intelligent, and great fun for meaningless sex. She hadn’t tried to string me into a commitment. She didn’t kick puppies, make racist comments, or belittle servers at restaurants.

There was nothing wrong with her. Still, I had no interest. So then, what was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I enjoy a no-strings-attached, fuck-around week with her?

It wasn’t just the fact that I didn’t want to sleep with her, either. I didn’t want her as my date for this trip. I didn’t want her here in my room.

The scars my dad had caused ran deeper than I’d realized, I guessed.

None of my feelings were fair to Jules, obviously. What was I supposed to do now? I’d already brought her halfway around the world. My only choice was to shove down these pointless and unfortunate feelings, and make the best of our situation.

I slipped out from underneath her and off the bed. I went to the corner of the room where I’d left my luggage. Except it wasn’t there.

I ran a hand over my face. It didn’t help wipe away the tiredness that penetrated deep into my bones. It also didn’t help my bag magically appear where it was supposed to be.

Had I put it somewhere else and forgotten? Had Jules moved it? I checked the closet, the dressers, every nook and cranny of the room. I checked the balcony and the ground below. My bag was gone.

A small knot of worry formed in my chest. Clothes were replaceable, but the one keepsake I’d brought along for the trip wasn’t.

“Hey.” I poked Jules in the shoulder.

“Ungh.”

“Do you know what happened to my bag?”

“Why would I know what you did with your things?” She rolled over and buried her head under her pillow.

Was she pissed at me for leaving last night? Did she do something to my bag because of it?

“Jules.” I walked around to the other side of the bed and peeled the pillow from her arms.

“What?” She glared at me through sleepy eyes.

“Are we all right?”

“We? There’s no we. You’ve made that more than clear, Jasper. Leave me alone.”

“Did you do something to my bag?”

She growled and sat upright. “No. I did not touch your bag. I have no reason to care about your clothes.”

I believed her. But if she didn’t move it, who did?

“So you aren’t mad at me?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m pissed at you. Is that not obvious?”

“Why?”

“How would you like to be woken to the Spanish Inquisition?”

I just blinked at her.

“If you’re not going to let me sleep,” she said, “you at least owe me some coffee.”

She wasn’t pissed about the lack of sex, or about me leaving last night and not coming back until sunrise. She was pissed that I’d woken her.

I said, “We’re supposed to meet everyone for breakfast before today’s outing.”

“So long as that means coffee for me, I’m in.”

I already regretted waking her. If I hadn’t, she may have spent her day doing her own thing. Then we probably both would have been happier.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth. At least my toothbrush wasn’t missing.

Then, since Jules still wasn’t ready, I headed down to do a more thorough check of the area beneath our balcony. There was no sign of my luggage. I talked to three different employees. Everyone promised to keep an eye out.

Finally, when I returned to our room, Jules was ready and waiting for the coffee I’d promised. We went down for breakfast.

It was hard to believe we’d only been in Calypso Caribella for one day. That meant six left to go before I was able to return home. I felt guilty for even thinking it, but I was ready for this trip to be over.

At least there was the time I was able to spend with Gabriel. Seeing him actually happy was worth any discomfort. Plus, I was getting some time with my brother Oscar, who was nearly as difficult to lock down. Spending time with Esme last night had been surprisingly tolerable, too. Nice, even.

An image of Esme tossing her wild hair and arching her back filled my head—her cheeks pink and her lips parted.

That happened. The evidence was on my phone immortalized in a photo. My fingers flexed over my pocket.

Yes, Jasper. You like it like that? Her voice teased in my head.

Acutely I was aware of Jules walking beside me, her attention fully on her phone. I glanced at her twice with irrational concern that she would somehow read my thoughts.

I needed to focus on the positives of the trip, block out the mental image of Esme squeezing her breasts, and enjoy the scenery and the break from work. I couldn’t say when I’d last taken more than a weekend off. I tended to go from one project to the next.

Morning light flooded the resort’s private dining patio. The sun was already strong, casting shadows and warming my skin as I stepped out from the building’s shade.

Colorful flowers decorated a long, white table, where our party enjoyed food and animated conversation. A second set of tables lined the far wall, topped with an elaborate spread of breakfast fare.

I filled a plate with tropical fruit, some kind of quiche, and a decadent cinnamon pastry, while Jules grabbed just a cup of coffee. We joined our party at the long table. Two open seats waited for us between Oscar and a guy named Chester. I knew almost nothing about Chester beyond the fact that he was a friend of Layana’s, and he wore a beard made of cheese when he was on TV.

I let Jules choose where she’d be more comfortable, and then I took the other seat, which happened to be next to Oscar.

It also happened to be directly across from Esme.

She looked entirely too put together for this hour after the night we’d had. She’d styled her ginger hair in silky waves. She didn’t slouch or sag her shoulders. No darkness circled her eyes. If anything, her skin glowed.

“You look tired,” Gabriel said as soon as I sat down. Concern lined his forehead. “Did you find your accommodations lacking?”

“Oh, no. The room’s good,” I said. “I think it was just the jet lag that messed with my sleep.”

Jules sank deeper into her seat, sipped on her mug, and picked up conversation with Layana’s sisters and friends at that end of the table.

“Weird about the jet lag,” Esme said. “It’s only an hour time difference.”

It was too early to deal with Esme’s fangs.

I sighed. “Travel fatigue.”

A devious glimmer filled her eyes. “And aren’t those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday? Almost like you didn’t sleep at all. What were you doing last night?”

I gave her a swift but not-too-hard kick to the shin.

“Ow.” Gabriel frowned at me. “Did you just kick me?”

Whoops. “Sorry. Just stretching my legs.”

Delight radiated off Esme like she was a fiery meteor.

Jules glanced at Esme, looked her up and down, then said to Gabriel, “He couldn’t sleep. Went off wandering in the night.”

Her explanation caught me by surprise. I hadn’t realized she was listening to our conversation. I turned my attention to my plate and took a bite of quiche. Onion, thyme, and a spice blend I didn’t recognize coated my tongue. It would have been delicious if I wasn’t caught in Esme’s crosshairs. I would have enjoyed the entire island experience more if she wasn’t trying to destroy me.

What would Gabriel think if he knew I’d spent the night with Esme? Nothing good. Of course, we didn’t do anything wrong, but as overprotective as Gabriel was of his baby sister….

“It was hard for me to sleep, too.” Layana gestured with her thumb toward Gabriel. “I made this guy go out and fetch me some ice cream.”

Gabriel beamed at her with pure adoration.

“Did the ice cream help?” I asked, grateful not to be the focus of conversation.

“Nope, but it was delicious,” Layana said.

“I’d gladly go again, anywhere you’d like,” Gabriel said.

The two of them flashed lovey eyes back and forth, the perfect portrait of a happy couple. Oscar reached beside him and took Morgan’s hand. She leaned her head on his shoulder. I would have felt like I was in a Norman Rockwell painting if not for the woman sitting across the table, still staring straight at me.

Esme’s lips curled like the Grinch’s. With faux nonchalance, she said, “So when you got back from your adventure, Jasper, you came straight here?”

Did she want Gabriel to find out the two of us were together? Again, images of Esme pink-cheeked and eyelashes fluttering filled my head. I should delete the photo.

She wouldn’t purposefully upset Gabriel during his wedding festivities, would she? No. She had never purposefully antagonized Gabriel, even though he’d often thought that was her motivation. It was more a byproduct of Esme being Esme and Gabriel being Gabriel.

Did that mean Esme was trying to get me in trouble with Jules? If so, she vastly overestimated how much Jules cared about my comings and goings.

“I slept a bit before breakfast,” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie. I’d tried to sleep, but instead I’d been stuck in my own head, overanalyzing the strangely enjoyable adventure I’d had with Esme. Eventually I’d dozed off, at least for a few minutes. “Since you’re so interested in my clothing, though, I do have a good explanation for it. My luggage is missing.”

“Oh no,” Layana said. “Did you have it when we checked in?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Did you ask your girlfriend? Maybe she burned it,” Esme said.

The immediate urge to correct Esme struck me. Jules was not my girlfriend. I bit the inside of my cheek.

I waited for Jules to say something, but she seemed completely engaged in conversation with Chester.

“Arson would be extreme,” Gabriel frowned at Esme. “Why would you think that?”

Oscar raised a brow and cast me a questioning glance. “It would also leave some pretty damning evidence.”

“There are no burn marks in the room,” I said, as if this ridiculous conversation deserved a response.

“Hey, Jules, did you throw Jasper’s clothes out the window?” Esme asked.

Jules still didn’t acknowledge what was being said. Her back was completely turned to me. She nodded and laughed at something one of Layana’s sisters said.

Esme twisted her lips and looked at me with a smirk that implied Jules’s head nod was an admission of guilt.

“My clothes would be scattered in the trees and on the ground if that were the case,” I said. “They aren’t.”

“You should report that your luggage is missing,” Gabriel said. “Have staff help in the search.”

“I did,” I said. I hoped they’d find it.

Esme scribbled on a napkin with a crayon, like a five-year-old who couldn’t sit through a meal without something to do with her hands. Where did she even get the crayon? Knowing her, she was drawing a little stick figure giving the middle finger that she’d flash at me later.

Layana grinned at Gabriel. “Remember when you didn’t bring a bag for our ski trip?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be an overnight,” Gabriel said.

“And then there was only one bed,” Layana said. “And you taught me how to ski.”

He kissed her on the nose.

She’d clearly taught him a thing or two as well, like how to enjoy his life for a change. Their cheesy and sweet interactions made my chest feel lighter.

Speaking of cheesy, Esme’s musician friend entered the dining room and headed straight for Esme. There was something off about him, and it wasn’t just the fact that he was far too old for Esme. I wasn’t sure what that something was though. It was a feeling, and my muscles tensed every time he came near.

The musician whistled, sharp and melodic, almost like a bird call.

Esme set down her crayon and twisted in her seat, just in time to catch a small object I hadn’t seen him toss.

Her eyes lit up as she looked at the tiny something cradled in her hands. She waved at him. “Thank you, Z!”

He threw a lopsided grin back at her and winked.

What was Z short for? Why was Esme so pleased that he’d whistled at her like a dog? Certainly Gabriel shared the same questions…or he would have, had he not been making out with his future wife.

“What did he throw at you?” I asked Esme.

Her smile faded as she met my gaze. “Why do you care?”

I shrugged. I shot a glance at the two sets of lovebirds, then another at Jules, who still had her back completely turned to me. “What else am I supposed to do?”

Esme said, “All right then. It’s a caramel.”

“The musician throws caramels at you often enough for you to know that’s what he’s going to do?”

“He tossed it gently to me, and yes, because they’re my favorite.”

I didn’t know she liked caramel. It seemed the kind of thing I should know. We’d known each other for forever, and this guy had hardly known her any time at all. He wasn’t supposed to know what her favorite anything was, let alone something I didn’t.

“You look like you just smelled a fart,” Esme said.

I licked my lips. “Delicious.”

She laughed and passed the napkin she’d been drawing on over to me. In typical Esme fashion, the doodle was a stick figure giving me the finger.

Esme rolled the crayon across the table. She put her chin in her hands and rested her elbows on the table as she waited for my response.

I wrote:

You stole my luggage, didn’t you?

That was ridiculous, of course. I passed the napkin and the crayon back.

She wrote back:

The ghosts probably stole your luggage.

She didn’t really believe in ghosts, did she?

I wrote:

Ghosts aren’t real.

It felt like we were in middle school passing secret scraps of paper back and forth while the teacher wasn’t looking. Of course when I was in seventh grade, Esme was in kindergarten. Still, that didn’t change the slight thrill of what we were doing now.

She scribbled a note and passed the napkin back. It read:

The island says otherwise.

For my turn, I wrote:

Where would ghosts hide my suitcase?

She wrote:

Who knows? They’re ghosts.

Gabriel and Layana softened from deep tongue lashings to lighter pecks, meaning they were almost done, and our time before getting caught was running out.

This was my last turn, and the stakes felt higher than they had any right to. I wrote:

Sounds like another mystery. Will you help me solve it? Circle one: yes, no.

Just as I slid the note back, Jules turned around and leaned her head on my shoulder and looked up at me. “I’m going to grab another cup of coffee.”

Guilt and excitement pumped through my veins, which I knew was ridiculous because I hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Okay,” I told Jules.

As Jules walked away, Esme chewed her lip. Indecision warred on her features. Finally, she flashed me the napkin one last time, with her answer circled.

Yes.

TWELVE

ESME

It wasn’t entirely fair of me to take my agitation out on Jasper. Did he deserve to be tortured? Sure. Whenever I thought about him, I couldn’t help but remember his betrayal. So if someone were to sprinkle glitter in his shampoo, I would laugh and cheer the perpetrator’s spiteful spirit.

But Jasper didn’t deserve to lose all of his clothes. Just his left socks.

He also didn’t deserve all of the space in my head I’d allowed him. It was a hostile takeover, and I didn’t care for it.

When he’d shown up at breakfast, I should have ignored the fluttery feeling in my stomach. No, I should have ignored him altogether. And I never ever should have agreed to help him find his luggage.

Why did I do this kind of thing to myself?

To balance a bad decision with a good one, I slipped off after breakfast while everyone got ready for the day’s outing.

And I peed on a fistful of sticks all at once.

Then another.

Then one handful more.

My bladder empty, my hands shaking, I spread the tests across the kitchen counter and set timers on my phone.

The seconds relentlessly stretched into an eternity. The distortion felt like the universe mocking whatever courage I’d thought I’d mustered. My heart pounded in my ears until the thumping ran together in a high-pitched ring that drowned out the sounds of the sea in my backyard.

No matter what the test showed, my situation wouldn’t change. It would be whatever was already happening with my body.

I tried to relive the positivity I’d felt on the beach before breakfast, when I’d imagined a mini me building sandcastles on the shore. But even when I pictured her, when I ran through the memory, I couldn’t manage the same feelings.

What if the tests were all negative and then there was no mini me? Even though that was what I thought I wanted, what if that meant I was destined to be alone forever with no one to truly understand me?

What if the test was positive but I didn’t get a mini me? What if I got a mini…whoever the father was? A complete stranger. What if mini-stranger questioned every single choice I made?

My stomach twisted and threatened to shoot my breakfast straight up into my mouth.

Then the alarm went off, or at least the first of them. My stomach froze, too terrified to spew. Saved by the bell, or damned by it, or both, or neither. I didn’t know what to think. I only knew I had never been so afraid of anything in my life.

I sucked in a sharp breath, let the air linger in my lungs until it burned, and checked the results.

Positive.

Okay, that was just one test. It didn’t mean anything, not when twenty-six other tests could be negative.

The alarm went off again. I checked the second test.

Positive.

I felt numb as the next alarm went off and the next. All twenty-seven tests, including the fancy ones and the shoddiest ones from the dollar store, came back with the same result.

Pregnant.

Any hope of a misunderstanding or mistake slowly evaporated from my brain, leaving only the certainty that this was real. It was happening to me.

I was going to have a baby.

Hey, look at that, I could say the actual B word. At least in my head. There was no reason to get carried away just yet.

Baby, baby, baby, baby.

I made my way back to the resort, loaded up in one of the cars with Morgan and Layana, and directed the driver to an unnamed secret spot on the island that was my own private hideaway. I hoped Layana and Gabe would appreciate the uniqueness of it and choose it as the venue for their ceremony.

During the drive, I’d have probably been freaking out over what Gabriel would think of my hideaway if I wasn’t so distracted. But…I was having a baby. I didn’t even throw up in my mouth thinking it. I, Esme Stryker, was going to be the mother of a tiny human who would grow up into a real live person with their own hopes and dreams.

In accepting reality, I felt a strange certainty. I knew exactly what I was going to do. Against all odds, my one-time hookup while using protection had resulted in something extraordinary.

That tiny pecan in my uterus was going to be my ride-or-die. Eventually, I’d figure out the details, but for now, I needed to keep myself distracted so I didn’t end up having a hysterical breakdown during my brother’s wedding festivities.

Just six more days, and then I could focus on my own life and on figuring out what the newest version was going to look like. At that point, Gabe and everyone else would fly home. I’d unwittingly been in this position for three months without knowing, so what was six more days? A blip.

Until those six days had passed, the best thing I could do was stay as busy and distracted as possible. Today’s outing was perfect for just that.

We arrived at our destination and everyone piled out by the cliffs.

I realized once we piled out that most of the group hung back at the resort, with just the bride, groom, best man, and maid of honor coming along for input on choosing a site for the ceremony. Plus me, their island guide.

And also, for some reason, Jules was here.

All signs of civilization were long behind us. There was only the sound of water crashing on rocks, the wind, and the cawing of a particularly loud bird somewhere in the trees.

Gabe, Jasper, and Jules looked over the water, while Morgan, Layana, and I hung back.

“The waves on the resort are nonexistent, but this—” Jasper gestured toward the sea with wide arms. “This is what I’ve been waiting for.”

Gabe said something back, but I didn’t catch what it was. I shouldn’t be paying attention to them anyway.

Layana stood next to me, flipping through the sites on her phone that she’d bookmarked in advance. “Maybe after this, we should check this spot.”

Morgan stood on her other side watching her screen.

I nodded as I looked at the picturesque landscape in the photo. Lots of rocks. I recognized it. “Montane Bluff is a popular spot for a reason. It’s gorgeous from afar.”

“But up close?” Layana asked.

“There’s a bit of a seagull infestation. At sunset, the squawking is deafening.” I pointed to the white rock at the center of the screen. “The actual stone isn’t white. It’s slate gray.”

“That’s all….” Layana’s face twisted.

“Yep.”

“Gross.” Morgan frowned, then she poked Layana. “Show her the other one, with the flowers.”

Layana swiped her thumb over the screen.

I didn’t need a picture to know what Morgan was talking about though. “Canna Gardens would be a solid choice. They do book for events in advance though, so we couldn’t just pop in.”

“The whole last-minute thing isn’t in our favor there then,” Layana said with a warm smile. “We’re so lucky to have your insight, Esme.”

“I’m glad to help.” She was too sweet. They chose this place because of me. The least I could do was offer my knowledge of the area. “Do you have any others you want to show me?”

“Nah,” Layana said. “Trusting you is going to be our best bet. I’m sure of it.”

No pressure or anything.

Morgan offered a reassuring nod. They were both super sweet. Gabe was lucky to have such a warm found family. I hadn’t built myself as strong of a support system yet. Ziggy and Sage were awesome, though. So was Rufus, at least when he wasn’t trying to murder lizards. Everyone on the island had been welcoming to me. One day I’d have an awesome found family of my own.

“All right, I hope I don’t let you down,” I said, and started toward the guys.

“You won’t,” Gabe said.

That was particularly warm and fuzzy, because he wasn’t much for doling out compliments. It made me choke a little on my spit.

“It’s this way.” I led the group down the narrow path that wound down the cliffside.

“I’ll pass,” Jules said from the back of the group.

Her loss.

“You came all this way,” Jasper said.

Their voices echoed across the stone, louder than they would have been in an open space. The path here was a bit like an underground tunnel, with the high wall of rock protecting the way from the ocean wind.

Morgan’s fiancé Oscar hadn’t come, since he wasn’t part of the wedding party. Juno was a bridesmaid and she wasn’t here. I didn’t understand why Jules had bothered. She wasn’t a part of this, and didn’t need to be here.

“You want me to call you a car?” Jasper asked. “I have to go down.”

“No,” Jules said.

A few more whispers were exchanged, then nothing.

The tunnel got a bit dark, so I used my phone flashlight to illuminate the way.

Everyone grew deathly quiet, and I could practically hear their internal thoughts questioning the faith they’d just expressed in me. Since they hadn’t been here before, I could see how it would feel like we were descending into a dragon or serial killer’s lair.

But everything would be fine. I’d been down here a thousand times, and I’d only run into a snake once. As for fire-breathing murderers—zero.

“It’s perfectly safe,” I said. “Just a bit farther.”

A few more steps and the tunnel opened up to an underground grotto. An audible gasp resounded through the group as they took in the space. It was the only possible response, really.

The lagoon glowed electric blue with bioluminescent algae, casting soft light over the volcanic rock faces.

“Esme.” Layana clasped her hands together. “This is amazing.”

I grinned at her. “I know.”

“Does the cavern flood during changes in tide?” Gabe asked.

“We’re already at high tide,” I said. “That’s as high as the water gets.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and inspected the space.

“The only bad thing is the rock can be a little slippery, so watch your step.” I walked around the glowing pool to the largest area of flat rock. “I was thinking we’d gather over here.”

“It’ll be tighter than the other venues,” Morgan said, “but so worth it.”

Jasper stalked slowly along the walls with Gabe, frowning. He was probably stewing about his girlfriend chickening out. Or he hated the cave. A knot formed in my chest.

It didn’t matter what he thought, anyway. This was about Gabe and Layana. Still, I found my attention flicking to him, waiting for him to say something. He had to like it. It was impossible not to.

Also, I needed to tell him I wasn’t interested in helping him find his suitcase. I’d slipped up and let myself not entirely hate his company last night. And if I was being honest with myself, our napkin exchange at breakfast was amusing. Positive interactions with Jasper were a slippery slope. Nothing good could come of them.

A napkin note wasn’t a promise. My best course of action to keep the peace was to stay away from Jasper until he left.

Gabe rejoined the rest of us. “Perhaps candles along the walls would help further illuminate the space.”

“So you like it?” Layana pulled on his arm.

“You’d better,” Morgan said. “It’s amazing.”

Gabe turned his attention to me. His dark eyes burned with their usual intensity.

I held my breath.

“It’s perfect,” he said. “Thank you, Esme.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I mean, of course there was no way anyone could possibly not appreciate the perfection of this place. But I was still a little shocked, and relieved, and awed? Whatever I felt, it was lightness in my chest, and it required an itty bitty victory dance.

Morgan chuckled. I smiled back at her.

Then I glanced over at Jasper, who was staring at the wall like a weirdo. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he over here oohing and ahhing like the occasion called for?

Morgan led Layana and Gabe to the biggest, flattest area. She gestured with her arms. “We need to work out all the logistics. I’m thinking no chairs. Can you imagine having to carry them up and down the claustrophobic path here?”

“Agreed,” Layana said. “We should only bring what we can carry easily, maybe use backpacks.”

I left them to it. Even though it made my chest tight, I wandered over to see what Jasper was doing, because apparently I couldn’t help myself. I mean, clearly he’d found something incredibly interesting in the wall there. Maybe it was diamonds growing in the volcanic rock.

And I had to tell him I wasn’t going to hang out with him later.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and his lips turned up on one side in one of his stupid charming smiles.

I wanted to ask why Jules had come along to just stand by herself. I wanted to ask why he’d brought her at all. But my mouth went dry and I found myself wanting to smile back at him, which was of course super dumb.

So instead of asking about his girlfriend or smiling, I flattened my lips and said, “You Blair Witch-ing it over here?”

“Snotting while I walk in circles and flashing a light in my own face?” He touched his upper lip, eyes twinkling. “I don’t feel any snot.”

Don’t smile. He’s not funny. He’s not cute. He’s Jasper the Disaster.

“I meant staring into a corner to be creepy, but now that you mention it, you do look a little snotty.” There was no snot. He looked extra masculine, actually, with the shadows and blue light highlighting the strong lines of his face. He had a jaw carved of stone. Plus, not having his razor meant he had a bit of stubble that I imagined would prickle just right under my touch.

“It’s not really a corner. The wall is smooth and flat,” he said. “But that’s not what I’m looking at. Here.”

He offered me a folded piece of paper. It looked old, and like it had been wet, then dried weird.

I shot him a questioning look. I had no idea if he could make out my expression in the darkness.

“Take it. It’s not a trap,” he said.

“I didn’t think it was a trap until you said that,” I teased as I took the paper and shined my flashlight on it. It was an old pamphlet advertising a resort that didn’t exist. It took a moment, but then it clicked. “This is for the ruins.”

“Ruins?”

“There’s an old resort not too far outside the one where you’re staying,” I said. “It’s a hot mess, like the owner just gave up on repairs one day and left it to rot.”

“So you don’t know why it was abandoned?”

“Nope.”

Jasper rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger, reminding me of last night when I’d teased him about pinching the locker’s nips. And all of a sudden, my nips were hard. Definitely from the cool underground chill. It couldn’t be anything more. My traitorous body couldn’t react to him. And if it did, it had to be my hormones’ fault. I’d heard pregnancy could cause horniness, so if Jasper was affecting me, anything with a penis could. Probably even a sea cucumber. It meant nothing.

“A dilapidated resort sounds like the perfect place for ghosts to hide,” Jasper said.

This was my chance to shut him down. This was my chance to say no.

Instead, I said, “Maybe.”

He leaned closer, his warm breath tickling against the side of my neck. “Tonight, we hunt.”

The deep but gentle sound of his voice made my skin prickle. Awareness washed across my nerves, heating me from the soles of my feet to the base of my neck. Worse, his wild scent filled my lungs. He smelled like a tropical lumberjack, masculine and rough with a touch of the sea and a hint of freshly washed sheets drying on a clothesline in the sun back home. My breath caught. It was definitely the hormones. Stupid hormones.

“You guys coming?” Layana called.

Coming? Not yet. He’d have to touch me first.

I bristled alert and took one huge step away from Jasper, extra grateful the poor lighting meant no one could see the searing full-body blush I could feel radiating from my skin.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “On the way.”

Poop on the stoop…I was big time attracted to Jasper freaking Carrington.

If I was going to survive the next few days with my clearly crazed pregnancy brain, I would have to start a mental list of all the reasons absolutely nothing could ever happen between us.

One—he was Jasper. We’d grown up together. He was supposed to be more like a brother to me than an actual man. Two—he was my brother’s best friend. That in and of itself made the situation too complicated. This week was all about Gabe and Layana. I wouldn’t risk disrupting that for anything. Three—Jasper had a freaking girlfriend and he was serious enough about her to bring her to his best friend’s wedding. Cheating was a full-stop no-go. Four—in case my crazed brain needed another reason—I was pregnant. Even if, despite everything else, we both wanted something to happen, it couldn’t. No man would want to get involved with a knocked up hot mess.

That was a lot of totally reasonable reasons.

“Anyone know anything about a biscuit bandit?” I asked, repeating the weird whisper from last night, and specifically not looking at Jasper.

“That’s a peculiar question,” Gabe said to me.

“Is that a no?” I asked him.

“That’s a no,” he said.

Morgan and Layana shook their heads.

“Know any secret soap opera stars?” I asked.

Again, my strange question was answered with confused head shakes. Well, it was worth asking.

I followed Gabe, Morgan, and Layana out of the cave, more or less content that there was no reason to worry even if we spent time alone together tonight. There was absolutely zero chance of me hooking up with Jasper.

THIRTEEN

JASPER

There was always this voice in the back of my head, my father’s voice, telling me not to fuck up. I felt pressure to be amicable, or as Oscar had politely put it, I was the golden retriever of the family. If I didn’t go along with everything, if I fought the tide, I’d drown and lose everyone I cared about. So I didn’t. I let things happen and put up with any discomfort.

That’s what had led me into this situation. But this time I could right my mistake, or at least, it wouldn’t hurt so bad when I lost.

Once we were alone in our room I told Jules, “We need to talk.”

She stretched herself across the bed, flitted her eyelashes, and unbuttoned her shirt. “I’m in the mood for something different.”

“I’m not interested in that.”

“Ugh.” She dropped her head back onto the mattress. “All we have in common is sex. All of your social responsibilities are disgustingly not worth the aggravation without it. If you won’t fuck me, what did you bring me along with you for?”

I sat on the edge of the bed, my back turned to her. The prolonged tension of her being here exhausted my entire body. “I’ve been asking myself the very same thing.”

“It’s Esme, isn’t it?”

She said it with a tone of indifference, but I bristled at her suggestion nonetheless.

“This is about me,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at her. “That’s it.”

“You’re in love with her.” Jules rolled her eyes. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”

“I’m not in love with Esme.” My voice held more bite than I’d expected. It was a ridiculous suggestion. Esme had nothing to do with me and Jules. Plus, there was no me and Jules anyway. I screwed up by bringing Jules to the island. I needed to fix it. Whole story. “You need to leave.”

As soon as the words left my lips, the tension in my shoulders began to ease. This was the right thing to do.

She climbed out of the bed and stood in front of me, forcing me to look at her. Her expression transformed from mild annoyance to emergency-alarm-level fury. “Let me get this straight, you drag me onto a plane⁠—”

“Drag you? You begged me to come along.”

“Doesn’t matter what I did. This is about you, right?” She glared so hard I imagined she was trying to set my hair on fire with her eyes. “You brought your fuck buddy across an ocean as a date for a wedding. We’ve barely been here a day and a half, and you think you can just dispose of me?”

Dispose was such a harsh word, as if I’d used her, as if I thought she was garbage. That wasn’t at all my intention. I took a breath. She needed to know that wasn’t how I felt. “I’ll pay for everything. I apologize for⁠—”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her chin.

One word, a full sentence. I leaned back and rested my hands on the mattress, determined to keep my body language open, determined not to yell like my father would.

Finally, I said, “No?”

“Why should I have to leave just because you changed your mind? This is my vacation, too. I’m not leaving.” Jules set her jaw and squared her shoulders. Everything about her body language said she was unwilling to yield. There would be no compromise, only a fight.

I stared at her and let her words sink in. I could physically carry her out of our room, buy her the plane ticket to get her home, but I couldn’t force her to get on that plane. Worse, she was right. I was the asshole here.

“You should have thought about your feelings before inviting me,” she said, her tone a sledgehammer dipped in acid. “Suck it up and deal with the consequences.”

I was trying to do that. She wasn’t making it easy.

“Also, if you aren’t going to fuck me, I’m not going to any more of your social gatherings. No meals, no obligatory events, no sightseeing on the cliffs.”

I held back my sigh of relief. The last thing I needed to do was provoke her further.

“Perfect. I’ll find you another room.” I strode straight out the door. I couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

“Find yourself a different room,” she called after me. “I like this one.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face, a mix of relief and frustration warring through my head. Out of all of my offenses, Jules seemed most pissed that I’d suggested she go home.

Everything would be all right. All I had to do was book another room, and my mistake would correct itself. It would be like I’d never brought her here. We’d each enjoy our own vacation, completely separate from each other. Everyone would be happy.

I made my way down to the desk, where I was greeted by the same man who had welcomed us to the island yesterday morning. He had a gentle smile and an air of relaxed authority. It took me a moment to remember his name—Stan.

“Good day, Mr. Carrington,” Stan said, clearly remembering my name. “What can I do for you today?”

“Hi. I’d like to book a new room.”

“Have you found something about your quarters unsatisfactory?”

“No, nothing like that. I’d like a second room. One for me, one for my…companion.”

“I understand, and wish I could accommodate your request, but we’re completely booked.”

Claws of worry climbed up my spine. I’d done the difficult thing by telling Jules the truth. Now what? I couldn’t go back and sleep in the same bed as her. I wouldn’t.

I took a moment, and a measured breath.

“There has to be something, right? It doesn’t have to be fancy. I’m happy with the basics.” A closet. A shed. “Really, anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Carrington, I wish I could help. I’d be happy to make some calls to the bed and breakfasts around the island, but this morning’s check-in wasn’t promising.”

My lungs compressed, weight crushing in on me from both sides.

I said, “Everything on the entire island is booked?”

“As of eight this morning. Dry season is our most popular for tourism. I apologize for the inconvenience, and would be happy to place those calls.”

No one wanted to get caught in a hurricane, so of course everyone planned their trips in the same half of the year. All of this made sense, but it didn’t help me.

“That’s all right. Thank you, Stan.” I turned to go, my gut feeling hollow. I couldn’t go back to Jules, not after the way we’d left things. We’d both made our stances clear, and nothing had changed.

Two steps and I realized I still had another problem to deal with.

“Is there something else I can do for you, Mr. Carrington?” Stan asked.

“My luggage went missing. It’s a black suitcase, about this big.” I gestured with my hands. “Has anyone turned it in?”

“I haven’t seen it, and the staff already knows to look out for it.”

“Thanks.”

It was a long shot anyway. No one would remove my suitcase from my room only to turn it in at lost and found.

As I turned to go, I noticed a drawer slightly ajar behind the desk, brimming with a whole lot of shiny, rectangular things, each one about the size of my palm. Curious, I leaned closer to try and make out what they were.

Individually wrapped, white chocolate macadamia chunk cookies.

Stan snapped the drawer shut, drawing my attention back to his now-strained smile. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks again.”

I couldn’t help but think back to the whispers Esme and I had heard coming through the vent last night. Lots of people referred to cookies as biscuits. Could Stan’s stash be the biscuits in question?

Since I had no room to go back to, I headed out to the beach and found a solitary place to sit in the sand and watch the waves.

My options were limited. I couldn’t impose on the bride and groom. I couldn’t ask my brother and his fiancée, either, without ruining their trip. That left people I didn’t know particularly well. Or Esme.

Before my fallout with Jules, I wouldn’t have thought anything of staying with Esme. Sure, we weren’t close, but we were still friends. We knew each other well enough that it wouldn’t be strange for me to ask to crash on her couch for a few days.

But then Jules had to go and say what she said.

I definitely was not in love with Esme. But if Jules thought that I was, it was possible other people could have the same thoughts. Was I doing something that made it appear from the outside that I had feelings for Esme?

That possibility in and of itself was dangerous. The last thing I wanted to do was upset Gabriel.

Maybe the best solution was to sleep in the sand. It’d be like rustic camping. The climate was certainly mild enough for it.

I sat with my thoughts until the sun began to make its way lower in the sky. I walked a bit longer, biding my time until dinner.

At seven, I returned to the dining patio, a little concerned Jules might still show up. But true to her word, she wasn’t there.

I took a seat as far from Esme as possible, joining Layana’s friends Chester and Juno at the end of the table. The waiter took orders.

I’d met Juno and Chester a few times, including in Cricket Falls for Oscar’s proposal to Morgan. I didn’t know much about them except for the fact the pair of them had been contestants on the reality show What the What? with Morgan and Layana. I’d watched the show, just as I had sampled every other project created by Carrington Media.

While my brother Sebastian and I had sold our shares of our father’s company, Oscar had held onto the media division. The business had thrived under his leadership. I was ridiculously, if quietly, proud of him. We’d been raised to withhold praise. Through force of will, I’d grown skilled at disregarding that, along with much of our shared upbringing, except when it came to my brothers. It was hardest to ignore our dead father’s influence when we were together.

It had been a hell of a year for us. First our father had died in May. Then Oscar got amnesia and went missing over the summer.

I considered myself the luckiest of the three of us. I, like Oscar, had had a limited time under the spotlight of our father’s attention. But while that had left Oscar jaded, I was grateful. My mother had more than made up for our father’s failings.

Refocusing my attention on those around me, I asked Juno, “You have a persona for social recognition, right?”

“Yes.” She beamed at me. “For TV and videos and stuff, I’m Glitter Galore.”

I nodded, remembering. “How’s that going?”

A touch of pink crossed her cheeks. “Um…it’s going.”

Apparently, that was not the safe subject of conversation I’d been hoping it would be.

The waiter delivered our food.

Juno pulled out her phone and snapped a pic of her plate before looking back up at me. “The partnerships keep coming, and I have solid interaction numbers.”

“That sounds good.”

“It is good,” she said, then she flicked her gaze to Chester, who was sitting beside me.

“You watched the show,” Chester said to me, not as a question.

“Yes,” I said.

Chester turned his whole body toward me, brushing his knees against my chair. “What did you think of my beard?”

“Your beard?” I was pretty sure he had worn a fake beard during the show. “It was orange, right?”

“A specially carved wheel of cheddar.” His expression was totally blank, his voice flat.

Was he joking? Either he had the driest delivery ever, or….

No, he genuinely wanted to know my thoughts on his cheese beard. Unsure of how to answer, I said, “It was very orange.”

He stared at me a beat before giving me a curt nod and turning back to his plate.

I made a point to focus intently on my pineapple and ham sandwich after that. When I was only a few bites in, I heard Gabriel at the other end of the table.

“What is the nature of your relationship?” he said.

Every muscle in my body tensed. I glanced over. He was looking at Esme.

She rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

“It’s a completely appropriate question to ask,” Gabriel said.

Was he asking about me? Had he made the same clearly wrong assumption Jules had?

Gabriel said, “I want to know about your life here.”

“That’s sweet,” Esme said, sounding like she didn’t think that was sweet at all. “I’ll set your mind at ease and make this as clear as possible.”

Food forgotten, I focused completely on Esme. If she was going to say something about me, it seemed wrong for me not to be a part of the conversation.

“Ziggy and I are friends,” Esme said. “Not only am I not dating him, I am not dating anyone.”

Ziggy—she wasn’t talking about me at all. She was talking about that musician. I wasn’t sure if she was telling Gabriel the truth or telling him what he wanted to hear. I also wasn’t sure if the lump in my chest formed from relief or a bite of ham. Probably the ham.

“I have no interest in dating anyone. My life is full,” Esme said. “I’m building something great here, and I refuse to allow anything to get in the way of that.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Gabriel said. “I’m glad you're focusing on building a life that fulfills you.”

“I’m glad to see you doing the same,” Esme said.

“Perhaps you’ll learn skills that will serve you well when you return home.”

Esme’s lips flattened into a line. She closed her eyes like she was praying for the strength not to snap at her brother.

Did that mean she didn’t plan on coming back to North Carolina? It seemed like it, and it seemed like she’d already told Gabriel as much and he hadn’t listened. Then again, it was none of my business.

I forced myself to look back at my sandwich. I tried to listen to Juno and Chester’s conversation.

“The bartending, does that—” Gabriel’s voice cut short. “Are you all right?”

“I think…I’m….” Esme shot up from her seat.

Concerned by the tone in her voice, I stopped pretending I wasn’t listening, and fully turned my head to look at her. The conversation around me stopped. Juno and Chester were looking too.

Esme’s face had a sickly green tint to it.

She turned around, took two quick strides, and barfed in a potted plant.

I shot up to my feet.

Halfway to her, Gabriel was already there, rubbing her back.

“The chicken you ordered,” Gabriel said. “Perhaps it was prepared with the tangy Polynesian jerk infusion BBQ sauce that you’re allergic to. I’ll call for assistance to get you to a physician.”

“I’m fine.” Esme waved her hands. “You’re probably right. It was definitely the sauce.”

Her voice was too even, almost like Gabriel’s. There was a slight catch in her breath.

Esme was lying. But why?

FOURTEEN

ESME

Bile coated my tongue, and my stomach churned with the promise of round two. “I think I’m going to bail a little early tonight.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Gabe said.

“You don’t have to do that.” I put on my most competent smile. “I’m really okay.”

“I insist.”

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, even though he should be here, enjoying himself instead of worrying unnecessarily about me. Then I’d just end up feeling sick and guilty. I sighed.

“I’ll take her.” Jasper strolled over from the table.

Gabe assessed him.

“Then you can stay and enjoy. You’ve hardly had a chance to eat, Gabriel.” Jasper gestured to Gabe’s full plate.

He definitely had a point.

“You haven’t finished your dinner, either,” Gabe told Jasper.

Jasper popped back over to the table and reached between two of Layana’s sisters to the other side of the table where he’d been seated. The sisters shot wide eyed expressions at each other as they leaned out of his way.

Jasper stood back up, a sandwich in hand, opened his mouth wide, and proceeded to shove the entire thing into his mouth. It was way too large a chunk to fit, basically half his meal, all in one bite.

His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel’s. He awkwardly chewed, a near-impossible task with so much food stuffed in there.

The sisters whispered their disapproval. But I chuckled at Jasper’s ridiculousness.

It was weirdly reassuring that I wasn’t the only one here who made questionable decisions. Jasper making a fool of himself made me feel a little less alone, and even if it wasn’t really for me, it wasn’t nothing.

“Walking me home is an easy peasy job, completely within the realm of best man duties,” I said. “Or, better yet, I could just walk alone.”

Wait. I wasn’t supposed to be spending time with him. And somehow throughout the day, I’d never gotten around to telling him that.

Finally, Jasper finished chewing and swallowed. His face went as green as I imagined mine had been a minute ago. After the food went down, he smiled full-force.

“Call if she vomits again,” Gabe instructed Jasper, in full authoritative dad mode. “Or if she isn’t feeling better once she’s home and in bed.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Scout’s honor,” Jasper said.

“You were never in the scouts,” Gabe said.

“It’s the sentiment that counts.” Jasper flashed one of his award-winning smiles. If I could pull off charm like that, Gabe wouldn’t assign me a babysitter. “Really, Gabe, you can trust me to look out for Esme.”

Better yet, he could trust me to take care of myself. I pressed my lips together, and reminded myself not to antagonize my brother. He would only be here for a few more days.

“I do trust you,” Gabe told Jasper, before turning his attention to me. “Don’t give him any trouble.”

“What do you expect me to do?” I crossed my arms, apparently done with holding things back. “Ditch him on the way there?”

The somehow both blank and warning stare Gabe cast my way was typical. Without him saying a single word, and I could feel waves of disapproval emanating off of him.

Since he clearly didn’t find my suggestion amusing, I said, “I promise to behave.”

Seemingly appeased, he did something very not-Gabe. He smiled. “I hope you feel better, Esme.”

“I do, too,” Layana called to me with a wave.

“Feel better,” Morgan said.

“Thanks.” I waved to everyone, then grabbed my skateboard and left.

Jasper slipped comfortably up next to me. The two of us traveled side-by-side in silence for a while, letting the balmy night envelop us. The wheels of my board bumped along the ground in their familiar rhythm. Salty air filled my lungs. I started feeling better.

It was strange having Jasper here. It was strange being around him again. Our forced proximity stirred up memories I wished I could forget. Like when the idea of marrying my best friend Jasper Carrington had burned bright in my tiny six-year-old brain for five entire days.

It started with an offhand comment from Jackie Lowell on the playground during recess on a cloudy Thursday afternoon. She’d pointed out that if a boy and girl spent all of their time together, their futures were inevitably entwined.

She’d sang a stupid song that lodged itself in my head, tainting everything else that would happen over the following five days. I hadn’t been able to shake the constant reminder that Jasper and I would spend the rest of our lives K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Except that had only happened once.

And it would never, ever happen again.

I turned my chin up and stared at the bright stars that filled the sky. “I didn’t need your help, especially since helping me nearly choked you to death.”

“You caught that, huh?” He chuckled.

“I am perfectly capable of walking myself home,” I said. “I do it all the time. Every day, with no one to check up on me.”

“It’s still nice to have people who care,” Jasper said.

It was. I knew Gabe’s concern came from a good place. “I have people who care here on the island, too.”

“Like your musician not-boyfriend?”

“What’s everyone’s obsession with Ziggy?” I said, letting a tick of annoyance tint my tone. “Yes, he’s a friend. I’ve also gotten close with a fortune teller. And before you consider telling my brother about this new threat to my innocence or whatever, she’s a woman. I’d tell you how old she is, too, but then I’d have to kill you. She made me swear never to tell, and I’m not even sure the number she gave me is real.”

“Why would I tell Gabriel?”

That caused me to pause. Jasper was Gabe’s friend, not mine. And Gabe had requested an update on my behavior.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t run to tell my brother all of the corrupting dangers I subject myself to, like friendships with the menfolk and the consumption of trans fats?”

“Of course not.” He shot me a lopsided grin, with a nose wrinkle and a flash of confusion in his eyes. “Anything you say to me is held in confidence.”

Huh. That was interesting, if true. Sure, when I looked at his open demeanor and his friendly expression, it really seemed like he meant it. But I’d been fooled before.

“Cross your heart, scout’s honor?” I teased.

He grinned at me. “Absofuckinglutely.”

I chuckled despite myself. “All right then.”

I felt my guard slipping ever so slightly, but then again, it wasn’t like I did anything worth reporting back to Gabe anyway.

“How are you feeling?” Jasper asked.

“Better.”

“What’s the story there?” he asked.

Was he calling me out on my lie? I narrowed my gaze at him. “What story?”

“The truth about your stomach issues.”

I felt my fingers tighten involuntarily into fists and forced them to flex back out. “Food intolerance, like I already said.”

“All right.” He shrugged, making it clear that he knew I was lying.

I waited for the follow-up question, the one that called me out directly, but it didn’t come. Eventually, I realized he was just going to let it drop, and I was grateful for that.

“Is Jules doing all right? I noticed she didn’t come for dinner.” I licked my lips and focused on avoiding pebbles on the dark road ahead of us. “She seems like the most trusting girlfriend ever.”

“Jules is not my girlfriend,” Jasper said with a finality that confused me.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“She was never my girlfriend.”

“So, she’s your….” I waited for him to fill in the blanks.

“Nothing. We had some fun, but like these things go, it wasn’t built to last.”

“You brought a fuck buddy to your best friend’s wedding? A destination wedding, where you share a room for an extended period of time?”

“I didn’t want to,” he said, as if that made any sense.

“She bullied you into it?”

“Gabriel invited her.”

I felt my jaw drop, my lips forming a little O, as I tried to figure out what to make of this new information. He didn’t want her to come and Gabe invited her, so he brought her? All he had to do was say no.

“She seemed excited. I went along with it.”

“So you’re a coward.”

“Maybe. I figured we’d have some fun for a few days, say goodbye when it was over. Usually I don’t go for more than two nights, but Jules isn’t clingy.”

How many women had he spent no more than two nights with? Were they all as hot and grumpy as Jules was? Also, if Jules wanted to be here, why did she seem so put out at the cliffs today?

“I thought it’d be fine,” Jasper said.

“But it’s not?”

“I shouldn’t have brought her. Spending so much time with her emphasized that. We’re done.”

He broke things off with her during their trip. I didn’t know how to feel about that. “So you’re a player who gets bored easily.”

“I don’t need complication. I like my life as it is,” he said.

“I get that.” My life was about to get exceedingly more complicated, and it terrified me. The closer we got to my house, the less I actually wanted to go home to sit alone with my thoughts. “Hey. Your suitcase—is it still missing?”

“Yes.”

“Now that I’ve heard about how you broke poor Jules’s heart, the chances of it being her who disposed of it is even higher.”

“I didn’t break her heart. There are no feelings between us.”

“Except animosity. Jealousy. Heartbreak. Hatred!”

“No. Nothing. Nada.”

“Then it had to be the ghosts. Remember this morning when you passed me that note, and I circled yes?”

“Of course. But you’re sick. We need to get you⁠—”

“I’m feeling so much better. Watch.” I hopped off my board, ran out in front of him to give myself some space, then I did a cartwheel. A bit of bile rushed up my throat. I swallowed it back down and smiled. “See?”

“All you needed to cure your food allergy was fresh air?”

“Yep.”

“And now you’re prepared to go ghost and luggage hunting?”

“Totally.” I hopped back on my board and turned us down the path that led away from my bungalow, towards the abandoned resort. “How are you not totally freaking out right now? I’d be a mess if someone stole my bag.”

“They’re just clothes.”

“I’m passionately attached to my clothes,” I said.

Amusement flitted across Jasper’s features. When he smiled, he completely committed to it. His nose wrinkled. His just slightly crooked teeth flashed. It was the two front ones at the bottom that overlapped a hair because he hadn’t worn his retainer after his braces. The barely-there imperfection made him all the more charming.

“I’m serious,” I said. “There’s nothing in your bag that you consider irreplaceable? What about your passport? And your favorite shirt?”

“I have my passport. Shirts are shirts.”

“There’s really nothing you care about in your bag?”

“There’s an accessory I want back.”

He only cared about a belt or tie or something like that?

He smiled again, big and warm and mischievous. “But there’s no reason to worry. We’re going to find it, right?

It was impossible not to look into his crinkled forest-green eyes and not wholeheartedly want to dive headfirst into whatever trouble he was brewing. And there was no question he liked trouble.

And he worked with his hands and surfed with his free time. His muscles had muscles. Plus, his dad was a billionaire. So of course boatloads of women would gladly drop their panties for him. They probably took their two days of fun, then thanked him as he kicked them out the door.

I needed to come up with something to say, if only to get myself out of my head.

“It’s cool that your best friend and your brother are marrying a pair of best friends,” I said. “I bet it’ll make family events more fun.”

I knew he’d lived with his mom mostly growing up. His dad had ditched them when he’d met his third wife and had a new baby. All three of the Carrington brothers had different moms, so I never did get to know Oscar or Sebastian over the years.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Jasper said. “Everyone gets along well. Oscar and Gabriel sit together in silence, as is their way. Morgan and Layana talk enough to make up for it. And then there’s my younger brother Sebastian. He’s the life of the party. I could see him ending up like me for at least a few more years.”

“Womanizer?”

“Ouch.” Jasper put a hand over his chest, like I’d wounded him. “I was going to say content without commitment.”

I didn’t expect that to offend him. It was the story he’d told me about himself, basically. Maybe I should have chosen a kinder word for it. But then again, it bothered me.

It bothered me that he treated women like they weren’t important. Behind that handsome face and that practiced charm, he used them. His male role model, his father, had done the same, so it only made sense. He was old enough to own his behavior, no matter where it was learned.

“How is your dad about all of that? Does he give you high fives every time you bring some new hot babe to Thanksgiving?”

His smile fell.

The way his eyes dulled, it should have filled me with a sense of victory. It didn’t. I’d pushed too far, and instead of feeling pleased, I felt guilty. “Look, it’s your business who you bang. I shouldn’t judge. Sorry.”

“It’s not that.” He stopped walking.

I stopped too, and turned to face him. Frak. His face was completely serious. Jasper was never serious.

“My dad died.”

A wash of cold shock rushed over me. “Oh, Jasper, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. He passed in May.” Jasper started walking again, so I kept pace.

Had the accessory in his missing bag belonged to his dad? Was that why it was important to him?

He said, “Our relationship was complicated, but it’s still hard. If one good thing could come out of it, it’s that it’s brought Oscar, Sebastian, and me closer together.”

No matter how much a parent sucked, it sucked worse to lose them. Love was complicated like that.

“I had no idea,” I said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I guess I assumed Gabriel would have told you.”

I shook my head. Gabe hadn’t told me anything about Jasper over the years, at least nothing important. It was pretty much that way about all subjects. He offered short non-answers mostly, unless it was about his science stuff. Or now, about Layana, too.

“Oscar went missing after Dad died,” Jasper said.

Again, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. What was I supposed to say to that?

“Wow.” Losing his dad was already a lot, but then he’d had to suffer through his brother disappearing, too? I couldn’t imagine how stressful of a time that must have been for him. “Seems like you found him. What happened?”

“Amnesia. Morgan hit him in the head with a hammer.”

“Morgan Morgan? Like the sweetie pie who is Layana’s best friend?”

“Yes. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“How do you hit someone in the head with a hammer by accident?”

He raised a brow in challenge. “How do you hit someone in the head with a fork by accident?”

Oops. “Touché. At least I didn’t give you amnesia.”

“Thank you for that.”

“You’re very welcome.” As the path turned, towers of blackness loomed in the distance. I nodded toward them. “Looks like we’re here.”

“Ominous.”

“Ghostly.”

Jasper’s tone was gentle as he asked, “You sure you’re up for this?”

“Totally. Are you going to make me do another cartwheel to prove it?”

“Nope,” he said. “If you bailed, I was going to come back on my own.”

As we continued getting closer to the ruins, the sky seemed to dim, as if in warning.

“Is that so?” I asked.

“Absofuckinglutely. I need a fresh pair of underwear.”

“I can smell that,” I lied. Given my apparently overactive hormones, the last thing I needed to do was sniff him.

He laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“Totally. You’re disgusting.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, Bramble.”

“You have so much confidence, it’s unhealthy. I’m helping prevent your head from getting so bloated that it lifts you into space.”

What little light in the sky remained sparkled against his devilish smile. I rolled my eyes.

“Do you know anything about Stan’s secret stash?” Jasper asked.

Secret stash? “Is that a trick question?”

“No. Today I noticed he has a drawer in his desk filled with cookies.”

“The top drawer on his left?”

“That’s the one.”

“He keeps it locked. You need a key to open it.”

“Maybe he’s a diabetic,” Jasper said with a shrug and a side-glance that suggested that wasn’t at all what he was really thinking. “He could need them to keep his blood sugar even.”

“He’s not.” A small thrill zipped up my spine. “But maybe those cookies are the biscuits connected to the biscuit bandit.”

“I thought the same thing,” he said. “Stan snapped the drawer shut awfully quickly when he saw me looking.”

“Suspicious.”

He nodded. “Do you think he’s the bandit, or do you think he’s the victim?”

That was a great question. I thought back to everything I knew about Stan, to all of our interactions and to the times I’d watched him interacting with others.

“I’ve never seen him do anything suspicious,” I said. “Except sometimes he hides in the storage room and talks to himself. In Italian, I think. I have no idea what he’s saying.”

“He hides to eat the cookies without anyone seeing?”

“Maybe.”

We reached a tall metal fence with razor wire spiraled across the top of it. Even if we could have managed to climb up there, there was no way I was taking my chances with the razor wire.

I lifted one of the heavy locks binding the gate closed. They were the key kind, not the combination variety. A rusty metallic scent filled my nostrils. “If you can pick these locks, I’m seriously going to question what you do in your free time.”

“I can’t, and unfortunately, I left my bolt cutters in my other pants.”

“What a shame. There’s probably a ghost on the other side of this fence hiding in a bush wearing those pants right this minute.”

“Maybe we can lure him over to help us.” Jasper flipped a light on out of nowhere, causing blinding brightness and dark shadows to form all over his face.

It took me a second to realize it was his phone’s flashlight.

He cupped his other hand around his mouth, then turned the light toward the fence. “Ghosts, hey, give me back my pants!”

The volume of his voice made me jump. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Show yourselves, or are you too afraid?” he called.

“What would they be afraid of?”

“My overconfident, bloated head, probably. Or maybe it’s my smell.”

I laughed again.

The sound of rustling leaves sent a jolt of surprise through my chest. I went still and silent.

Jasper scanned the overgrown grounds with his flashlight. There, he found a jostling bush. It couldn’t be the wind. The air was still. Something was inside. Despite the fact that my brain knew there was zero chance a pants-stealing ghost could actually be in there, my heart rate quickened.

Under the unnatural light, the bush stilled.

Something smallish and wavy popped out of the branches and shot up into the air. It landed in the grass. I couldn’t see what it was, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t a creature, living or otherwise.

“What was that?” I asked, hoping Jasper had a better idea than I did.

“I recognize that pattern.” He flicked the light off and shoved the phone into his pocket. Then he started pulling on a corner of the metal fence.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Finding my way in.”

I threw my hands in the air and waited for more of an explanation. When he didn’t offer one, I followed him as he made his way down the fence shaking the whole thing violently.

“Aha!” He peeled back the wire, revealing a small opening where the fence was broken at the bottom. “Hold this for me?”

I grabbed onto the fence. “This is a bad idea. No way are you going to fit under there.”

“It’s not a bad idea. It’s an adventure. And I need those underpants.”

“What?” I pulled on the wire as he dropped to the ground and army crawled with his elbows under the fence. “You’re going to get tetanus.”

“I’ve had my shots.”

“The ghost is going to eat your face, and then what am I going to do? You expect me to climb in after you and try to punch him? My hand will go right through his head. He’s a ghost.”

Jasper rose to his feet on the other side and dusted himself off. “There’s no such thing, remember?”

Then he ran toward the bush.

I wasn’t sure why I was trying to talk him out of it. This whole thing had been at least half my idea. Maybe I just hadn’t expected him to be even more enthusiastic than I was. I scrambled to pull out my own phone and activate the flashlight.

“Rabies, then,” I called after him, as I finally caught up to him with my flashlight. “You’re going to get mauled by a seething mongoose.”

A dark shape darted from the bush and into the ruins. I didn’t catch what it was, but my heart shot up into my throat. “There. I saw something.”

I pointed into the darkness and tried to make sense of what I’d seen. It was something smallish, somewhere between the sizes of a monster rat and a small child. And it was fast.

Jasper turned the way I pointed and shrugged. “I missed it.”

I had no idea what it was. Maybe it was a scaredy mutant mongoose.

Jasper lifted something up off the ground, then turned and held it out for me to see. In his hands was a pair of underpants with some sort of colorful pattern on them. I squinted as he walked closer to me, a satisfied smile on his face.

We’d actually found clothes here. By the look on Jasper’s face, they were his clothes. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. What were the chances?

The pattern was gummy bears with surfboards. A chuckle bubbled up in my throat. “Those are your underpants?”

“My favorite pair. And all I had to do was scare the pants off a pants-stealing ghost to get them back.”

“How much rabies did you get?”

“No more than I can handle.”

I laughed, utterly bewildered by the fact that we’d actually found Jasper’s missing underpants.

“I can’t believe these were here,” Jasper said.

“It’s ridiculously unlikely,” I said. “Any chance the rest of your bag is behind the bush?”

“Nope.”

A ringing sounded. Jasper’s smile faded as he pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “It’s Gabriel.”

I frowned. “He’s probably checking in on me.”

“Probably.”

And just like that, our silly adventure and all of my pleasant distraction was over.

FIFTEEN

JASPER

Jules wasn’t in our room when I went to bed, but I still slept on the sofa. I woke with a sore neck and an aching lower back, and still no Jules. Even with the stiffness, I felt lighter than I had since leaving North Carolina. It seemed she really was content doing her own thing and leaving me to do mine. If we didn’t cross paths again until the plane ride home, that would suit me just fine.

With my bag still missing, I had to buy swim trunks and a few other necessities from a resort shop before the day’s outing. I met up with everyone as they were about to head out. But Esme wasn’t there.

A pang of worry twisted my gut. I’d witnessed her vomiting twice in two days. I’d been charged with helping her safely home last night, and I hadn’t done that until much later. What if that was a mistake, and despite her cartwheel and proclamation of being fine, she wasn’t? She’d definitely lied about what was going on last night at dinner. What if she had something more serious happening to her, and I’d made it worse?

“Where’s Esme?” I asked Gabriel as we loaded into the taxi. Layana slid in the middle between us. “Is she feeling all right this morning?”

Gabriel considered me a second before responding. “Esme’s fine. She’s meeting us there.”

Relieved, I deflated into my seat.

“Is there some reason she wouldn’t be?” Gabriel asked.

“No,” I said. “She seemed good when I walked her home last night.”

If something was wrong, she wouldn’t want to share with Gabriel and risk worrying him during his wedding week. But if she was meeting us at the beach, she was fine, right?

I had no reason to assume otherwise. I stared out the window and reminded myself I needed to clear my head and focus on what this week was all about—enjoying time with my best friend and celebrating his big life event.

“Today is snorkeling, right?” I asked.

“Yes. The water is supposed to be so clear that you can see over a hundred feet away,” Layana said.

“Where’s Jules?” Gabriel asked. “She’s not sick, is she?”

I tried not to bristle at the mention of her name.

“Doing her own thing. She’s fine. Looking forward to snorkeling?” I asked Layana, though it was clear that she was.

“Definitely. This might be the one thing that isn’t related to the actual wedding that I’ve been looking forward to most,” she said.

“Jasper’s an expert,” Gabriel said.

Layana squinted at me for confirmation.

“He used to go as a child,” Gabriel said.

“I’ve been a few times,” I said. “I’m not an expert.”

The memories were bittersweet. It was the one trip my father took with us every year, but he’d always chosen to stay back and work rather than spend time with Mom and me.

“Any advice?” Layana asked.

“Don’t dive down without holding your breath first. If your ears start to hurt, pinch your nose,” I said. “Most importantly, don’t touch anything.”

“The reef is a fragile ecosystem,” Gabriel said.

“Do you think we’ll see any sharks?” Layana asked, with a curious tone rather than a nervous one.

“It’s certainly possible,” I said.

“The most likely species for us to encounter include nurse sharks and reef sharks. We’ll remain in groups, you’ll wear your gloves to cover your ring, and we’ll keep our distance,” Gabriel said.

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t forget I need to wear protection,” Layana said with a grin.

I chuckled.

“Shiny objects can lure sharks due to their resemblance to fish scales,” Gabriel said.

“I promise to wear the gloves.” She patted his thigh.

We arrived at a different beach than we’d been to before. The sun glinted off turquoise water and white sand with blinding brightness.

But a short distance away, huge black rocks jutted out of the water. They reminded me of the knobby vertebrae of an ancient, slumbering monster. Esme would have something to say about it, probably a ridiculous fake history of the monster’s defeat that would make me laugh and make Gabriel frown.

Our ragtag group gathered by the shore and began putting on their masks, fins, and snorkels. I dropped my shirt, flip flops, and towel on the sand and prepped my own gear.

I kept my attention on my task, and not on searching the small crowd to see if Esme had arrived yet. After insisting on walking her home last night, then asking about her this morning, I didn’t need Gabriel thinking I was overly interested in his little sister.

A hearty and unrestrained laugh gave me my answer. No question she was here. No one else used their whole body to laugh like that, and no one else would be so loud. The sound prickled from my ears through my throat. What could possibly be so amusing?

Then a man jogged into the shallow edge of the water. Even with his head turned away, I immediately recognized the musician’s tall, thin frame and dreadlocks.

Ziggy had made Esme laugh wholeheartedly. Even though they weren’t dating, he looked at her like he wished they were. And I still hadn’t found out what kind of caramel was her favorite. Something local, I assumed. I didn’t want to care, but for some reason, not knowing bothered me.

Why was he here? Had Esme invited him?

“Good morning, to those of you who are just arriving.” Ziggy turned toward the group, waved his hands, and flashed a smile as blinding as the sun. “Ready for some fun, party people?”

A few cheers came from down the shore where Layana’s sisters were standing.

Realization hit me like a crab claw to the back of the ankle.

Ziggy was the snorkeling instructor.

I felt my muscles tense even though there was no reason for it.

Ziggy demonstrated how to properly put on fins, snorkel, and flotation vest.

“Remember to breathe normally through your snorkel. Don’t hold your breath,” he said. “When you bite down on the mouthpiece, make sure it's snug. You don't want to be tasting seawater for the next week.”

A chuckle rippled across the group, as if that was somehow a hilarious joke.

“We’ll start by practicing this first step,” Ziggy said as he gestured for everyone to follow him into the water.

The ocean was my happy place. All I needed to do to reclaim my chill was focus on the sensations that always calmed me—the heat of the sun on my skin, the crisp scent of salt blowing through the air, and the rhythmic sounds unique to the sea.

I waded into the bath-warm water, relishing the weightlessness I felt as we left the shore behind. I tried to focus on being present, and on staying near Gabriel since he was the whole reason I was here.

“You ready for this?” Layana asked Gabriel.

“With clear instruction and proper safety, I’m sure it will be fine,” he said.

“No. It won’t be fine,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. “It’ll be epic.”

Everyone followed Ziggy’s instruction to float face down to try out the gear. I went along with it, like a blade of seaweed riding the current.

A school of electric blue and yellow tangs darted between my legs. Their cool scales brushed against my skin. I could be present and enjoy this outing. I could⁠—

Again, Esme laughed. Again, I bristled.

This time it was more of a chuckle of amusement than a reaction to something she’d found all out hilarious. But the effect was equally as distracting.

I tried not to think about the fact that Esme was very likely in the water beside Ziggy, messing around instead of following directions. It took more effort than I’d care to admit not to look at her.

“And, everyone up,” Ziggy called as he swam out ahead of the group. “You’re all naturals. A-plus form.”

That seemed unlikely.

“Kick with your fins from your hips, not your knees.” Ziggy demonstrated the move with the grace of a mermaid. “Think of it as gliding, not cycling. And most importantly, keep your movements smooth to conserve energy and not scare away the marine life. Also, be sure you aren't kicking up sand that could damage the reef. Everyone ready?”

“Yes!” Layana called.

More enthusiastic answers followed. Gabriel offered a curt nod in response.

“Now we're going to swim out in a group. I'll point out some cool sights but please do not touch anything."

We kicked off, following Ziggy over the shallow sandy bottom.

The reef gradually came into view below me, a kaleidoscope of color and texture. Spiny sea urchins clung to the coral, while angelic trumpetfish drifted above them with fins lazily waving in the current.

I wouldn’t think about the past, or about how snorkeling reminded me of the father who had never been present for me.

I was completely content to hang out with Gabriel. I was completely content that Ziggy the musician was our guide, because he seemed to be doing an adequate job, and he hadn’t actually given me any good reason not to like him yet. I was completely content not interacting with Esme.

I was a blade of seaweed.

Ziggy gestured too enthusiastically, pointing like he was trying to jab someone’s eye out. A small turtle lazily flapped its flippers as it glided by, effortlessly manifesting the level of chill I was striving for.

We followed his lead and surfaced.

“Green sea turtles are endangered, so we’re exceptionally fortunate to spot one today,” he said.

We went back down under the water.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimmer of orange. Heat rose up the back of my neck. My muscles stiffened. It was her.

Unable to ignore her any longer, I lifted my face from the water once more, and spotted Esme. Her long hair floated around her like a lion’s mane. A smattering of freckles decorated her pale shoulders.

She glided effortlessly through the water, pausing to inspect the reef. She tilted her head toward a small hole carved into the coral like she’d found something interesting inside.

When she looked back up, she caught my eye and gave a little wave before continuing on.

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that that was the extent of our interaction. Maybe both.

“Angelfish are very territorial, so they might give you a little nip if you get too close,” Ziggy said, but Esme had completely captured my attention and his words felt hollow and distant.

I dropped back down under the water and watched her swim.

Her fluorescent pink two-piece swimsuit left little to the imagination, tracing the contours of her body. I tried not to stare. I tried not to notice.

It was impossible not to appreciate the curve of her small breasts or the slight flare of her hips or the expanse of bare flesh in between, even though I had no right. How many freckles did she have on her stomach? Her thighs? I wanted to map them like the stars, tracing a finger from one to the next. Would she gasp when I touched her, sear me with her dark eyes, or part her lips and lean into my hand?

I couldn’t not stare at her. My only option was to lift my head out of the water and close my eyes.

“Everyone can spread out a bit, but remember if you lose sight of the group, we return to our spot on the beach,” Ziggy said. “And for safety, we always adhere to the buddy system.”

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I opened my eyes and turned. Esme’s head was out of the water, her sunset hair hanging flat against the sides of her face.

“Come on, buddy,” she said. “Let’s make this interesting.”

“You don’t find snorkeling interesting?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know she was trying to bait me.

“I’m just saying it could be more interesting.”

I should shut this down right here and now. Even with her face obscured by a mask and snorkel, I could see a glint of mischief in her eyes. I flexed my fingers and ignored the warning siren going off in the back of my head. “How so?”

“A little competition, obviously. I’m going to find more lionfish than you.”

Before I could respond, she ducked her head back under and kicked away.

With a single sentence, she’d transported me over a decade into the past, to when she used to turn everything into a competition. I’d always hated it when we were kids. I always preferred being on the same team, after the same goals, instead of constantly butting heads. But we weren’t kids anymore.

This was the first time she’d started a competition with me since I arrived on the island. It surprised me to realize that after dreading this exact thing, I didn’t feel tense or upset. I was intrigued.

I took off after her. A warm sensation bubbled up from the pit of my stomach and spread through my chest like a gentle tide. I scanned the reef below for any sign of lionfish, but my attention was split, following the wild twists and turns Esme took in the water.

Like everything else she did, Esme swam in the most over-the-top way possible. She somehow made flailing look graceful, and ridiculously adorable.

I tried to focus on her game. The bold stripes and spiky fins of the lionfish made them easy to spot. I kept a mental tally.

Suddenly, Esme shot up to the surface. I followed.

Cold air prickled the hair on the back of my neck. I breathed and stared at her, caught in her spell.

The stakes of this silly competition for her were Olympic-level. I could feel it all around us. What would she do if I lied and told her I’d seen more than she had? Would she wrestle me here in the water?

“On three, show me with your fingers how many you saw. Same time so I know you’re not cheating.”

“You think I’d cheat?”

“On three.”

Her intensity made my chest feel tight.

“One. Two.” She waited until she saw me complying before saying, “Three.”

She held up eight fingers. I held up five.

Her eyes crinkled triumphantly behind her mask. “It’s like you’re not even trying, Graffiti Surfer Ken.”

She was right. If I was smart, I’d blow her off and swim back toward the group to find Gabriel. If I was smart, I wouldn’t let myself get drawn into the blackhole that was Esme’s orbit.

Once I was close, it was impossible to break free. But the ache in my chest and the thrill pumping through my veins made it clear I’d already missed my window.

“Best two out of three,” I said, despite myself.

“You're on,” she called back, already swimming away. “Most colorful fish. Go.”

We both scoured the reef, trying to spot the gaudiest creature. This time I was completely swept up in the game. I was all in.

Esme navigated the reef searching for a time before pointing out a pastel rainbow parrotfish.

I shook my head at her choice.

She gestured with her hands and glared, daring me to do better.

But I already had. I circled back to an area she’d overlooked. And I pointed to the vibrant wrasse that she had zero chance of besting. The neon red, orange, and violet scales were unquestionably the brightest.

She emerged to the surface first, likely to try and proclaim herself the victor, when I had clearly won this round.

I popped up beside her. We were surrounded by jutting rocks, with the sounds of our group fading to a distant murmur. It felt like a different world, like there was only Esme and me and the strange energy sparking in the air between us.

“I won.” Esme pulled her mask up onto her forehead.

The stubborn set to her jaw and the intensity in her eyes made my heart ache and my throat thick.

It took me a moment before I responded. “No chance.”

Later I’d try to explain all of this away, I was sure. When there was distance between us, it would be easy to rationalize this strange draw as a fluke. But with only inches between us, the moment felt never-ending and the past and the future felt like different lives.

Water dripped down her face, over the freckles on her nose, down her cheeks and her neck.

“The yellow and blue on your fish were bright, sure,” I said. “But you said colorful, and my fish had more colors.”

“I’m the master of the ocean,” she said, as if that was somehow a real argument.

She always had to be the master of everything, or queen, emperor, or conqueror, depending on the situation.

“Admit it,” she said, moving closer.

There was only a tiny bit of space left between us. I kept my arms pinned to my sides. I needed to pull back. My hands were shaking. I needed to move away from her before I did something I’d regret like allowing her to wrestle me in the water to win my submission.

“Admit that I’m the ocean scavenger hunt queen.” She pressed her hand to my chest, and gave a small push.

It was probably meant to be playful. It was probably supposed to be meaningless.

But the contact short-circuited my brain, and I found my fingers threading through her hair. I lost all sense of logic or reason as I stole that teasing smile right off her face with a bruising kiss.

SIXTEEN

ESME

If you didn’t count sloppy slobbers from friendly pups or scratchy pecks from a particularly affectionate uncle, which for the record I did not, I could count the number of guys who had ever kissed me on one hand.

But my very first kiss had been with my best friend at the time, one Jasper Carrington.

I’d been six years old. Throughout the entire school year, Jackie Lowell had relentlessly taunted me that I was going to marry Jasper. And at the time, she’d really seemed like she knew the ways of the world. She had the most awesome sparkle pink jelly shoes anyone had ever seen. And the biggest check for her coolness factor—she’d already kissed three boys.

Later, I learned this was a lie. She’d kissed two boys, and had made them do it through unsavory means. She’d blackmailed Xander into it after catching him shove an extra brownie into his pocket in the lunch line when he thought no one was looking. I didn’t get the whole story about what she did to Blake, but it wasn’t any better.

She’d told me that kissing boys was the best. Better than chocolate. Better than birthday cake. Better than caramel.

Misinterpreting her bravado for wisdom, I’d listened to her.

And after school, I’d talked myself up.

If it was better than caramel, I needed to experience it.

So I’d sat in the field of thorn bushes watching for the boy next door. Every day after school, Jasper and Gabe got off the bus together and walked past the field to our house for some of Oma’s lemonade and cookies.

This day, Gabe wasn’t at school, so I knew Jasper would be alone.

So I waited.

And when he was close enough, I pounced.

He tripped.

We went down. The metallic taste of blood coated my mouth as I bit my tongue. Then I kissed him.

It would have been easy to play it off like an accident when our faces smashed together and our teeth clashed. But brazen little me did nothing of the sort.

Twelve-year-old Jasper stared up at me, wide-eyed and mortified. “You kissed me,” he’d said in the same way someone would say you kicked out all my teeth.

But I was so stuck on my own disappointment I hardly registered his reaction.

Jackie Lowell had been way wrong.

“Ugh,” I’d said. “Overrated.”

Kissing sucked.

My opinion didn’t change all that much through the years, though I was always eager to be proven wrong.

But as childish daydreams of the past flitted through my head, I finally got exactly what I’d wanted all those years ago.

No fantasy of what could be or how it was supposed to go compared to the reality smacking me in the lips.

Jasper’s hands held my cheeks softly, reverently, as his mouth assaulted mine in the most delicious way.

I was shocked, stunned, and entirely enthralled.

His lips masterfully commanded mine, sending tendrils of anticipation down my limbs. My nipples perked to alert, gently brushing against his bare chest with only the thin fabric of my bikini top between us.

Fireworks went off in my lips, my fingertips, my toes. I could feel the explosive heat all the way in the ends of my hair.

What was this weird alternate reality bubble we floated in? It should have been the easiest thing in the world to shove Jasper away. But I was a ragged mess. And he felt good. I couldn’t help but cling to a lifeline in the hurricane my life had become these past few days.

It didn’t have to make sense. It didn’t have to mean anything.

I wanted more. I wanted his touch as rough as his kiss. I wanted him to forget that I was Bramble, the little girl who rushed headfirst into the sticker bushes just to prove she could.

He traced my jaw with his thumbs and slowly lowered his palms down my neck. My skin burned everywhere he touched, maybe because together we’d always been a volcano, biding our time before we inevitably erupted and destroyed everything in our path.

But I couldn’t seem to make myself care. I needed this, whatever it was that we were doing. It was a distraction, a wildfire, a natural disaster, and I couldn’t help but run headfirst into the flames.

His tongue breached my lips, claiming me more deeply.

I’d never been more turned on or more lost. I felt like a different person, a desperate husk without even a thread of self-control left. I grabbed onto his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my hot core against his rock-hard abs.

A few slips of fabric and we’d be naked.

A few thrusts and I’d explode.

An excited shriek ripped through the air, penetrating our tiny bubble of insanity. Half a beat passed where we clung to each other without moving, without breathing.

Then realizing exactly what a horrible mistake he’d made, Jasper retreated, stealing his mouth away from mine just as quickly as he’d lent it.

My body was fire, my insides pools of molten desire. I could still feel the branding sear of his kiss, even though it was clearly over.

My brain turned to ice—cold, numb, confused.

Jasper’s lips were red. His emerald eyes clouded with regret. He drew his brows together.

This was bad. This was really, really bad.

The noise wasn’t even from nearby. Whoever had shrieked had been well out of sight. It didn’t matter. There was no going back.

I shoved Jasper’s stupid tattooed chest and hissed. “You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

“I did not.” My voice was quickly rising, panic taking over as the predominant sense. Fight or flight had always been an easy choice for me—fight, every single time.

How dare he pretend this had been as much my fault as his.

He kissed me.

“That might be a little more convincing if you weren’t still clinging to me, Bramble.”

“I’m not….”

He looked down. I looked down between us, where my hormone-wracked, betraying hips were currently grinding against his abs. Ohmygoodness, I was not going to survive this week.

It was the pregnancy’s fault. I was going to get myself double pregnant by humping the nearest dick until it happened.

And why did the nearest dick have to be his? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else’s? Why not some random tourist I’d never have to see again instead of my brother’s best friend?

He was Jasper. Worse, he was Jasper with a freaking date staying with him in his bed. Whatever wishy-washy excuse he wanted to make for his actions, I wouldn't be the kind of woman who went along with it. And, this could not be overstated—he was Jasper.

And I was pregnant.

There was no way this was anything but a trash fire of an idea—his idea.

“Esme?” The voice belonged to Gabe.

I shoved Jasper as hard as I could, completely dislodging myself from him. The water felt cold all of a sudden and a shiver carried over my skin.

Shame, disgust, horror—all three were good choices to describe the feelings muddled up inside of me. I expected to see the same feelings on Jasper’s face. But his expression was cool and calm, like that kiss hadn’t affected him at all.

“Jasper?” Gabe’s voice grew closer. “You two over here?”

I glared at Jasper. I wanted to twist his nipple and scream at him and make him apologize. While also a teeny tiny treacherous part of me kind of wanted to kiss him again because apparently I was nothing if not self-destructive.

Jasper’s eyes softened. He wanted to say something. I didn’t know if I could handle whatever it was. I didn’t know how to feel.

Jasper reached a hand closer then pulled it back. “Es⁠—”

Gabe rounded one of the monster-sized lava rocks sticking out of the sea. “I thought I heard your voices.” He looked from me to Jasper, and back again. “Everything all right?”

I hugged myself against the prickling cold spreading over my skin. “Peachy.”

“Ziggy found a particularly interesting brain coral. You should see,” Gabe said.

“I can’t wait,” I said.

Whatever it was I was feeling, I didn’t like it. I couldn’t swim away from Jasper fast enough.

SEVENTEEN

JASPER

One lapse in judgment could cost me my most important relationship. There was only one woman on the planet who was off-limits, one person I needed to keep my hands off of. And I’d kissed her.

How could I have been so stupid?

First my legs turned to lead in the water. The heaviness spread up into my stomach, turning my guts to stone. My heart pounded erratically, each beat a drum of confusion and regret.

As I watched Esme swim back toward the group, I was trapped, weighted in place. My best friend’s attention lingered on me. I could feel the sharpness of his assessment like a rusty screw digging into my forehead.

My expression betrayed nothing. I knew this, because it was the easiest thing to slip on a mask of contentment. It was second nature, even more so when the world around me crumbled to pieces.

Gabriel’s expression sharpened. “What did you do?”

I kissed your sister. I could still taste her strawberry lip gloss on my tongue. The heat of her left my nerves buzzing, no matter how wrong I knew that was.

“What do you mean?” I said, my tone light. Pretending was something I’d practiced my entire life, but never with Gabriel. He was the one person I’d always told the truth to. He’d made it easy from the first time we’d met.

“Esme’s expression was tight. I heard you arguing.” A line formed between his brows. “What happened?”

“Everything’s fine,” I said, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. If only I could turn back time, take back my mistake.

“Jasper.” He said my name with concern, even a touch of frustration.

I needed to fix it. “I bumped my head into hers. It was an accident.”

The lie burned like acid in my throat, and worse in my heart. If the ocean ate me alive, I’d deserve it.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Putting a positive spin on disasters was an important life skill.

Somehow, these self-reassurances didn’t make me feel any better.

I’d just lied to my best friend. Apparently I was on a bender of self-destruction today.

Something was seriously wrong with me. Maybe I was wrong about Jules being gone all night. Maybe she had sneaked in, bashed me on the head with a lamp, and knocked a few screws loose before disappearing into the night once more.

Gabriel’s expression softened. He clapped my shoulder. “She’ll get over it.”

I nodded and followed Gabriel back toward the group.

It didn’t matter how soft Esme’s cheeks felt in my palms. It didn’t matter that kissing her made me feel more alive than I’d ever felt. It didn’t matter how ferociously she’d kissed me back, how hard she’d clung to me in the water.

None of it could mean anything.

Nothing could ever happen with Esme. Nothing else, at least.

Esme would get over it.

Was that what I wanted? Did I want her to get over our kiss, like it meant nothing? Could I?

The right thing to do was apologize to her. I needed to fix my mistake.

I swam through the group, trying to get closer to her. But for every foot I swam in her direction, she swam two feet away, putting more bodies between us.

Finally she sidled up to Ziggy, and every time I tried to catch her eye, she averted her gaze.

I’d fucked up so badly, she refused to look at me. That hit hard. But I couldn’t blame her.

I gave up on pursuing her for the rest of the expedition, taking her lead and pretending everything was fine, like my entire world hadn’t just been thrown upside down, like I could stop imagining what would have happened if Gabriel hadn’t interrupted.

I’d been this close to pulling the triangles of her bikini to the side and touching the small, pebbled nipples that she’d pressed against my chest. I’d been this close to pushing just how far over the line she’d let me take her.

I had to forget about all of it.

I had to pretend it didn’t happen.

Eventually Ziggy led the group back to the shore. I followed along, leaving Esme alone. I participated in meaningless conversations with people I barely knew, but it was difficult to listen. It wasn’t any easier to focus on what Gabriel or Oscar said, either.

I needed a few shots of tequila, a few hours on a surfboard, and a night of dreamless sleep. Then tomorrow, maybe I’d have my shit together. Maybe tomorrow I could be the friend I needed to be, the friend that I should have been today.

When we returned to the resort, I spotted Esme talking to Gabriel. She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb, and turned her head like she was about to go.

Was she skipping out on the evening because of me? I hoped not.

I flexed my hands in the still-damp pockets of my trunks and forced myself to look away. The last thing I should do is insert myself in their conversation. I turned my back to them, joining the small circle of people chatting there.

Morgan leaned into Oscar’s side. She said, “I’m pretty sure we burned enough calories for two days on the water.”

He wrapped his arm around her and looked down adoringly. Before Morgan, I wasn’t sure Oscar could do anything “adoringly.” Ever since he was a kid, he more typically scowled, even at puppies.

Juno said, “Does that mean you’re ready for a break?”

Morgan nodded.

“We can all take a break, meet back up for dinner?” Layana said.

“Sounds great,” Morgan told her. “I’m taking a nap.”

“I’m taking all the time I can to soak up the sun. It’s the beach for me,” Juno said.

I noted then that Chester, who was typically attached to Juno’s side, wasn’t anywhere around. And now that I was thinking about it, I wasn’t sure I’d seen him all day.

Layana’s sisters went with Juno. I declined their invitation to join them.

Oscar offered a nod before throwing Morgan over his shoulder like a caveman. She squealed and laughed as they headed inside. I stared in that direction even after the door shut, my mind flitting back to Esme.

That could never be the two of us. If I flipped her over my shoulder, held tight to her thighs and swatted her ass, she wouldn’t laugh. She’d hiss, punch me in the back, and twist around to bite my neck.

“Jasper?” Layana blinked at me. Apparently she was still here, and she’d been saying something. “Are you all right?”

I had to stop thinking about Esme.

“I’m good.” I smiled with all the warmth I could muster and tried to clear my head.

Gabriel stealthily slipped in beside Layana. “We’re going to get a drink. You should join us, Jasper.”

After the way we’d left things, I really wanted to chase down Esme and offer her a proper apology. But bonding with Gabriel was the reason I was here. And the best way to not think about kissing Esme was to stay away from Esme.

“Please,” he said.

“Of course.” How could I say no to that? He hardly ever asked me for anything.

We went up to the roof, ordered drinks, and sat at a table overlooking the ocean. It was a stellar view.

“How’s the blog going?” I asked Layana.

“I’m pleased to say Confessions of a Serial Mood Killer is going strong. I’ve been posting almost regularly, which is huge for me.”

“Congratulations,” I said. That blog had almost torn the couple apart not so long ago, when Layana’s innermost thoughts had been posted without her permission. “Have there been any further issues with the data breach?”

“Gabriel upped my security for me,” she said with a big smile. “All is well.”

“That’s great.”

“Did he tell you I’m writing a book about all of it?”

“No.” I flicked my gaze to Gabriel. His face was impassive, relaxed. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem concerned about his private life being published for the world to see.

“I have approval rights,” he said.

“Ah.”

“Yeah, I want him one-hundred-percent comfortable with everything,” Layana said. “I’d like your approval, too, Jasper, once it’s done.”

“Mine?” Why?

Layana tipped back her glass and flipped her long black hair over her shoulder. “Well you’re in there, obviously, since you’re Gabriel’s best friend and a key witness to our story.”

“All right. I look forward to reading it,” I said. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being written about in a book. The tabloids had certainly written more than their share about me over the years. This was different though, of course.

“She captures you in a positive light. No need to worry,” Gabriel said.

“Good to know.” I nodded. “This is actually a brilliant idea.”

“I didn’t expect such wholehearted approval before you read it, but I’ll take it, and you can’t change your mind.” Layana chuckled. “No take-backs.”

“People like us don’t usually get our stories told by someone both qualified and close to us. Have you considered if all goes well with your book, branching out?”

“Like become the billionaire biographer of Epiphany?” Layana asked.

“Exactly,” I said.

“You’d be spectacular,” Gabriel said.

“I hadn’t considered it, but I don’t know. Could be fun,” Layana said. “Are you volunteering to be my next subject?”

I shook my head. “There’s not much to share. Oscar, on the other hand⁠—”

“Not much to share?” Gabriel leaned forward and knitted his brows together. “Plenty of people would be interested to read about the greatest home restorer in Epiphany.”

“Don’t forget eligible billionaire,” Layana said.

“While I find restoration titillating, I don’t think it would be nearly as entertaining for others to read about.”

“People love that stuff,” Layana said. “There are tons of shows about it. Magazines. And as I said, eligible billionaire. Women would buy it just to find out how to win a chance with you.”

I shrugged. “If you’re still interested when you’re ready to write, I’d be happy to talk out details.”

I still couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to read a book about me, though. An unpleasant thought occurred to me then.

I asked, “What about jilted exes?”

“Do you have jilted exes?” Layana asked.

“Every woman I’ve seen you with seems perfectly happy,” Gabriel said.

“I keep them happy, sure, then I move on. Not everyone likes that, even when I make the terms clear up front,” I said. “I wouldn’t say I have jilted exes exactly, but given the opportunity, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone would step forward anyway and pretend our relationship was more serious than it was.”

There were more than a few women who may describe me as a womanizer, just like Esme had. I had never thought of myself that way. I always made my intentions clear. But her voice repeated in my head now, proving that I had no control as to how I was perceived.

“Sure, there are always going to be haters and grifters trying to make a buck off of anyone in the spotlight,” Layana said. “But you aren’t actually cheating or dumping people in nasty ways, right?”

“Never.”

“Then you’re probably good.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder. “No secret babies, either?”

I choked on my drink.

“If they were a secret, he wouldn’t know,” Gabriel said.

“I always use protection,” I said. Even that one night when I’d fallen so hard and so fast for a complete stranger that I’d almost started believing in fairy tales, we’d used a condom.

I’d dreamed about my mystery woman in the months since, but the more time that passed, the less that night felt real.

“Best not to be surprised with an itch or discharge or two-year-old popping up out of the blue who looks just like you,” Layana said.

That was one way of putting it.

“No secret babies,” I said, my voice rough.

“Great,” Layana said.

I turned the conversation to Gabriel and the new business deal he’d secured. If there was a surefire way to take the attention off of me, it was to get Gabriel talking about his bioengineered eukaryotic organisms.

I didn’t understand half the words that came out of his mouth when he got on a roll about his work, but I admired his enthusiasm and his commitment to making the world a better place.

We chatted about families after that—my brothers, Layana’s parents who couldn’t make the trip, how Gabriel’s uncle and driver was hoping to make more ridiculous upgrades to the SUV he rarely drove Gabriel around in. We discussed the plan to video chat with both Layana’s parents and Gabriel’s oma during the service so they could watch. We chatted about nothing, which might have been my favorite part.

Then, eventually, we went to dinner.

And Esme wasn’t there.

I debated asking Gabriel what she was up to, but decided against it. Instead, I ate and waited for a good opportunity to excuse myself. Then I walked to Esme’s house.

With every step, my legs felt heavier. Mock conversations flitted through my brain. In every one, I apologized, she yelled, and I wished I could take back the morning. I wished I’d never kissed her.

I reached her porch and hesitated with my fist in the air, an inch from knocking.

Could we pretend it never happened? I hoped so.

Everything would go back to normal once I apologized, swore I’d never touch her again, and we agreed to pretend that kiss never happened.

I knocked.

The door creaked as it inched open.

“Esme?” I called out into the dark house.

I flicked the switch by the door, lighting the living room. It was an airy space, cleaner than I would expect from her. She’d always been the type to leave a pile of clothes on her bedroom floor and candy trash on her nightstand.

“Esme, are you here?”

She still didn’t answer. The house was completely quiet besides the soft sounds of the ocean.

I felt like I shouldn’t be here since she didn’t seem to be home. Except if she was, and something was wrong, I’d never forgive myself for leaving without helping her. She’d been sick. She was hiding something. The right move was to find her, make sure she was okay, and apologize. Then I could leave.

At the kitchen counter, I noticed white plastic sticks stacked like a Jenga tower.

Curious, I lifted one from the top of the pile.

The tower came tumbling down.

I realized what I was holding.

It was a pregnancy test.

My mind whirled like leaves caught in a tornado. I was an uninvited guest, stepping headfirst into a brand-new disaster.

If Esme had been pissed at me before, she was about to be livid.

I had no right to see this. It was none of my business. But it was too late to walk away, not when I’d already seen the results.

Positive.

EIGHTEEN

ESME

One more day until the wedding rehearsal. Three days until the wedding. That was a perfectly nice amount of time to spend with my brother and future sister-in-law, a perfectly reasonable amount of time to put off dealing with my own life, and a perfectly miserable amount of time to be stuck with Jasper.

Yesterday, he’d kissed me. Worse, I’d kissed him back. Worst of all, I’d wanted to do more than kiss him.

In an unexplainable moment of insanity, I’d attached myself to him like he was a pickup truck careening down the highway going ninety, and I was a sticky little anole whose life depended on my ability not to get dislodged. And then I’d gyrated my lizard hips on top of his hood.

Oh my. No. No, brain. Just no.

Then of course after the scuba trip, I’d thought about that kiss all night at work. The flare of his nostrils, the intensity in his emerald eyes sharp enough to cut, the fervor with which he devoured my mouth.

But that was yesterday. So fresh day, fresh start, right?

Now, we were spending a sunny afternoon exploring the market as a group. I was completely prepared to not think about Jasper at all. He didn’t seem to care, though, because I could feel him staring at me.

It was like an insistent poke to the ribs, each glance startling and requiring serious reaction suppression. Instinct required checking when attention was sent your way, for self-preservation reasons. If a lion was hiding in the brush about to pounce, that tingle in the back of the gazelle’s head was the only warning she was going to get before that predator ripped her intestines out.

Jasper wasn’t a lion. He also wasn’t what I’d caught his brother Oscar calling him a little earlier when I was totally minding my own business—a golden retriever. He was more like one of the largest domestic cats, a Maine Coon.

Why a Maine Coon? First, he was gorgeous. That was one of those undeniable facts of life that couldn’t be questioned no matter how inconvenient it was, like scratchy sand making its way into bathing suits.

But also like a Maine Coon, he was mostly tame and safe. And behind his placating smiles and his need not to make waves, he sometimes couldn’t help but get himself into trouble.

And I could still feel him looking at me. This was exactly why I hadn’t come to breakfast this morning…well, this, and the unwanted attention and the barfing.

Despite my best efforts to ignore him, Jasper slipped up beside me. Maybe that was my own fault for not looking at him. I’d allowed him to sneak past my defenses.

Without wanting to, I caught a whiff of him—saltwater, freshly-washed linen, familiarity with a bite of danger. Apparently it was like my catnip, because I closed my eyes and found my betraying body taking in another deep breath.

It lingered in my lungs. He lingered by my side and leaned in closer.

I tried not to flinch away. I tried not to lean into him.

“I didn’t see you at breakfast,” he whispered, like it was some kind of secret.

He had no right to smell so good, or make those resort store clothes look so good, either. Without his suitcase, he should have been stuck wearing an ill-fitted t-shirt with a cartoon palm tree on it. Instead, he’d found a shirt that he left too far open at the top. The fabric was an aquamarine shade that made his already stupid pretty eyes pop like sunrise on the Caribbean.

“I didn’t see you at dinner last night, either,” he said, even more softly.

His breath tickled across my shoulder. My entire body both bristled and swooned. The swooning was entirely unwelcome and entirely hormonal. Nothing more.

He ran his fingers across the top of one of the clothes racks. Slow, soft.

Do not imagine what that would feel like on your shoulder. Or your collar bone. Or across your bare stomach.

My breath came sharp and shallow. I held it so I wouldn’t get caught panting like a dog in a desert, then I swerved through two of the stalls toward other people. Surely Jasper wouldn’t bother me if there were witnesses who could overhear him.

Except he followed. “Where’d you go yesterday after snorkeling?”

“None of your business,” I hissed.

I heard him sigh as I sidled up to Morgan, who was busy chatting with Juno. The pair were flipping over crystals at one of the stalls.

I could feel him running his hand through his too-long hair in exasperation even though I couldn’t see him. Good. Let him get so frustrated he gives up and moves on to bother someone else. Like the woman he brought to the island as his date.

Frak. I’d forgotten about Jules.

I didn’t need another reason to keep my distance from Jasper, but if I had, that would be it.

“Which one is supposed to mean good luck in relationships?” Morgan asked Norma, who was running sales.

Norma twisted one of her long gray curls behind her ear and leaned in conspiratorially. “Are you looking to attract a man, or looking to keep him?”

“Oh I’m already keeping him,” Morgan said with a bright smile. “I’m thinking more something for luck, like good tidings for the wedding and our first year of marriage.”

A set of rough fingers gently encircled my wrist. I didn’t have to look to know those fingers belonged to Jasper.

He whispered into my ear, “Bramble.”

I didn’t catch what Norma said. I was too distracted by the pleasant warmth soaking into my skin and slowly lighting up the nerves in my arm, by the tickle of Jasper’s breath on my neck and the cool sensation and prickle that followed.

Of course he had to go and call me Bramble again. He was doing it to rile me. I’d always hated it, and now more than ever, I didn’t need to be reminded of how reckless I used to be.

I’d grown up since I was Bramble. I was trying to make good decisions, which meant ignoring that gigantic, tattooed, bronzed bad decision.

“I’ll take two,” Morgan said. “One for my bestie who is getting married on Thursday, and one for me.”

Again I missed the next words that were exchanged. Juno said something, and so did Norma and Morgan.

But all I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. Awareness spread all over my skin. Everywhere he’d touched when I’d pressed against him in the water burned for his touch once more. Everywhere he hadn’t touched burned hotter.

I ripped my arm out of Jasper’s grasp like he’d seared me.

“A friend of mine does card and crystal ball readings not too far from here,” I said a little too loud and a little too fast. “If you guys want to check that out next.”

“I’m in,” Juno said.

“Me, too,” Morgan agreed.

I walked calmly down the rest of the street with Morgan and Juno at my sides. We turned the corner and stopped at a tiny open-air shop on the right. It was more tent than storefront, with the perfect vibes for a fortune teller on the beach. Sage had this whole thing nailed.

We stepped through the open front curtains and found Sage sitting at a small table. An ethereal glow surrounded her, enhanced by sparkles all around the room. Velvety fabrics were draped everywhere, and honestly, I should have come for a real reading sooner because this was awesome.

So far, she’d read my aura at the bar, but most of our fun came from her unsolicited readings of the patrons.

She rose up from her seat and reached across the table for me. “Esme!”

I took her hands, and she kissed both my cheeks, scratching my temple with the corner of her huge glasses.

“Hi, Sage, I brought customers,” I said.

“Since you’re with my good friend, I’ll give you a discount,” Sage said, “and I’ll only call the good spirits.”

Juno went a little pale.

“What do you do for most people?” Morgan asked.

“A little of this, a little of that,” Sage said, with a wave of her hand. “Come, sit.”

Morgan took a seat across from Sage. There was another chair, but Juno eyed it like it might come to life and trap her in its grasp.

“You need the ball,” Sage told Morgan.

“That’s what he said,” I whispered.

Juno’s lips quirked up a bit.

“What would you like to know?” Sage asked Morgan.

“Uhh.” Morgan looked blankly at her. “I have no idea. I’ve recently gotten my dream job and I’m eng⁠—”

“Shh.” Sage put her finger to Morgan’s lips. “Don’t give me any information that will sway my reading. Only questions.”

Morgan pulled away, sitting as far back in her chair as possible. She blinked. “Okay.”

Sage set up her crystal ball on the table. Lights and smoke flared within what looked like a glorified snow globe.

“Okay,” Morgan said again, this time with a lick of her lips and a look of fierce concentration on her face. “What can I do to anticipate the next disaster at work before it happens?”

“You’re already doing it,” Sage said.

Morgan chewed her lip. “But if some dingle decides he doesn’t like green and everything in his wardrobe is green, if I know what to do in advance, I can save myself future headaches.”

“There are two answers I can give you for this,” Sage said. “One—this exact issue has already happened, and will not happen again. Two—you already have adapted for future repeats of this issue by creating options with greater color variance.”

Morgan twisted in her seat and beamed at me. “She’s good.”

I nodded. Sage was great at reading people. I wasn’t convinced that it had anything to do with her props, but she definitely deserved credit for her craft.

“There’s a surprise in the near future,” Sage said. “For one of you.”

Her eyes flashed to me, so quickly I hoped I was the only one who caught it. Also, panic quickly rose up in my chest and I seriously debated fleeing before she could say whatever she thought she might know. But my feet remained rooted firmly in place.

“What kind of surprise?” Morgan asked.

Don’t let this be about the tiny pecan growing in my stomach.

“Small in size, large in impact.”

I could feel Sage pinging me, like she was staring right at me, even though her cloudy gaze was set on Morgan.

I sucked in a sharp breath. Sage knew. How could she know?

“I have a weasel,” Morgan said.

“Mm,” Sage said, in a completely noncommittal way.

She definitely knew. All the air seemed to whoosh out of the tent, even though the flaps were still open.

I couldn’t talk about it. No one could know. I couldn’t take the pressure; I couldn’t risk my secret being exposed.

I backed slowly away, and once I was outside, I ran.

I wasn’t sure where I was running, exactly, since there was nowhere to go to escape the “surprise” who was about to take over my life. Running onto the beach wouldn’t help. Going home wouldn’t serve me any better.

Being pregnant was something I’d have to face no matter where I was, no matter how hard or how far I ran. The time to face it wasn’t now. I needed to get through these couple of days first. I needed⁠—

As I rounded the corner, I caught sight of a big mass right in my way. I slammed to a stop, twisting and catching my balance so I didn’t hit whoever it was or land on the ground.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching—” My words crashed in my throat as quickly as my thoughts had in my head.

I stared at the aquamarine-shirted meat wall. It was Jasper, because of course it was.

“You okay?” His expression was soft, like I was an injured animal he might scare if he moved too quickly.

I couldn’t breathe. Everything was too much. I wanted to run until I collapsed.

I answered, “No.”

“Walk with me,” he said so gently it made my heart ache. “Please.”

“No.” I hugged myself, wishing I could shoot up into the sky and fly away.

“Dinner then. An opportunity to talk.”

“I have plans.” He didn’t have to know those plans involved a frozen container of veggie alfredo. In my living room. Alone.

“I’m not asking for a date.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “We need to talk.”

He kept saying that—talkity talk talk.

I said, “We’re talking right now.”

He looked back to where the rest of the wedding crew was shopping in the market. “In private.”

“You’re going to keep cornering me until I agree,” I said, only half in question.

“If you won’t talk to me, I have to keep trying.”

I rolled my eyes. “That sounds very stalkerish.”

He raised his hands in defense. “It’s all very innocent, I swear.”

“You don’t have an innocent bone in your body, Jasper Carrington.”

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a small smile. “But I’ll gladly wear a muzzle if you’re worried.”

The joke loosened something in my chest. I could feel my conviction wavering, but I couldn’t seem to help it. “A Hannibal Lecter mask.”

“If there’s one on the island, it’s mine.”

I laughed despite my intentions to stay mad at him, to stay distant and cold, to not let him in. “I still have plans tonight.”

“Plans where it’s possible to add a plus one?”

His lips turned up in a hopeful grin. He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall. It was all very charming. He was too charming.

He threw around those charismatic smiles like he had an endless supply. His smile transformed from sweet to sexy, and he very well knew the impact that expression would have on any straight woman in a mile’s radius. Add a wink, and my panties would melt right off.

But I knew better. I’d do better.

“There’s no room for a plus one who has a girlfriend sharing his bed,” I said.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch to be safe,” he said. “But Jules hasn’t been around today or yesterday. We aren’t sharing a bed. And she’s not my girlfriend.”

“But you’re still sharing a room. And you were when you….” I glanced back to where Gabe and Layana were shopping. When he’d kissed me. I couldn’t say the words, not here, maybe not at all.

“Then I’ll leave. I’ll sleep on the beach, or Chester’s sofa,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”

I wasn’t sure which would be worse, sleeping out in the elements or in the room of someone he didn’t know. But as I looked over his open expression, I believed him.

He was entirely done with Jules. He was willing to prove it with his actions. He couldn’t uninvite her now that she was already here, so what exactly did I expect from him?

“Fine. But no dinner.” No having him at my house. I didn’t trust either of us enough for that at the moment. “Meet me at nine by the big sign at the island’s northernmost beach.”

“I look forward to it.”

This was a very bad, terrible idea. I added, “For talking.”

He nodded. “Scout’s honor.”

With that, he let me walk away without following. But I could feel him looking at me, smiling even wider than before. If the last smile was panty-melting, this one took all the world’s bras and underwear and tossed them into a volcano.

NINETEEN

JASPER

I stood at the side of the road as my ride drove off into the distance. He took all the light with him, leaving me to uselessly squint at the large sign posted by the roped-off dunes. I listened to the sound of waves splashing against sand, blinked, and waited for my eyes to adjust.

Fuzzy letters began to come into focus.

No trespassing.

My driver had assured me this was the northernmost beach. Then he left me alone in the darkness at the edge of some sand that was apparently off limits to the public.

There was plenty more to read below the notice at the top of the sign, but the large print made the intention of the sign loud and clear.

Was this a prank? Had Esme told me to come here as a trick so I’d leave her alone?

I pulled out my phone, and checked the time. Two minutes past nine. I clicked on the flashlight and scanned the area. The water sounds came from beyond the tall hills of sand. On the other side of the road, short wind-warped trees wove tightly together. No sign of civilization waited in either direction down the dark road.

There was also no sign of Esme.

She could be on her way still, slow because she insisted on riding her skateboard instead of taking a car. She could be somewhere else around here. Or she’d tricked me into coming out into the middle of nowhere simply to make me walk back. That seemed the most likely. She was probably propping her feet up on her kitchen table cackling about it right this very minute.

I waited as the minutes ticked past. Five past. Ten past.

How long should I give it before I accepted that this was a game to her? It wasn’t like I had anywhere else I’d rather be. I’d taken the opportunity to rent equipment and surf in the morning, then I’d returned it before meeting everyone at the market in the afternoon. I had no bed lined up for the night.

I sighed and shined my light back toward the dunes.

“Turn that off.”

Esme’s voice startled me. I twisted and caught her standing on top of the forbidden dunes. She was wearing another one of her billowing sundresses, this one coral with a white palm leaves, and a cardigan. She shielded her face with her hands.

“Of course you’re past the rope you’re not supposed to cross,” I said, my chest feeling lighter.

“You’re blinding me.”

Oops. I turned off the light and slid my phone back in my pocket.

“That’s better,” she said. “Now don’t just stand there, get your butt up here.”

I chuckled and stepped over the rope. The sand slipped under my feet, making the slope more difficult to climb, but it didn’t take long before I reached her.

The darkness completely hid her face. I stared, hoping the clouds would part and I’d catch a glimpse of her expression to get a read on her mood in the moonlight. When the clouds stayed stubbornly in place, I said. “No lights allowed while breaking laws? Wouldn’t want the cops to see you.”

“I am the law.” She lifted something up for me to see, but it was too dark.

“Uh-huh,” I said, teasingly. “Sure.”

Teasing was easy, comfortable territory. I didn’t know how else to act with the girl I’d known for more than half of my life, who’d been the adorable kid next door I’d had way too much fun hanging out with despite our age difference. Then she’d gone and grown up into a gorgeous woman who knew exactly what to say to pull a reaction out of me. And we’d shared a kiss so haunting it had dominated my thoughts since.

If Esme were anyone else, I’d know exactly how to act.

And then of course, to make everything even more complicated, was the fact that I knew her secret.

She said, “When your eyes adjust, you’ll apologize for disrespecting this very official badge I’m wielding.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

She turned on her heel and started walking. I matched her stride.

Details began to come slowly into focus—the cinnamon buns she’d styled her hair into at the base of her ears, the delicate shapes of her swinging arms, the defiant tilt of her chin.

There was a line somewhere between pretending everything was normal and admitting that there was no way I could ever see her the same way I used to again. I had no idea where that line was. I had no idea how to talk to Esme anymore, but that’s what I was here for, wasn’t it? I had to try.

I asked, “What are you doing out here?”

“I told you, I’m the law,” she said, as if that clarified anything. “I’m defending these parts from riffraff. I let you join, so you have to pull your weight.”

“Watch out for trouble.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m already looking at it.” I grinned at her, hoping she could see my smile, hoping to start this conversation as lightly as possible.

She stopped and turned to me. “Why are you here? What do you want, Jasper?”

Her tone was harsher than I’d expected.

I ran a hand over my face. “I’m sorry.”

I was sorry I kissed her, sorry I offended her, sorry I was so lost.

“I know you and Gabe both think I’m irresponsible,” she said.

What? “I don’t think that.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. It was a defensive stance.

“You just called me trouble,” she said, hard, cold.

That wasn’t how I’d meant it. Why was I getting this so wrong? “You’ve always run headfirst, Bramble.”

“Stop calling me that.”

I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut, needing to think before I responded. It took me a second to figure out what she must be talking about. “You mean Bramble?”

“Yes, Bramble. I’m tired of the insult. Just don’t, okay?”

She really caught me by surprise with this. I didn’t know where she’d gotten the idea that I’d called her Bramble to upset her. “I never meant it as an insult.”

“Sure.”

“Truly.” I wanted to reach out and grab her shoulders, but flexed my fingers against my shorts to fight the impulse. I tried to think back to how I’d first started calling her the nickname. “I can’t say exactly when I first used the nickname but⁠—”

“I can.”

Of course she could. She never forgot a single detail.

“But,” I said again, before she got a chance to tell me how I’d screwed up when I was twelve or however old I’d been. “I always admired the beauty of the thorn bushes in the field between our houses. I loved eating the wild berries that grew there with you.”

She was quiet, really quiet.

I continued, “You were as untamed and free-spirited as those bushes, and just as thorny as you stood your ground no matter what the circumstances. You make decisions with your heart, and you go for what you want. You’re the kind of trouble that everyone else wishes they could be.”

I really wished I could see the details of her face. But maybe I wouldn’t have been able to tell her all of this if I could.

“Oh.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “When you say it like that, it almost sounds like a compliment.”

Good, this was good. At least I was getting something right. “That’s because it is. You don’t follow rules just because they exist. You forge your own path, and it’s a spectacular sight to behold.”

“Fine, call me Bramble if you want.”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

She shrugged like it didn’t matter.

“You’re not going to try to kiss me again, are you? Because there’s no kissing on Turtle Beach.” I caught the uptick of her mouth, the teasing tone in her words.

“Maybe that’s just because they don’t want people kissing turtles,” I said.

“You’re not too far off.”

“Really?”

“Well, people don’t usually try to kiss them, but they do try to pick them up. They damage the beach and crush the eggs. That’s why I volunteer here, to enforce the rules.”

She’d always loved animals. It didn’t surprise me that she’d spend her free time protecting them. It was so very Esme.

She said, “I get to scare off any idiots who try any funny business.”

“Like me and my dastardly lips.”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“About that⁠—”

“We should just pretend it didn’t happen,” she said.

She was giving me the easy out. I should take it. I needed to take it, but I didn’t want to. I needed to tell her I was sorry I kissed her, but now that I had my chance, I couldn’t say the words.

I wasn’t sorry.

Kissing her had felt so right, I couldn’t lie and tell her it was wrong. I was sorry that my actions had made everything so complicated. But even if it could never happen again, I wouldn’t take it back even if I could. Maybe I could pretend.

Then there was the other reason I needed to talk to her. It was equally difficult, but I found myself changing the subject. “Last night⁠—”

“Why are you so worried about what I was doing last night?” she asked. “I was at work, then I was here. There’s no exciting secret in my comings and goings worth making a big deal about.”

I wasn’t concerned about where she’d been. But I did need to tell her what I found when I went to her home. “I wanted to talk to you, apologize for upsetting you during our outing.”

“That didn’t happen, remember. Pretending only works if we both play along.”

Apparently I’d fully decided I wasn’t going to do that, at least not when it was just the two of us. I continued, “I went by your house. The door was open.”

She turned fully toward me. A breeze blew through, flapping her dress. The clouds parted enough that I could see her face in detail. Her pink lips pursed. Lines creased her forehead. Her dark eyes assessed me through thick lashes.

My throat grew tight. “I saw the Jenga tower.”

She blinked. Her chest heaved once, twice.

Again I wanted to touch her, pull her into my arms, and tell her everything would be all right. The more pent-up distress I saw rising through her, the more I wanted to try to fix it. Whatever it was she needed, I wanted to give it to her.

“You came into my house and dug through my stuff?” Panic tinged her words.

I took a breath and fought the growingly overwhelming urge to hold her. “The door was open and the tests were on the counter.”

She twisted her features.

“How dare you.” Her words were a curse, an accusation, a plea.

She slammed her fists into my chest, and her whole body followed. She was so warm, so small. All that strength and fire melted away. Her body trembled, and I wrapped my arms around her.

“You can’t. I’m not,” she said on a soft breath. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her again, and I held her.

She twisted her fingers into my shirt and buried her face there. I held her, wordlessly promising that she was safe, that I was here for her.

We were friends. Friends offered support. Friends helped each other carry secrets and work through life’s trials.

“It was only one time. We used protection,” she said even softer than before.

Selfishly, I wanted to ask the question that had plagued me since I found the test on her counter. Was Ziggy the father?

Cool moisture spread across my chest—her tears. I kept holding her, rubbing gentle circles over her back. My heart ached for her.

She stayed there, clinging to me, before she continued. “I just found out. At the doctor’s on Friday. It’s hardly been enough time to come to terms with the fact that this is happening.”

“That must be overwhelming,” I said.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, some of her usual fight coming back. “I’ve hardly figured out what I want in my own life, and I’m about to become responsible for someone else’s.”

She had to be terrified. Again, I wondered if Ziggy was there supporting her. The image of the two of them in the water together filled my head, then the two of them at the bar flinging a fork at my head, him grabbing her and lifting her onto the stage.

The ache in my chest turned to numbness as I forced myself to ask, “Have you told the father?”

“Psh.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “He’s back in Epiphany. He’s not going to be in the picture.”

She hadn’t met Ziggy until she came here. He wasn’t the father. Relief flooded my veins, and I felt terrible for it.

“It’s me. Alone in this.” Esme tilted her chin up, imploring me with her big brown eyes.

There were no words to explain how shredded it made me feel to see her so vulnerable. If there were someone to punch, a name for the selfish piece of garbage who hurt her like this, I would.

“You’re not alone,” I said.

“I can’t tell Gabe, not until after the wedding. And honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to tell him even then. The last thing I want is for him to go all dad-mode, and try to drag me back to Epiphany so he can micromanage every aspect of my life. I need this to be my life, do the whole pregnancy thing on my terms. And I’m keeping my baby.”

She was fighting for autonomy. She was fighting to save sea turtles and to explore haunted ruins. She was strong and loyal and loving. She was fighting for the life she wanted, because that’s who she was.

“I see you, Esme Stryker,” I said. “You’re a warrior. And you’ll be a great mom.”

She half laughed, half cried in a bubble of sound.

“You don’t know how good it feels to have someone to talk to. I haven’t wanted anyone to know, but now that you do, there’s a weight lifted.”

I didn’t know anything about being a parent, so I didn’t know how I could actually help her, but I was happy to be able to offer her a friendly, nonjudgmental ear. “I’m glad. You can tell me anything. I want to be the friend you need.”

She loosened her grip on my shirt, ran her hands up my chest, and cupped my cheeks. Her gaze flicked to my lips.

I tilted my chin down to meet her as she lifted on tiptoes.

And she kissed me. It was soft, imploring, and raw.

This kiss wasn’t a shock. It wasn’t desperate. It was two people grazing each other in the darkness, both unclear what would happen. I knew I wasn’t supposed to let this happen again, but I couldn’t stop it.

I squeezed her tighter, sure that if I let go, it would break us both.

I let her lead, let her take things deeper, and met her tongue with the same gentle pressure she offered me. We could be friends who offered comfort to each other.

Far too soon, she pulled away.

The certainty I’d felt washed away, leaving an Esme-shaped coldness against my skin.

All of my internal reassurances about friendship vanished. My cock ached, my head pounded, and all I could think about was how I needed more of her, all of her.

“I thought there wasn’t any kissing allowed on Turtle Beach,” I said, relishing the feel of her still on my lips.

“I thought you admired the way I take what I want.” She guided my hand to her breast and held it there, with a spark of familiar mischief sparkling in her eyes.

It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

Her breast was soft and perfectly sized to fit my palm. I massaged her gently through the thin fabric of her dress, and what felt like a lace bra beneath, paying special attention to the tiny pebble at the peak. She gasped and blinked, as if after her brazen action, I’d somehow surprised her.

“Is this what you want?” My voice sounded as shredded and desperate as I felt.

She moaned and pressed her hand harder over mine, encouraging me.

“Tell me, Esme. I need to hear you say it.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she threw her head back. “Yes, Jasper.”

Was she embarrassed? If she was, there was no need. She was glorious, always, but even more so like this.

“It’s the hormones. I swear, I’m not usually like this,” she said.

“You’re perfect.” If she needed someone to help her, if she needed to find release, I was going to make damned sure it was me who helped her. Not the musician, not anyone else.

I kissed her jaw and down her neck, committing the salty taste of her skin to memory. This might be the only time she’d let me touch her like this. The idea burned in my throat.

She squeezed my shoulder, holding onto me as I found a spot on her neck that made her quiver and pant. I focused my attention there, licking as I brushed my thumb back and forth over her nipple. It pebbled under my touch.

I’d prove to her how much I could help her. Even if I couldn’t keep her, I could make her come so hard she’d forget her worries for a little while.

I slid my hand down her back and cupped her ass. It, too, was soft. Everything about her body was so fucking soft. My fingers went from cloth to bare skin as I lifted her skirt and circled the back of her thigh.

She moaned. “Don’t just tease me. Touch me.”

I grinned against her neck, wrapped my arm around her and lifted her with ease. She gasped in surprise and hooked her arms over my shoulders.

“I didn’t mean pick me up. I meant….” She pressed her lips together, again showing a side I didn’t know she had.

Was she bashful? Ashamed to tell me she wanted me to touch her pussy?

“Is this a safe place to lie in the sand?” I asked.

Her features twisted in confusion, a blush slowly creeping up over her cheeks.

“The turtles,” I said. “I don’t want to be the guy who smashes the baby turtles.”

“Right. Yes. This is safe.”

“Great.” I set her down on the sand and hovered over her, with only inches of space and a few pieces of fabric between us. The light captured the hot look she was giving me. It said everything she struggled to tell me with words. She wanted this, wanted me.

And then I kissed her. Hard.

She clawed at my chest, lifting my shirt up. I helped her, letting the kiss end only long enough to slip my shirt over my head and tuck it between her head and the sand.

Then I pulled her panties aside and looked into her eyes as I slid my fingers down to her clit. I watched her lips part and her eyes flutter back. I took my cues from her zealous reactions, loving every sound I coaxed out of her, every hitch of her breath, and every new blush that crossed her cheeks.

“Oh my yes yes yes,” she whispered, arching her back.

Her hands frantically searched for my fly. She struggled as her pleasure built, but finally she unzipped my pants, and from there, shoved down my boxers. My cock sprang free, releasing the pressure of being trapped inside my shorts.

She wrapped her fist around me, her eyes finding mine, and finally the embarrassment was completely gone. As she stroked her hand up and down my length, she looked at me with an intensity I couldn’t quite comprehend.

But then again, I couldn’t quite think, either, not with her heady scent surrounding me, not while I was so close to making her come, and not when she was touching me like that, not while she was squeezing and stroking and panting.

“Fuck, Esme,” I said, the pressure of my own orgasm building at speeds it hadn’t since I was a teenager.

“Call me Bramble.”

“Anything you want.”

“Do it,” she gasped.

“Bramble.”

She threw her head back. Her every muscle tensed from the gentle pressure I applied to her clit. I watched as her orgasm overcame her. She was so beautiful, just like this, just like always.

I didn’t stop touching her until her body settled. Even then, I couldn’t seem to take my hands away. I could spend lifetimes exploring the expanse of her soft skin. I needed to touch her more than I needed air to breathe.

She smiled a shy smile back up at me. “That was wow.”

“I aim to please.”

She pushed me gently off of her.

I let her, curious what she meant to do next.

“So do I,” she said on a soft exhale.

We knelt together and she stroked me, her head against my chest. I held my arm around her, my fingers clutched into her hip.

She watched my face with sweetness and determination as she ran her fist up and down my length. I could get lost here on the beach with her for an eternity and gladly forget the rest of the world existed. No matter how long it lasted, it wasn’t long enough, but I came staring into the depths of her endlessly brown eyes.

And when it was done, I felt a relief I hadn’t expected. The physical release was great, yeah, but that wasn’t the feeling that lingered in my chest. It was contentment instead. It didn’t feel wrong to touch each other like this. It didn’t feel like we were risking our friendship. It felt right.

And I realized then that Jules had been right about me. I was weird about Esme. My feelings for Esme were complicated, and I didn’t quite know what to do with that.

TWENTY

ESME

My brain buzzed with unwanted thoughts and sensations throughout the night. I dreamed of Jasper, of exploring his taut, tattooed skin, of his hands on my breasts and his cock buried deep inside of me. That last bit didn’t even really happen. In reality, after the whole orgasming jazz, we’d sat together, me snuggled into his side. My sleep brain didn’t care about reality, though. My sleep brain was a dick-obsessed horn-ball apparently, which I guessed was still better than spending the night trapped in another dream about First Contact.

When I woke, I needed a long cold shower before I was able to face anyone, let alone the man who’d consumed my dreams.

Pregnancy hormones were no joke.

Now that it was late afternoon and we were standing side by side in the cave for the wedding rehearsal, I could practically feel the heat of his skin even though we weren’t touching. Worse, memories from last night’s beach rendezvous mingled with the faux memories of my dreams. It was all I could do not to burst into a flaming pepper of bright red embarrassment.

I felt like a fraud standing here as a groomsbabe, supposedly supporting my brother.

A brand new pang of worry bloomed in my gut, that I was being weird and someone would notice. And they knew. How could they not? I was going to expose both of us for the deviants we were, all with a blush and a look of awkward, guilty discomfort.

Fortunately for me, everyone was otherwise occupied.

Phone flashlights lit the periphery of the cave where the candles would be on Thursday for the actual event. On the other side of our little arc lineup, Layana’s sisters flanked Juno and Morgan, with the happy couple in the middle of us all. Layana beamed at Gabe, while Chester chattered on about what would be said during the ceremony.

I needed to pay attention. I needed to focus on anything but the broadness of Jasper’s shoulders, the easy strength in his biceps, or how tall he was. Everything about him was big, yet he’d been gentle with me.

“We’re gathered. These two beautiful people are committed to eternal monogamy,” Chester said. “We’ll gather again in two days to celebrate their promises.”

How was I supposed to pay attention? Even when I was looking at Gabe and Layana, I had to look past Jasper. Why did he have to have such an artfully carved jawline?

“They’ll tie their finances together,” Chester said. “They’ll probably pop out a litter of stunning little cherubs before long.”

Gabe bristled.

Layana kicked Chester in the knee.

“Oof.” Chester responded with a sour twist of his mouth and a glare. “I was praising your future spawn.”

“No more spawn or litter talk, or you’re fired,” Layana said. “With a flamethrower.”

He smiled at her. “But I’m the only one here who’s ordained. I got the paper just for you.”

“He’ll behave for the real thing.” Juno’s expression grew dark. “Won’t you, Chester?”

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman, cross my heart,” he said. “Hope to die. Poke a Cheeto in my eye.”

Gabe groaned.

“I might just do that.” Layana laughed. “I bet the cheese dust would get all up in there, and you’d end up with a retinal infection.”

“Mom and Dad will throw a fit if they catch any of this kind of nonsense during the ceremony,” Layana’s sister Luna said under her breath.

“That’s the risk of video chat,” Lindsey said. “Along with the rest of doing this in such a non-traditional way.”

Morgan twisted and thrust her chin up at the pair. “It’s going to be the perfect ceremony for Layana.”

It sounded like a warning to the sisters, maybe even to the universe. Morgan was always so sweet, it was nice to see her loyalty shine brighter.

“Kiss the bride,” Chester bellowed out of nowhere. His loud voice, amplified by the way sound bounced off the cave walls, vibrated my chest.

I couldn’t see Gabe’s face, but the way he pulled his bride-to-be into his arms and kissed her, I was certain he couldn’t wait for this part. He was completely certain about Layana after such a short time. He never went half in on anything. He was so focused and driven that he only chose the most important to focus on. Everything else—activities, people—became noise to him.

Out of the billions of people on the planet, how had he found the one? He’d never settle for anything less. He didn’t believe in good enough.

Whatever dumb luck or Hallmark movie magic allowed him to pull it off, I was ridiculously happy for him. Excited tears of joy pricked my eyes. If anyone deserved the whole white picket fence, two and a half kids American dream, it was Gabe.

Even though he’d been eleven when our only real parent died, Gabe had stepped up. He helped Oma raise me. He basically got robbed of his whole childhood. Then he took over where Dad left off with a passion for trash. I didn’t get it, but I respected it. Gabe was reducing landfills with his mega-sized brain. What wasn’t to respect?

I wished sometimes that I’d gotten to know Dad better, too, since I was only two when he passed. I didn’t have to mourn the same way Gabe did, because I was so little. But I also didn’t feel any real connection to the dad I never got the chance to know. I did know I was lucky that Gabe watched my back all those years.

This was what I was supposed to be focusing on—my brother, his wedding, the whole miracle of love thing. Finally, I was getting my priorities right.

Jasper turned his head ever so slightly, his gaze landing on me.

My breath caught, and I was transported right back to our forbidden make-out session on Turtle Beach. His lips quirked up on the side in a stunningly charming grin.

And there went my focus on the right thing. Now all I could think about was wrong things—deliciously dirty things that couldn’t be scrubbed from my brain even with bleach and steel wool.

I wrinkled my nose and glared at Jasper, willing myself not to smile back. Still, I could feel the pull in my cheeks. I was going to lose this internal battle.

It was stupid to allow anything physical to happen between us, and it could never happen again. I knew this. I knew getting involved with him was a terrible idea, but as we celebrated love, as we were forced to stand side-by-side, his pinky brushing the inside of my forearm, it didn’t feel like the worst thing that could happen.

What was a little harmless fun between two people who’d known each other for forever? He’d said he wanted to be the friend I needed.

The more I told myself it was smart to resist, the more I was sure I was going to fold and give in.

And I was going to love every minute of it.

TWENTY-ONE

JASPER

I could count the number of weddings I’d attended on one hand. For each, I’d been a child stuffed into a suit that I hated. I’d been surrounded by a menagerie of ancient, boring relics. All of them had droned on about their fortunes and their latest purchases to try and out-bland all of the other old-money relics.

Most of the weddings had been unions between my father’s business associates and their latest, youngest, trophies. My father’s third marriage had been one of the occasions. Mom had been home pretending she wasn’t crying as she ushered me into a limo to attend. We’d barely been kicked out of the Carrington manor for a heartbeat before the newest wife had been brought in.

The vibe at all of the weddings was always stuffy, dismal, and overly showy. It was pretty much the same vibe as the funerals I’d attended.

But this—the excitement, the hopefulness for a bright future between two people who truly loved each other—it was something entirely foreign to me. I watched my reserved best friend transform before my eyes. Gabriel’s expression wasn’t pinched. He was a portrait of unbridled joy.

I watched in awe as the informal rehearsal unfolded. Gabriel tensed here and there, but his joy never faltered.

To my other side, I felt Esme looking at me. When I glanced her way, she snapped her attention back to her brother. Until she didn’t.

Last night felt a world away, but the two of us were still here on this island together. Bending my usual rules by allowing Jules to accompany me to Calypso Caribella had clearly taught me nothing. Instead of establishing my usual two-night rule from the start, I was considering bending that rule again.

Then again, Esme wasn’t like any other woman I’d been with. She wasn’t like anyone. Whether it be a dare, or tease, or a mischievous look in my direction, she’d always had a way of drawing me into recklessness.

I would be here for three more days, and I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend that time naked with Esme.

We’d left things without discussion of meaning or any kind of promises, but the way she wrinkled her nose at me promised everything was the same between us as it always had been. At least it was the same for her.

It didn’t matter if I felt something deeper. Emotions could be cured through sheer force of will. Ignore. Distract. Smile.

Laughter and excitement flowed as we left the cave and made our way to another beachside restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. The sun set during the ride, so when we arrived, conversation shifted to the fairy lights and tropical flowers decorating the stone building’s entrance.

There was a magical feel in the air as we settled down at our table. From the delicate lanterns to the soft fabric chairs, every detail here set this place apart from anywhere else we’d eaten on the island. It was as perfect as the wedding venue, which meant Esme must have picked it.

I cut a quick gaze in her direction where she was seated once again across the table from me. Then I ordered my food, sat back, and took in the easy conversation that hadn’t stopped since we’d left the cave.

“The best episode was the dance competition, hands down.” Luna pointed at Chester. “You transformed from cheese pirate to graceful fairy. But like how?”

Laughter erupted.

“I’m a multifaceted enigma,” Chester said.

“Can’t say that day was a highlight for me,” Morgan said, her smile warm.

“You got kicked off that day.” Luna cringed. “Sorry. Still a great episode though. What about you, Linds? What was your fave episode?”

Lindsey adjusted in her seat, a slight blush creeping up her neck. “There’s too many great ones to choose from.”

“You didn’t watch it.” Layana quirked her head slightly to the side. Amusement twisted her lips.

“What?” Luna snapped her attention to Lindsey. “Our sister was on television and you didn’t watch the show? Tell me it’s not true.”

Lindsey slipped down lower in her seat.

“OMG it is.” Luna shook her head.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Lindsey said. “I’ve been meaning to. I just. I’ve been busy!”

Layana laughed. “It’s fine, Linds.”

“No it’s not,” Luna said.

Lydia said, “Agreed. I made time and I work twice the hours you do.”

A text dinged on my phone. It was from Marc, my assistant.

Marc: Another leak today when the plumber moved the pipes in the upstairs bathroom.

Marc: No damage. All is well and under control.

As the servers delivered our food, I thanked my lucky stars that I had Marc to handle any of Brenda’s mishaps while I was away.

Me: Have I told you you’re a lifesaver? Thank you again for managing Brenda while I’m away.

Marc: I still refuse to refer to a building by a woman’s name. And you’re welcome.

I grinned and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

Esme absently twisted a lock of hair around her finger as she watched the sisters bicker. She looked at me and quirked her lips to the side. A simple glance, a tiny smile, and my heart pitter-pattered.

The conversation went from reality show shenanigans to honeymoon plans, which apparently entailed Gabriel and Layana leaving here to visit other islands in the area before heading to Europe where they would spend another week before settling in Germany for a month for Gabriel’s new business merger.

I listened and tried not to let my attention linger too long on Esme, or on the way she’d tied her windswept hair over her shoulder in a loose twisted braid, or the way the soft lighting caught a ring of gold along the edge of her irises that I’d somehow never noticed before.

“Jasper.”

It was my brother’s voice. I glanced in his direction. The entire table was staring at me. I guessed I wasn’t listening well enough.

And hopefully they hadn’t been staring long, or they would realize who had captured my attention.

“Hmm?” I flashed Oscar a smile.

I could tell the truth and let them know I was feeling a little slow today after trying and failing to sleep on the beach. But mentioning any of that would only end in more questions I didn’t want to answer, including why I hadn’t slept in my own room or how I smelled clean if I hadn’t returned to my room.

The answer to the second was that I’d stolen a few minutes in the outdoor shower by Oscar’s room while he and Morgan were at the pool.

“Recommendations for Layana during her stay in Germany,” Oscar said, his expression flat.

“I haven’t been to Germany,” I said.

We blinked at each other a moment, me wondering if he’d noticed me staring at Esme, him probably wondering what was wrong with me.

I took a bite of whatever fish everyone had ordered. My tastebuds told me it was good, even though I hardly registered any of it.

“I thought there was a trip for one of Sebastian’s birthdays,” Oscar said. “Fourteen or thereabouts.”

“He went. I didn’t.”

A pang of knowing regret crossed Oscar’s features for a quick second before Morgan navigated the conversation back into safer waters.

Oscar had been excluded from most of the Carrington family activities when we were kids. That didn’t mean I’d been included in everything. I didn’t expect him to know all of the details, and the reminder didn’t hurt me, even if he seemed to think it could.

Nothing hurt if I didn’t let it. It was easier and more pleasant to go with the flow. If he’d continued to press the point, I’d have told him so, but the conversation had already moved along.

“Morgan and LayLay grew up together, we all know this, but what about you two?” Juno pointed at Gabriel and me. “I hear you have serious history, too.”

I took another bite of my food, still not tasting it.

“Jasper moved in next door when I was fourteen,” Gabriel said.

“I was twelve,” I added.

“I was five,” Esme said.

Juno snapped a picture of the group of us with her phone. Then she asked, “Has Gabriel always been so reserved?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said.

Esme barked a laugh.

“No,” I said. “He had a bit of a wild streak.”

“I didn’t,” Gabriel said.

“We’re all friends here,” Juno chuckled. “How wild?”

“Typical teenager stuff. Hard to believe looking at him now, I know,” I said. “But he was always ridiculously responsible, too.”

“Not always,” Esme said.

Gabriel cut her a warning glare.

She put her hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m just telling it like it is.”

I focused on my food.

“Now I need to know what this is all about.” Layana chuckled. “Spill.”

Gabriel laced his fingers in Layana’s on the tabletop.

“Well, he was like seventy percent driven, dad mode.” Esme leaned on her elbows. “Twenty percent growly grump.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Gabriel said.

Layana laughed louder. I chuckled a little at that, too.

“That other ten percent, though, that’s the part he always tried to hide from me,” Esme said. “He thought he was slick.”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Like a lubed-up snake,” Esme said. “On a Vaseline-coated Slip ‘N Slide.”

Chester said, with a completely serious tone and a completely earnest expression, “Sounds like my typical Tuesday.”

Gabriel and I shared an I-don’t-want-to-know look, while I tried really hard not to imagine a visual. Juno laughed.

“My baby sister saying the words lubed-up snake will haunt me until the day I die,” Gabriel said.

Esme’s expression went dark for a flash—likely because he’d called her his baby sister—before turning full mischief. Whatever she said next was going to be bad for Gabriel.

She only looked like this when she meant to take things too far, pushing the conversation outside the bounds of friendly banter. This look said she was about to mention the one time he accidentally ate pot-laced brownies, ended up falling asleep in the yard before the sprinklers went off, and stripped naked before realizing the house was locked.

He had tried to put his clothes back on, but it didn’t go well with them wet. And well, some stories are never meant to be shared in big groups.

But because she was Esme, she wouldn’t realize she was pushing too much. She would describe every minute in agonizing detail. She couldn’t help herself. And Gabriel would be hurt.

I shot her a look that said don’t-say-whatever-it-is-you’re-planning-to-say.

She grinned back like the Cheshire cat and waggled her brows as if to say try-and-stop-me.

Kicking her under the table wouldn’t help. Last time, I’d missed and kicked Gabriel, and even if I hit my mark, it wouldn’t stop her. And I couldn’t exactly tackle her and cover her mouth.

But I had to do something.

“I remember a number of occasions where Gabriel tried to stop you from getting into trouble,” I said.

Her gaze seared me. She waited, without attacking her brother.

And for a moment I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

“Like what?” Juno asked.

“Yeah, Jasper, like what?” Her voice was so sweet it covered the poison hiding beneath.

I swallowed whatever story I was about to try to come up with.

“Once Esme decided to force Jasper into a marshmallow-eating competition,” Gabriel said. “He only ate three then declared her the winner, but she wouldn’t accept that he hadn’t really tried.”

“So I stuck two mini marshmallows in his nose the next time he stayed the night. And one in each ear,” she said, her voice still sickeningly sweet.

This wasn’t what I’d wanted, either. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable any more than I wanted Gabriel to be upset.

“So no childhood crushes on the cute boy next door for you, Esme?” Juno said, with a soft chuckle.

“Jasper was too old, right, Esme?” Gabriel said.

“Too old,” Esme parroted, her tone growing more dangerous. No one else seemed to notice.

Did she believe that? All evidence suggested otherwise.

“And they didn’t spend time together,” Gabriel said.

“We did,” Esme said.

It was like being at ground zero of a nuclear explosion, knowing everything was about to go to hell, but there was not a thing I could do to stop it.

“When?” Gabriel said.

“All the time at first,” Esme said. “We were best friends before you even noticed he moved in.”

“A five-year-old and a twelve-year-old were best friends?” Gabriel asked in disbelief.

“Yep,” Esme said.

They both looked to me for confirmation.

“We were all friends,” I said, flustered. My words would appease no one.

“That’s nice of you to say,” Gabriel said.

But it wasn’t really. I had spent time with Esme first. She was a cute little kid who offered me a third of her Milky Way bar when she found me sulking about having to move out of my home to make room for Dad’s new family. Chocolate makes everything better, she’d told me. That was my first memory of her, well that and her good-spirited offer to punch whoever had made me sad. Then she’d asked me if I wanted to pick berries with her, and so we did. And I’d felt better, if only for a little while.

Esme stared at me. I stared back.

“Ancient history,” she said finally, then she asked Juno about her current video.

Gabriel kissed Layana's temple.

Everyone was fine except for me. I felt bothered. I smiled and tried to listen to the conversation. But eventually I excused myself for some distance and went to the bathroom.

A moment later, I heard the door. It wasn’t a huge space—clean and nice, but not the kind of restroom meant to share. I turned to tell whoever was coming in that it was occupied.

But it was Esme.

She slipped in and clicked the lock behind her.

The air around us heated and sparked, an electrical storm in the desert.

I should apologize for not saying that the two of us were friends when I could have. I should tell her that her Milky Way saved me from the bone-deep loneliness I’d felt all those years ago.

Instead, I asked, “What are you doing?”

She gave me her Cheshire smile, the one that promised she was up to absolutely no good. And with the two of us alone, I was more than glad to see it.

She poked the tip of her finger into the center of my chest. “Chasing after you, clearly.”

We were friends, always. I needed to remind my cock of that as it sprang to life. I didn’t know the rules. Crossing lines with her felt inevitable, yet terrifying.

It was messy, and complicated, or it should have been. It didn’t feel complicated enough as she slid her finger slowly down my chest, searing the skin beneath, until she hooked it on the waistband of my shorts and pulled me toward her.

The scent of her washed over me—sweet and intoxicating. She smelled like sunlight and chocolate and stolen kisses on Turtle Beach. It was impossible to think clearly with her this close, even if in the back of my mind I knew there were reasons I shouldn’t let her touch me.

But it was impossible to think of a single one as she tilted her chin and raised up on her toes.

“Call me Bramble,” she whispered. Her dark gaze flicked to my mouth.

Memories filled my head of that same dark gaze as she came all over my fingers. I craved her soft moans and the flush of her cheeks. I needed to undo her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the most essential.

That’s what friends were for, right? I’d be whatever kind of friend she wanted me to be, and nothing more.

“Sure, Bramble,” I said, my throat tight. “Anything you⁠—”

She fisted the collar of my shirt and yanked hard on my neck, crashing her mouth against mine. It was rough and probing, and not even a little bit friendly. Maybe there was anger there, but I couldn’t tell. It was a fight, a demand, and a claim. Or maybe that’s what I wanted it to be.

But I’d be whatever she needed, that’s what I’d decided. And she clearly needed something from me. I told myself it didn’t matter how much I wanted her or what that could mean beyond these walls.

I backed her into the door, cupped her ass, and slid my fingers up into her soaked panties. She gasped. I wasn’t gentle. I couldn’t be gentle, not when my whole body was shaking, not when her mouth was on my neck or when she whimpered and rocked her clit harder into my hand.

She tore at my pants with the same desperation I felt. The sooner I was inside of her, the sooner I could breathe again.

She freed my cock, pulled back, and tore at a tiny square. A condom. It was the color of bubble gum, which I’d never seen before.

Her hands trembled ever so slightly.

She gave me a nervous smile. “Strawberry.”

Why did she have a strawberry condom in her dress pocket? I prayed it had been intended for me, but the last thing I wanted to do was bring up the possibility that it wasn’t. And thank fuck she had it. But I didn’t know if her nerves were hesitation, and I needed to.

“We don’t have to do this,” I said softly. “We can stop.” It might kill me, but I’d do it.

“Shhh,” she said.

I took the condom and slid it over my length. She pulled me flush against her, ran her hand over my erection, and scraped her teeth on my neck.

My brain short circuited. I pushed my fingers into her.

“Yes, yes, oh my yes,” she panted.

She was so fucking tight.

“Not much time,” she said.

Right, because all we had were stolen moments hidden away from the world. Because on the other side of this door, none of this was real.

“Inside me, now,” she said. Then softer, “Please, Jasper.”

I wasn’t sure which was hotter, the demand or the plea. But in a fervor of desperation, I tore her panties aside, lifted her by her thighs, and plunged into her.

She cried out the most delicious sound I’d ever heard and wrapped her arms over my shoulders and locked her legs around me. She tilted her hips, taking me deeper, and there aren’t words to describe the perfection of her tight pussy clenching my cock like this.

I covered her mouth and nipped her ear. “Quiet, Bramble, or someone will hear.”

She licked my palm.

That hot, wet tongue, paired with the mischievous, hungry look in her dark eyes—it shoved aside whatever shreds of restraint I’d had left. I slammed into her as she licked my palm.

There was no more self-preservation. She turned me into a feral beast. She clawed at my back, taking it, encouraging me to give her more.

There was no restraint anymore. I gave her everything that I had, everything that I was. We were raw heat and motion, two bodies slamming together in desperate fervor. I devoured her.

Her breath hitched and she clung harder to me, clenching and moaning. I needed to come, the heat and pressure building too fast, like it had on the beach with her. But I needed her to come first. I needed her satisfied and content.

A knock came from the other side of the door.

No.

Frustration burst through my chest, and I wanted to punch something.

“Stop and I’ll murder you,” Esme whispered to me.

I rolled my hips forward and back slowly.

She nodded and closed her eyes. I grabbed onto her small breast, flicking my thumb back and forth over her hard nipple.

“Yes?” I called, my voice like gravel.

Esme chewed her bottom lip and a fresh blush crept up her cheeks.

“Just checking you didn’t get stuck in the toilet,” a deep voice said.

It took a moment for me to register who the voice belonged to, my cock still deep inside Esme. I couldn’t handle thinking about anything but the feel of her soft body pinned against mine, or the heat and tightness with which she gripped me.

“Thanks for that,” I said to Chester, as lightly as I could.

Esme snorted.

“I’m good,” I said. “You can go now.”

“You sure?” Chester asked.

“Leave me alone.”

“Fine. I’ll piss outside,” he said.

Esme laughed, this time covering her own mouth in time to suppress the noise.

The sound of footsteps suggested Chester was gone.

“Do you think he knows?” Esme asked, her voice soft with a hint of worry. “Do you think they all know?”

“No.” I hoped not. But if we didn’t return soon, they definitely would notice. I hated to say it, so I rolled my hips as I did. “Should we go back?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Not until you finish what you started.”

Thank you, universe. She said it like a challenge, one I gladly followed through on. “If that’s what you want.”

“Shut up. Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?” I asked as I thrust into her hard again.

She gasped. “Like this is only for me. You can’t ruin it with your nice guy BS. This isn’t nice. And I need this.”

I bit back my protests and fucked her hard and fast. Being kind wasn’t bullshit. It was who I was. She liked me well enough to have sex. That meant something, didn’t it?

“You should always get what you need,” I said.

She covered my mouth with her small hand and tilted her head back against the door.

She didn’t want my niceness, so I gave her the rest of what I had. I was nothing if not skilled in giving women what they wanted in the sack.

So I used the skills I had, and worked her clit as I fucked her. I memorized the soft expression on her face and the way her fingers clenched and unclenched around my neck as she came closer to finding her release. I memorized the sounds of her hitching breath and the way she squirmed against me for that one last push.

She came in a hard rush that broke down every barrier I’d built around my heart, leaving me feeling like the one who was open and vulnerable.

Doubt lingered in the back of my head. I told myself I was only concerned that someone would find out what we were doing. I pushed the worry away. I ran my hands all over her, needing more, feeling like even while I was inside of her, I couldn’t get enough.

Then I built her up again, more easily this time than the last, since I knew exactly how she needed to be touched. And as she came, gasping my name and holding onto me like I was a lifeline, I let myself get lost in the moment and found my own release.

And as our bodies settled together, I said, “I will be here for you, Bramble. Always.”

TWENTY-TWO

ESME

My body still thrumming, I shoved Jasper off and grabbed some toilet paper to clean up.

I’d had sex in a bathroom.

At Gabe’s rehearsal dinner.

With Jasper.

Each clause made my heart rate shoot up faster and faster. My brain was buzzing. I’d just had the absolute best sex of my entire life in a freaking public bathroom, and I should have been ecstatic about the amazing physical sensations that I’d just experienced, but I couldn’t focus on that.

Even with the very physical elation still ping ponging through my nerves, and the ache of Jasper’s massive size still aching between my legs.

Not after what he’d said. Now that we were no longer banging out our tension, my brain was coming way too into focus way too fast.

And apparently my brain considered my recent decisions a trainwreck…with a spaceship, and a comet, all of it coming together to explode the entire solar system. Oh, I was feeling regret over another impulsive decision? Big surprise there.

I will be here for you, Bramble. Always.

That’s what he’d said to me. Like he wasn’t going back to a different country in three days, like he expected me to believe I wasn’t really alone.

I was pregnant. I didn’t know who the father was.

I was alone.

It was dishonest to imply otherwise. False security didn’t help anyone. Fake comfort hurt.

“What was that supposed to mean?” I asked. I didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation, even though it did.

“Which part?” He threw me a soft smile that I was completely unprepared to untangle. Did he seriously not know what I meant? Or did he think I could be asking what the sex meant, because clearly it had to mean nothing.

Sex with a friend should be awesome, but we weren’t friends, even if he said we were. During dinner, he hadn’t even been willing to support me and tell Gabe that yes, he’d been my friend first.

I couldn’t stand the thought of another broken promise from this man. It’s what ruined us when we were kids. I knew better now, didn’t I?

“Never mind,” I said. We couldn’t get into this right now. Maybe never. We were still locked in a bathroom together with my brother and plenty of other potential witnesses sitting in the restaurant outside this door. There was an escape we needed to plan. “Who should go out first? Me. I came in last. I’m smaller. Stealthier.”

“Stealthier? If you crawl out of this bathroom on hands and knees, that’s much more likely to attract attention than if you just walk out like a normal person.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. It didn’t crinkle his nose. It was fake.

I didn’t have the bandwidth to untangle that either.

Still, his point was probably true. Chester had already shown up and banged on the door. Who would be next? Everyone could be looking around, waiting for the two of us to come out.

I scanned the small space, wishing I could flush myself down the toilet. That would solve the problem. I’d just ride down like a turd and crawl out of the sewer to freedom.

Too bad the hole was so small.

But then I spotted a tiny window above the toilet. Bingo.

I pointed. “I’m going through there.”

“No.”

No? Seriously? “I’m not asking permission. You can help me, or you can get out of my way.”

Jasper sighed. “Same old Bramble.”

Something inside of me snapped. I knew the exact words he’d said, they registered, but what I heard was you’re still that stupid kid making stupid choices you didn’t think through. And that hit way too close to home.

“You seemed to like same old Bramble just fine a minute ago,” I said, “while your dick was in me.”

I watched his pretty green eyes go wide as my words registered. He had no right to judge me when we both just did what we did.

He put his hands up in defense. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out like I intended.”

Come out, ha.

“Yeah, you came in.” And as soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them.

It wasn’t the words that were harsh and belittled what we’d shared. It was my tone. It was the way I continued to attack while he was trying to apologize. Honestly, I’d gotten exactly what I’d needed in the moment even if I couldn’t admit that out loud now.

I’d been proving a point, that he was mine from the beginning. I’d been chasing the same stress relief and distraction he’d offered me on the beach. And while we were actually having sex, I’d felt a sense that this is what friendship between us could be. It felt full of promise and possibility.

And then he had to go and make a promise he would break. It was easier and safer to pretend all of it meant nothing.

He was giving me this weird, disturbed look, then he just laughed. “All right. You go through the window. But I can’t come after you. There’s no way I’ll fit.”

The look in his eyes suggested he was worried, like I was some fragile thing, like I should be treated differently because there was a tiny pecan-sized baby inside of me. He hadn’t seemed to think I was fragile a few minutes ago.

“And what about the landing?” he asked. “If you fall⁠—”

And there it was. “If you say something about my condition, I swear I will⁠—”

“Murder me?”

This time his smile crinkled at the top of his nose and the corners of his eyes.

I’d said that I would murder him if he stopped, while we were having sex. And now he was going to make sure I didn’t forget it. It was like the dude was taking a play from my playbook.

“Sure,” I said, unaffected. “Let’s go with that.”

His smile faded into sincerity. “I don’t want you to fall and get hurt.”

“I’m like a cat,” I told him, as I climbed up on the toilet and fought the window’s lock.

“The cat who got killed by curiosity?”

“No.” I rolled my eyes and kept prying at the stupid lock that wouldn’t budge.

“The cat who kept dying to prove he had nine lives?”

“No.” I sighed because this stupid lock was impossible and I would not ask for help. “I always land on my feet.”

“If you say so. But I can recall more than once that you⁠—”

“Shut. It.” I snapped my fingers and glared at him, then magically, the lock gave way. I pushed open the window.

How many times had I shushed him since we entered this bathroom? More times than I had in the rest of the last fifteen years we’d known each other, probably.

A set of big, strong hands wrapped around my thighs, startling me, and I bumped my head on the glass.

“What are you doing?” I growled.

“Helping.”

“More like molesting. That’s not what I need right now.” Except maybe some extra molestation wouldn’t be so bad. I was still capable of standing, so maybe I could handle another delicious Jasper-delivered orgasm.

No. No thoughts like that. Stupid insatiable hormones.

I looked through the window for signs of Chester, but he didn’t seem to be anywhere around, which was good, because I should have thought about that before saying words like molesting in front of the open window.

Since the coast was clear, there was no reason to delay this whole escape thing.

It wasn’t too far down, just a few feet. I’d twist on my way out and land on my feet like the cat I’d proclaimed myself to be. Easy peasy.

I propped my elbows on the sill and tried to pull myself up a bit, testing the frame.

Jasper lifted along with me, supporting my weight, his thumbs curled between my thighs just inches from my aching pussy. And I didn’t want to think about that. I wanted to escape.

But my already sore boobs squished against the wall and even though I’d only lifted my feet an inch off the toilet seat, stupid tears of defeat threatened to rise up and out of my face.

I would never admit it out loud, but Jasper was right.

This was a dumb idea, and I could squish my stomach too hard while I squirmed like a fat sea cucumber through the too-small opening. Or I could make it through, fall wrong, and break my neck or my uterus. Maybe both. That was a thing that could happen…possibly?

I’d spent too much effort trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t pregnant that I hadn’t learned yet what to do now that I’d admitted that I was actually pregnant. I’d have to make another appointment with Dr. Squailly. I would read the books or blogs or whatever publications I was supposed read to get my info. I’d do all the right things as soon as I survived my brother’s wedding and everyone left me alone exactly like I wanted them to.

A knot formed in my stomach, and I wasn’t sure if it was a stress knot or a precursor-to-vomit knot.

Either way, I couldn’t do this window escape.

“Change of plans,” I said. “Stop fondling me. And you go out first.”

“I told you I can’t fit through the window.”

Was he teasing me? His stupidly pretty sparkling eyes suggested maybe.

“Through the door.” I pointed.

“Okay.”

He gave me a small shrug and a bit of a grin that could have been smug, or maybe just amused. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t charming, no matter what he thought. It was frustrating.

I waited until he was gone, then I deflated.

I checked myself in the mirror. My cheeks were pink, my hair mussed. I splashed cold water on my face, pulled my hair up, and stared at my reflection.

I looked like my whole life hadn’t just changed. I looked like me, when in reality my world had been so deeply rocked that it flew out of orbit and skyrocketed into a different universe. I would never be the same.

All previous sexual encounters, which I’d thought were mediocre, had proved to be shamefully inadequate. Like on a scale of have-you-ever-used-your-dick-before to mind-blowing-sex, I would have put them somewhere in the middle, solid meh experiences.

But now, now I had to put every other man or boy who’d ever so much as winked in my general direction as sad. They fell below shamefully inadequate as soon as Jasper showed up on the scale.

They weren’t worth a rating. Maybe like negative two, are-you-sure-that-counts as-wielding-a-penis-level experiences. Pathetic.

First Contact didn’t count of course. It didn’t deserve a rating because I still preferred to pretend it hadn’t happened.

But why did Jasper have to feel so good? Why did I have to carry the ache of him in my legs and deep between? It was a reminder that he’d claimed my body as thoroughly as I’d meant to claim his.

And after hanging out a little while longer before slipping back out of the bathroom, it was clear that he wasn’t affected at all.

He easily laughed and carried on with conversation, not even glancing in my direction. He was his usual, casual, Graffiti Surfer Ken with no cares in the world.

I was the only one whose entire world had been shattered.

I was the only one who thought that stupid promise meant something, even though I didn’t want to.

Because of course. He did this kind of thing all of the time. He had casual sex with every eligible woman who entered his vicinity. He didn’t get attached. He didn’t have feelings.

Just look at what he did to Jules.

I was the only one who felt like it had meant anything at all. I knew this. I saw it coming, and I had sex with him anyway. And that made me feel like a total idiot.

The next day as I prepped the bar for my shift, I sucked it up like the boss of my life that I was, and checked my calendar to calculate exactly how pregnant I was.

Thirteen weeks.

Crap on a cracker. That meant I wasn’t in my first trimester anymore, but had breached right into the second. That meant no more fake periods, probably.

I sliced lemons and kept on reading, maintaining my outer calm in case Rufus poked his head out of the kitchen or someone walked through the front door.

According to the interwebs, the second trimester was when the barfy stage was supposed to wind down. That was something at least. Another site said that everyone was different and that some people ended up feeling sick and barfy for the entire forty weeks. Ugh.

Everyone agreed I needed to take vitamins. I was already on a gummy multivitamin, so at least I’d gotten that bit right. And there was tons of stuff not to do, like drinking and smoking, which I already didn’t do. I didn’t see climbing through bathroom windows on any list, but I figured I’d made the right call there, too. Another mental high five.

I needed to give myself all the props I could for every tiny win, because there was so so sooo much I was doing wrong, like having sex with a stranger at a costume party thirteen weeks ago, and having sex with my brother’s best friend during my brother’s wedding festivities. Why did my biggest mistakes have to be sex related? It made me feel like a sex-crazed monster. Me, who has had three partners ever.

Just as I was sliding from congratulating myself to full self-flagellation mode, Sage slipped onto the stool in the corner. I pretended I didn’t see her right away even though she was clearly watching me. Her thick glasses magnified both her bushy gray, thoroughly furrowed brows and her somehow both needle-sharp and cloudy blue eyes.

It was an ambush. She was waiting for her moment to strike.

I stealth flicked the browser on my phone closed and delivered the lemon slices to their container.

Sage cleared her throat with the kind of emphasis that said she most definitely did not have anything lodged in there and also most definitely was waiting for me to acknowledge her presence.

“Hi, Sage. I didn’t see you there,” I lied.

“Yes you did.”

“Yes I did.”

First, on Friday, she’d caught me buying those weird strawberry condoms. Then, Monday, she’d been all there’s a surprise in the near future for one of you while shooting me a clearly knowing look through her cloudy irises. And I’d felt exposed, like she could see my secrets etched into my face.

She couldn’t really know that I was pregnant though, right? Suspect, sure. But she always suspected all kinds of things. It was her whole jam. But she couldn’t know for sure. I mean I just found out.

“You just found out,” she said, scarily like the psychic she claimed to be. “But you’re afraid to talk about it, because that makes it real. So you figured you’d ignore me and maybe your whole situation would go away.”

I’d be offended if her accusation wasn’t one-hundred-percent on point.

“No,” I said, because I had to say something, though the lift in my voice made it sound more like a question than a statement.

Standing here now, I realized that when Sage had ambushed me in her fortune teller hut with a knowing look, I’d felt attacked. But when Jasper had flat out told me he’d walked into my private home and messed with my private pee stick, I’d felt relieved to have someone to share my secret with. Sage was supposed to be my friend. Jasper wasn’t. So why wasn’t I just fessing up now? It’s not like Sage wouldn’t be here to see my belly blow up like a balloon, or like I could lie about what was going on forever. It’s a burrito belly only worked for so long. And then, there would be a whole new person living with me. What did I plan to do then, hide the little pecan from the world forever?

The difference between Sage and Jasper was history. Jasper and I might not always have been friends, but our lives had been entwined since the beginning. It was like talking to a brother, almost, only nothing like talking to my actual brother, and also ew, because Jasper and I had done dirty filthy things to each other.

Thinking about those dirty things only made me want to do more of them. And that was not where my mind was supposed to be heading.

“Perhaps speaking in hypotheticals would feel safer,” Sage mused. “Like if a friend of mine was hypothetically pregnant, and only just found out, how do you think she might be holding up?”

“Okay,” I said, again sounding more like a question than a statement. But this did feel safer. It was a good way to ease into sharing my new reality with one of the friends who would be here to support me through it.

Jasper was going home. Gabe was going home. Sage would be here.

Sage folded her hands together on the bar. “The fact that my friend ran away from home, only to have the person she ran from show up at this critical time in her life, must be stressful for her.”

I got to work on a pitcher of Sage’s usual virgin margaritas. And while I didn’t have to look at her knowing eyes, it was easier to say, “Your friend didn’t run away from anyone.”

Even without looking, I knew Sage raised a brow.

“Your friend ran to adventure, to build something of her own,” I said, with a quick glance in her direction. Sure enough, she was doing the I-know-that’s-not-true brow raise.

“And away from the overbearing brother who makes her feel like she can’t have those things back home,” Sage said.

Had I run away? Not really, right? I mean…kind of, yes.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “And she found out literally days ago about this big life change that was happening to her. And she wasn’t ready to share that with anyone.”

Sage nodded in that knowingly Sage way. “If, hypothetically, all of this were true, I should hope my friend would know that there are people here to support her no matter what she decides to do.”

Of course she would support me. Of course I could talk to her. Sage knew everyone’s secrets and she didn’t go around spreading them…too much. Plus, this secret wasn’t going to stay secret forever, anyway.

I poured her a glass of her favorite drink, summoned a deep breath filled with bravery, and looked my friend in the eye. “I’m having the baby.”

She smiled and tapped her hand over mine. “I gathered that, honey.”

“How?”

“You’re cradling your flat little tummy right now.”

I looked down and dropped my hand, then looked back at Sage, ready to say something stupid and defensive that I hadn’t figured out yet.

She took a sip of her drink, smacked her lips and said, “I’d understand if you decide to go back to the states to be with the father, and be nearer to the grandmother who raised you, but if you don’t want⁠—”

That wasn’t what I wanted. I might not have everything figured out, but I knew that much.

“There’s no father,” I said. “None that matters anyway.”

She tipped her chin in acknowledgment. “I raised three boys by myself, and even through the toughest times, I don’t regret it for a second.”

I knew about her boys, but not that she’d raised them alone.

“It was just my dad for me,” I said. “My mom abandoned me and my brother for some new family. Then after Dad died, Oma was my guardian.”

My uncle helped out sometimes. Gabe helped more.

“Even when you’re alone, no one can do it all by themselves,” Sage said. “It takes a village and all that.”

“I can,” I said. “I can do anything without help.”

“Well just in case, you know where to find me. I always wanted a daughter.”

The warmth in her words and in her smile drew a smile out of me in return.

A bang pulled my attention to the door.

Mona Maloney stormed toward the bar with even more I-need-to-speak-with-the-manager vibes than usual. I hadn’t thought much about her over the past few days. I’d hoped she’d left the island by now.

“This should be good.” Sage took a long sip through her straw and turned to watch Mona.

Good? Probably not. Interesting? For sure.

“Someone thinks they’re a comedian.” Mona pulled out her phone from her purse and flashed the screen at Sage and then me. On it was a familiar sight: the tiki statue Jasper and I had found on the resort roof. Mona’s cat-eye glasses were propped awkwardly on the tiki man’s face.

Currently, those glasses were on Mona’s face, though they did look a bit crooked. That was new.

“I didn’t take your husband for having a sense of humor,” Sage said. “He always seems stunned and confused.”

“He is,” Mona said. “Fred did not do this.”

“Congratulations on finding your glasses,” I told her.

“Someone else is responsible,” she said, ignoring me. “They must be brought to justice.”

“The most obvious answer is usually the correct one,” Sage said. “Fred had access and motivation.”

“Motivation?” Mona scowled at Sage. “If you’re implying my husband wants me to be upset, you’re dead wrong.”

“Then you’ve accepted the obvious conclusion,” Sage said.

Mona crossed her arms over her chest. “And what exactly is that?”

With another sip of her drink and a small shrug, Sage said, “Ghosts.”

I held back a snort, but just barely. “That would explain the statue. Those things are ridiculously heavy. I hear the one by the door here had to be brought in by crane.”

“Actually, it broke the crane and they had to build the bar around the statue,” Sage said. “I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“I hate this place.” Mona glared at Sage before turning her ire on me. “Make me a pitcher of piña coladas.”

“Sure,” I said, and started prep.

“It’s the only way to keep my sanity,” Mona said.

Sage rolled her eyes, rested her chin on her hand to hide her expression, and mouthed she lost that a long time ago.

I pressed my lips together and did not laugh.

“I’ll be waiting on the patio,” Mona said, and sauntered out the back. It was an angry, stompy saunter.

Sage smirked at me. “You should spit in her drink.”

“Probably,” I said, “but I don’t do that.”

“I’ll give you five bucks if you let me do it.”

I chuckled and kept at my task. “Tempting.”

“Don’t spit in the drinks or I’ll fire you both,” Rufus yelled from the kitchen.

“I don’t work for you,” Sage yelled back.

“I didn’t say it would be from a job,” Rufus volleyed back. “I only said there’d be fire involved.”

Sage shook her head. “He’s all bark.”

“I know,” I said. “But to be clear, we still won’t be spitting in any drinks.”

“Fine.”

A thought occurred to me then. I hadn’t asked Sage about the whispers yet. “Hey, do you know anyone who used to be a soap opera star?”

She snapped her gaze to mine, and there was a sharpness there that disarmed me.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Ghosts,” I said.

“What else did you hear?”

“That there’s a biscuit bandit,” I said. “Do you know anything about that?”

She rolled her shoulders and looked to the side. “No.”

“You do.”

“You should let that go,” she said.

“Why exactly?”

“Yah!” A war-cry bellowed out of the kitchen.

A lizard raced around the corner, over the wall. I dropped what I was doing and dove into action. I reached out for it, but Rufus was already there, pan mid-swing.

There was no way I could catch the lizard in time. Even if I did, there was no way for him not to see me hide the little guy in my pocket.

Without a second thought, I slid between Rufus and the lizard, flashed my biggest smile, and prayed it would be enough.

“Hey, Rufus,” I said.

His feet skidded to a halt, his pan slammed against the wall, missing my fingers by an inch.

My heart pounded in my throat.

“Get outta the way,” he said.

“What?” I said, playing innocent.

He ducked and weaved, and I kept myself in front of him, matching him step for step.

“Sorry, are you trying to get past?”

“Gah!” He threw his hands in the air and ran around the other way back toward the kitchen.

I cringed and waited and hoped I’d done enough to buy the little guy some time. My pulse pounded and time seemed to slow down as I listened for the smash and Rufus’s subsequent hoot of murderous victory.

But seconds passed. Pots and pans clashed in the kitchen. Then silence.

No hoot followed.

I waited on baited breath.

“Rufus, where’s your spatula?” Sage asked.

“Missing,” he said.

“The anole smasher? That’s weird,” I said.

“I know what you’re up to.” He waved a finger at me.

“I didn’t take your spatula.”

He put his hands on his hips and flattened his mouth into a line. “Maybe. But you let that vermin get away.”

“And almost got hurt in the process,” Sage said under her breath with a very I’m-not-mad-just-disappointed look at me.

She’d never looked at me like that before. So many people had—Oma, Gabe, Uncle Wallace, my first-grade teacher Mrs. Calloway, and oh so many teachers after her. But never one of my friends.

I appreciated Sage’s concern for my well-being. I really did. But also, I could handle it. I could handle everything. And I was going to be just fine.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and caught a glimpse of the dent in the wall that could have been in my hand.

Or what if it had been my belly?

Panic or regret or something altogether unpleasant prickled across my skin and twisted in my stomach. I repeated to myself, I have everything under control.

TWENTY-THREE

JASPER

Calm, crystalline water stretched in every direction. I sat on my rented surfboard and stared up at the clear blue sky.

While the waves were nonexistent, I was getting everything I’d wanted—surfing and bonding time with my brother and my best friend. I should have been content.

But there was an emotional screw turning slowly, digging deeper into my chest.

Esme hadn’t been at breakfast. Every interaction and conversation felt different without her, duller and lighter at the same time. The morning had been perfectly nice. Without her around, no one was teasing me or pressuring me or causing conflict when there didn’t need to be any.

And I missed all of it. I missed her.

It was ridiculous. I’d seen her just last night.

I’d never missed someone after a few hours apart before, and I didn’t care for it.

I should have been chasing after Gabriel, enjoying easy conversation about how excited he was to start his new married life. Instead, my mind wandered to what Esme might be doing at work.

Was she feeling queasy, glad to have a break from the pressure of the wedding festivities, or did she feel like she was missing out? Or was she smiling, not thinking about me at all, as she laughed about some stupid thing her musician friend said?

“What did you do?”

I blinked and found Oscar in the water beside me. Despite the accusation in his words, his tone was neutral. So was his expression.

Did he know about Esme? A spike of concern sent my gaze searching for Gabriel, who I spotted swimming out of earshot.

Better not to guess and spill something I shouldn’t.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” I told Oscar.

His mismatched eyes assessed me. “Jules hasn’t been around since Saturday.”

This was Wednesday. From his point of view, my date had been missing for four days without explanation.

“Why do you think I did something?” I asked, genuinely curious. Was I behaving suspiciously? I didn’t think so. I really hoped not.

“You’re a Carrington, Jasper. What am I supposed to think?”

Ah, there it was.

“Default must be that I’m some kind of villain.” I nodded. “I have good old Dad to thank for that.”

“We both do.”

“You turned out all right, all things considered.”

“A head injury and amnesia were to be the best things to happen to me. That’s healthy.”

“Morgan was the best thing to happen to you,” I countered.

He grunted his agreement. “Jules is not your Morgan.”

“No.”

“You didn’t somehow manage to kill her with kindness, did you?”

A bubble of laughter burst from my chest. “How would that even work?”

“You tell me. Niceness is your thing.”

“She’s fine as far as I know,” I said. “I haven’t seen her in a few days, either.”

Again, he assessed me, like if he scowled hard enough, the rest of the story would fill itself in.

“You brought her here because you felt pressured to, not because you wanted to,” he said.

I nodded. “It was a mistake.”

“And she realized this?”

“I told her.”

He blinked. “You?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…very unlike you.”

“I guess,” I said, because it was. If I had to guess before we left how I’d handle the situation here, I would have assumed I’d have ridden it out without a word of my discomfort. Usually I kept the peace, no matter what.

The last few days I’d made a whole slew of decisions that didn’t fit my usual behavior.

Oscar’s one green eye and one brown eye burrowed into my skull. I could feel the questions swirling in his head. He wanted to ask where Jules had gone and what exactly had transpired. He wanted to ask what else was going on with me. Even if he asked, I didn’t have any real answers.

But Gabriel rejoined us.

And Oscar didn’t ask.

It seemed everyone was content to let my romantic ineptitude slide. I appreciated that. My failings weren’t supposed to be the focus of this week.

As the day went on, a pull kept me from feeling completely a part of the activities. I participated in the guided tour through the tropical forest to a hidden waterfall. Juno snapped pictures. I smiled and sat on the rocks at the edge of the water. We shared lunch and dinner. I ate it without really tasting anything.

And my mind remained tethered on the one person who wasn’t here with us and should have been.

I will be here for you, Bramble. Always.

My words repeated in my head. Why’d I have to go and say that? Why make a promise I couldn’t keep?

I was supposed to leave the island in two days. But she would come home to Epiphany eventually, wouldn’t she? Of course she would. She couldn’t have a baby here, all on her own.

And, this point couldn’t be emphasized enough, Esme was having a baby.

Even if she came home with us after the trip was over, what would that mean? I could have a chance with her, sure, maybe. But her life was about to turn upside down.

She was having another man’s baby.

And if I actually dated her, what happened when that infant turned into a toddler, then a kid? What happened when the little person started looking up at me as more than his mom’s friend.

What if he looked at me as a father?

The thought made my entire body freeze mid-step in a terrifying choke hold.

Could I really offer anything to a kid? After the father I had? Unlikely.

I was getting way ahead of myself with this whole line of thought anyway. Esme hadn’t asked me for anything. Not yet, at least. What did the future matter when we didn’t actually have a present?

We were screwing around. Having fun. That’s all I ever did, and she knew what kind of man I was. She’d called me a womanizer, after all.

She knew I wasn’t father material. I could never be the man she deserved, the one her kid deserved.

My chest felt tight. I needed to clear my mind. I needed a way to reset.

I needed a real shower, not just a quick clean-off in the cold outdoors. I needed hot water. I needed my own soap, not a generic bar from the resort store.

Jules hadn’t been around anyway, so what would it hurt to go back to my room and do just that? I’d pack up the belongings that hadn’t gone missing with my luggage, then I’d suck it up and ask someone if I could stay with them. Two nights sleeping on the beach was enough.

I’d ask Oscar if I could crash on his couch. He’d understand, or he’d tell me to get lost. Either way, he wouldn’t say yes just to humor me the way I would if I were in his position.

On my way, I stopped and checked with Stan at the desk to see if they’d had any luck finding my bag. They had not.

I went up the elevator and headed down the hall toward my room. I opened the door.

Sounds assaulted my ears—wet slapping, guttural howls, honking like that of a bike horn. But the sight—that would be searing into my retinas forever.

Jules was on all fours, a tiny saddle affixed to her back with a stuffed parrot rocking back and forth in the seat. Behind her, Chester dug his hands into her hips and thrust.

Jules’s eyes were shut as she fisted the blankets. The mattress slammed into the wall.

Chester wore nothing but an orange pirate hat and fake beard. Both appeared to be made of cheddar.

Where was the honking coming from?

“Arrr,” Chester said. “Thar she blows.”

There were no words. My mind blanked in shock and horror and maybe a touch of morbid fascination. It was impossible to blink, to move, to breathe.

Chester’s gaze snapped to mine. “Aye, matey. Want to join?”

I took a step back, then another.

Jules looked at me. A wicked smile curved across her lips.

My back slammed into the wall.

I twisted on my heel, the image still seared into my brain. And I ran. I didn’t know where I was going. All I knew was I needed to be away from here.

Far far away.

My lungs and my calves burned.

I should have been mad, should have thrown the pair of them out of my room. But everything I thought I should have felt—anger, jealousy, anything really—I felt none of it.

Halfway down the road, I burst into laughter.

It was the only logical reaction. Vomiting would have been appropriate, too. The first thing I wanted to do now was tell Esme all about it.

A weird energy sparked through my limbs as I walked the rest of the way to her place. I reached the porch and noticed the lights were on.

Good, she was home.

I couldn’t wait to see her, couldn’t wait to share.

Through the open window I heard laughter—not just Esme’s, but a man’s, too.

A lump formed in my throat.

“But in all seriousness, Es, I need to tell you something,” the man said.

And I knew who it had to be—Ziggy, the musician. The weird elation I’d felt on the way here slowly blew out of me with every breath I took.

I should knock on the door, let them know I was here. But I couldn’t.

“Spit it out,” she said.

“It’ll sound better through song.”

“Fine. Dazzle me.”

I felt sick. I should just leave. I couldn’t manage to do that, either. It was like my feet were cemented to the porch.

Ukulele music played. “Shaded beneath the palms, beside the ocean blue,” Ziggy sang. “Startling as a seagull's coo, my heart fluttered and flew.”

No, this wasn’t happening. Walk away, legs. Now.

“Life's a beach, with you, it's true,” he sang. “Esme, I love you.”

It felt like a grenade went off in my chest, shredding everything in its path. All the emotions I should have been feeling before, I felt them now.

I didn’t care if Jules and Chester banged. But this, hearing another man profess love for Esme…it broke me.

Furious and gutted, I stepped back into the sand.

It was a mistake to come here, one of so many mistakes lately. I just couldn’t seem to stop screwing up when it came to Esme.

TWENTY-FOUR

ESME

This wasn’t happening. No freaking way was this actually happening.

Ziggy did not love me.

With his foot propped up on my coffee table, Ziggy’s crotch was three feet from my face. His striped pants were too tight, clearly outlining his banana and coconuts. I sat on the couch frozen, unable to look away or even blink.

I pressed my head back hard against the cushion and wished through force of will I could transport myself anywhere else. Maybe if I wished hard enough for it, a portal would open up and suck me in. I’d land alone on a deserted island, free from this torture. Ooh, maybe a mountaintop nunnery, where I could hide between puffy coat layers and a vow of silence.

Ziggy strummed his ukulele and swung his hips. “Ohhhh, Esme can’t you see? Your heart, it belongs to me. When I’m with you, I feel so free. My love for you is like a manatee.”

A manatee? What was that supposed to mean?

Much more of this singing and gyrating, and my brain would melt. I’d rather be transported to the center of an active volcano than listen to another line. “Ziggy, please don’t do this.”

He kept right on singing like he hadn’t heard me, even though he definitely had.

How did we even get here? He’d stopped by. Everything was normal, we were talking, and he’d had an excited spark in his eyes. Then this bizarre alternate reality that could not be my life crashed down on my head. Maybe Ziggy was under the influence of too much caffeine. Maybe there was carbon monoxide leaking into the house and we were both hallucinating.

Try as I might to accept one of my grasping, desperate explanations, I had to accept reality. And I needed to force Ziggy to do the same.

With a deep breath, I shoved Ziggy’s knee off the table and shot up to my feet. No way was I having this conversation with his bulge in my face. “Stop!”

He slowly ceased his strumming, and the elated expression on his face melted into concern.

“You are not in love with me,” I said. “How about this—you walk out that door, and when we see each other next, we both pretend you never stopped by tonight.”

His concern sharpened for a moment before his usual easy smile retook his face. “I can’t do that. How about a counter offer—you listen to the whole song before responding. Now that the flow’s interrupted, I have to start over at the beginning.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m fun. You’re fun. We have fun together,” he said.

“You can’t love me. You hardly know me.”

He grinned wider and wagged his brows. “Imagine how much more fun we could be having. It’s inevitable. The chemistry between us, Es—it’s molten.”

The contents of my stomach were molten. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before they spewed. He wasn’t listening to me, and the number one rule of my new life was that I was in control. I refused to tolerate any man ignoring what I said, even if Ziggy was harmless.

“You need to go,” I told him.

He tilted his head slightly to the side like he couldn’t comprehend the words that I was saying. He put his foot back up on the table and cocked his ukulele. “This isn’t going right. I need to start at the beginning. Then you’ll see.”

Fury flared through my veins. No way was he going to subject me to more of this torture.

I had said he needed to go, he refused. Time to bring out the big guns. I knew just what to say to show him what a fool he was being.

“I’m pregnant.” I spit the words like acid.

And oh yes, they landed just as intended, like a chemical burn. The color immediately drained from Ziggy’s face. His lips flattened and his eyes went wide.

“I am not interested in you in that way. Now it’s time for you to leave.” I pointed at the door, a mix of emotion bubbling up in my gut.

I’d used my secret as a weapon.

I’d told someone the truth about my situation.

Secrets couldn’t stay secret if I started saying them out loud.

Ohmygoodness, what had I done?

“I’m…um…I didn’t know.” Ziggy hunched his shoulders and headed for the door, a wounded, pathetic puppy with his pouty lip hanging out. “I’ll just….”

As he clicked the door shut behind him, a storm of emotion rolled through me. How dare he say he loved me? He liked me, and only when he thought it would be easy and fun. He didn’t love me.

Love wasn’t abandonment. The more obstacles life threw at you, the tighter love held. I had Gabe and Oma to thank for my certainty of that. First Mom left us, then Dad died, but my family was there for me and I’d been there for them, too. That’s what love was supposed to be—suffocating at times, sure, but people who loved you had your back no matter what.

Maybe automatic rejection was my new normal. Maybe pregnancy, and then later having an actual kid relying on me, meant that no one would be romantically interested in me anymore.

Rationally I knew that wasn’t actually true, but in the moment, fresh from rejection, it felt like a possibility.

Ziggy had wanted me until he knew. Once I’d told him, he’d run like I had the plague. That’s what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? I wasn’t remotely interested in dating Ziggy, but watching him flee still stung my pride.

Agitation thrummed through my veins. It made my skin itchy and my legs restless. No way could I just sit here and stew in my thoughts.

I grabbed my keys and skateboard and headed outside. The cool night breeze did wonders to lighten the mess of frustrating stress settling on my shoulders. I breathed it in and let my worries out with it.

Without having set out with a destination in mind, I found myself heading to the resort and into the main building. The reason why I was here didn’t hit me until I was in the elevator jabbing the up button.

I was here for Jasper.

When Jasper found out I was pregnant, he hadn’t run away. He’d sought me out. He’d made sure I was all right, and he’d been there for me in a totally unexpected way.

Each step down the hall felt easier and lighter than the last.

Jasper was exactly what I needed right now. He was like an old blanket—warm and familiar. He accepted me. No matter how messed up I was feeling, he didn’t judge me.

He kept my secret.

He made me feel beautiful, wonderful things. He made me feel safe and heard.

I spotted a pile of luggage in the hall beside his door. A touch of worry prickled my skin. Was he leaving?

He couldn’t leave before the wedding.

I knocked on the door. “Jasper, are you in there?”

It took a few moments before he answered.

He had a glass in his hand, and his hair looked more tousled than usual. Still, he stole my breath with his hotness.

His eyes were a field of brambles, open and earnest and the softest shade of grassy green. Yet in that soft grass were prickly bits of brown vines that caught me when I ventured in and held me still when I wanted to pull away.

His scruff added a roughness to the lines of his jaw that were usually so sharp they could cut glass. He was ruggedly gorgeous, with a dirty mouth that did deliciously dirty things.

And when I looked at him, my heart beat at twice the rate it should. My breath caught and my nipples perked to alertness. Every inch of my skin prickled with awareness.

The very air around him crackled like lightning, and I found myself stepping closer as if tugged forward by a magnetic force.

He wasn’t an old blanket. He was a sparkly diamond I wanted to grab and pull close to my heart and covet like I was a depraved cave hobbit.

“Hey,” he said, making no move to let me in.

Speak, dummy.

I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat. “What’s with the luggage?”

Please don’t let him be leaving me, not yet. I’m not ready to say goodbye.

“Jules isn’t welcome in this room,” he said, finally opening the door all the way and stepping to the side so I could enter.

Right, Jules.

I stepped into his room without hesitation. “I can’t say I’m sad to hear that. But are you all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He let the door click shut behind him. “But don’t sit on the bed.”

I watched him. He looked agitated, moving like a predator, big and strong, and without any of his usual easy grace. Jasper was nothing if not easygoing, kind, and unbothered. If the building burst into flames, he would give a soft smile, promise everything was fine, and then easily carry me to safety…over his shoulder like a caveman while digging his fingers into my hip.

“I found Jules and Chester together,” he said.

That was sobering. But it had to sound different than it was.

“Together how?” I asked. Maybe they were sitting on the beach sipping mimosas side-by-side. They couldn’t be together together. “Chester’s in love with Juno, isn’t he?”

Jasper tipped back the rest of his glass and set it on the counter. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

This wasn’t like Jasper at all. He had no smile, no ease. His every movement was rough, tense.

It made my heart hurt.

He was really upset and I wanted to console him, but also what he said bothered me a bit. He wasn’t supposed to care about Jules.

The whole upset vibe he had going on suggested otherwise. Was there some other explanation?

I again tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it just lingered there.

“So they were having sex…in your bed.” I leaned against the counter, going for casual, pretending that I wasn’t mentally screaming. “And that feels like a violation of the not-at-all relationship you have with her?”

He pinned me in place with a look. “I don’t care about either of them.”

It didn’t sound like a lie.

Was I missing something?

“Well, you certainly seem hot and bothered,” I said.

He moved closer, stealing all the air from my lungs. The electricity around him stunned me in place and sizzled through my body. I stared up at him, at the intensity in his eyes, and I wanted to kiss away his hurt, starting with the stiffness in his lips, down that sharp chin, the corded muscles of his neck and strong shoulders.

“Why are you here, Esme?” he asked, not harshly, but not softly either.

“Because I wanted to see you.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Is there a problem with that?” I asked, growing more confused by the second.

“Of course not.”

He was too close not to be touching me, yet he wasn’t. Whatever he was thinking, he was holding back. That didn’t mean I had to. Maybe he needed me to be his security blanket, his warm happy familiarity.

I wanted to touch him, and I wanted to share what I came to tell him.

I placed a hand over his heart, let his warmth soak into my palm. I felt his heart, beating a little too fast, just like mine was. And I felt grounded.

“Ziggy came by my place,” I said. “He told me he loved me.”

His expression didn’t change. He didn’t react at all.

Did he not care that another man could possibly have romantic feelings for me? That someone else could love me?

“I of course told him to leave,” I said. “But he wouldn’t listen.”

That definitely caused a reaction. In a single breath, Jasper’s hands were on my shoulders. He looked me over like I might be bruised or something.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern softening his expression.

I wasn’t fragile, even if he thought I was.

“Of course I’m all right. He didn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t. He’s harmless,” I said.

“Anyway, the point I was trying to make was that I told him about the baby.”

Jasper’s eyes searched mine. He stilled.

“And he ran away,” I said.

“Asshole.”

“Totally,” I said, feeling both lighter and more nervous at the same time. “And while I wanted him to leave, it made me think about how different your reaction was.”

A small, self-satisfied grin spread over his face. “So you’re here for a repeat of Turtle Beach.”

I laughed. “What?”

He grabbed my hips and pulled me flush against him. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Turtle Beach.”

We were back to light and fun. We were back to him touching me, and so everything was the way it was supposed to be, right?

“Turtle Beach.” I tapped my chin. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, that’s not why I came here,” I said, my body on fire.

He glided his hands slowly down my ass and kissed my cheek slowly, softly. “Are you sure?”

No.

Please keep touching me.

I glanced toward the bed.

I definitely didn’t want to have sex where Jules and Chester had done it, where Jules and Jasper…I didn’t want to think about that. I shivered and pulled away. “Totally sure.”

He watched me with a look that said he knew I wanted him, but he would never push me.

It hit me then that it was ridiculous that I had worried that it was Jasper’s luggage in the hall. His suitcase was still missing.

“I thought you might want company hunting down your bag again,” I said. “Steal it back from the ghosts.”

“Sure, Bramble,” he said, his voice deliciously rough. “I’d like that.”

While we rode down the elevator, he held me close to his side, his hand possessively tight on my hip. I could get used to this. It was a dangerous thought, but it felt so good to feel so claimed, like his grip was a brand.

“You can’t sleep in the same sheets where Chester…sprayed his cheese,” I said.

He laughed. “I haven’t slept in the bed since I told Jules I wasn’t interested in her anymore.”

That was good, just like he’d said. “You slept…in Chester’s room? Even though Jules hasn’t been around until she showed up for the bang show.”

“I wanted to be clear. I think she was being clear, too. And I’ve slept on the beach, though sleep is a strong word for it.”

That sucked. He deserved a real sleep. “You think Jules is being clear that she’s claiming the room? Or that if you won’t bang her, she’ll find someone who will?”

“Both.”

“Do you think she was trying to make you jealous?”

He half-shrugged, his fingers once more flexing into my hip. Maybe he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“But even though you put her stuff in the hall, she could still come back. She has a keycard, right?”

“I had them change the cards at the desk. She’s not allowed back in the room and her key won’t work.”

More good news. “Do you think she’ll stay with Chester?”

“I don’t want to talk about Jules anymore,” he said, nuzzling my neck.

That surprise contact made me completely forget what I was saying anyway. His scruff scratched and the soft contact of his lips eased the burn. It was sweet with a bite, like chipotle chocolate.

I leaned my head back, allowing him better access. He slid his hand up from my hip, his fingers spreading over my stomach.

The doors opened, and I jolted upright with a gasp.

Jasper completely disengaged from me.

Everywhere he’d been, my neck, my stomach, turned cold.

No one was standing in the open doorway, but they could have been. Gabriel could have been.

We shared a look, then stepped a few feet apart. We remained that way for the rest of the way down and for the entire walk out of the building. When we reached the path, I snatched my skateboard from the grass where I’d left it and hopped on, leaving Jasper to walk beside me.

We were quiet all the way to the ruins, and this time, Jasper pulled a small set of wire cutters out of his pocket. He snipped a couple of wires to widen the hole he’d gone through before.

“Where did you get those?” I asked, not that I wasn’t thankful. I appreciated his forethought.

“Same place I bought the clothes on my back,” he said with a grin. “The resort shop.”

“It’s funny how everything you’re wearing looks like something you should be wearing. It’s almost like it’s the same stuff you’d pack in your suitcase.”

“I guess this place suits me,” he said. “But I like the ruins better than the resort.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Why?”

“Because it’s so full of potential.”

“It’s a wreck. It’s called the ruins.”

“That’s what’s so great about it. I wonder who owns it. I could put in an offer.”

“Uh, I didn’t see any for sale signs.”

“Everything’s for sale if you have enough money. Plus, it doesn’t seem like they’re doing anything with it. In my experience, owners consider it a blessing to get an offer on real estate in this condition. It takes trouble off their hands.”

I snorted. “So what, you consider yourself the landlord messiah?”

“No. I’m just a lover of overlooked gems searching for his next project. And this old girl has all the makings of something extraordinary.”

And what about me? Did he see me like his other projects in need of his special brand of rehab?

I watched him run and jump off one wall only to climb up onto an open second story room. He sat on the ledge, legs dangling, looking over the world around him as if it were a conquerable field of battle.

Everything he wanted could be his. That’s what he saw. Of course he’d feel that way. He’d become a freaking billionaire when he inherited a third of his father’s empire.

That was nothing like how I saw my world. If anything, this week proved that nothing I wanted could be mine.

Jasper didn’t have to compromise his dreams. I had to figure out new dreams, because there was no amount of distance from my brother that would change our relationship.

Jasper and I had grown far apart compared to our shared beginnings.

“After you get exactly what you want, everything always works out for you,” I said, half in question.

He chuckled and looked at me with a mixture of emotion I couldn’t decipher behind his eyes. He hopped back down and smiled at me with so much warmth that it felt like our differences didn’t matter at all.

“Not at all,” he said. “But that doesn’t stop me from trying.”

I took his hand and led him inside the ruins, and then I kissed him. Maybe because I wanted some of his easy, happy way of seeing the world to rub off on me. Or maybe because when he was touching me it was the one time my worries faded away. Or maybe it was simply that I couldn’t help myself.

He kissed me back. Quickly we delved deeper into each other, tongues entwined, hands exploring.

How could someone be so familiar yet so foreign to me? And the fact that he was the one person I shouldn’t go after made him all the more irresistible.

He broke our kiss long enough to pull off his shirt and drop it on a tabletop, covering the filthy surface, then lifted me up onto it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I wrapped my legs around him because that felt equally natural.

This time, there wasn’t anyone waiting for us. It wasn’t a stolen moment in a bathroom stall. This time, Jasper lazily explored my neck and breasts and stomach with his lips and tongue. This time, I traced his tattoos with my finger in the moonlight, committing each new shape to memory.

And when he touched my clit and pressed his cock inside of me, it felt like coming home was meant to feel. He didn’t make any empty promises. We just were. It felt like we were supposed to be just like this, always.

TWENTY-FIVE

JASPER

Before I could finish pulling my shirt down, Esme poked me in the chest.

“What’s this?” she asked.

I looked down at the spot her finger lingered over my ribs. It was such a simple touch, after the two of us had just been all over each other, and yet that small touch still made my skin heat with a fresh surge of awareness.

She was pointing to the spiked wave tattoo. I said, “That’s a wave.”

“Duh. It’s not a normal wave though. What do the spikes mean?”

Always so perceptive. “They’re shaped like the unique nails I pull from my projects.”

“You put nails on a wave when you complete a house restoration?”

“Yep.”

“That’s a lot of spikes.”

“I’ve restored a lot of homes.”

“Can you tell them apart? Or do they all blend together?”

“I can tell.”

She tapped her chin then poked me an inch from where she’d touched me before. “Which house is this one?”

I looked down. “Gladys.”

A smile crept across her face. “No.”

“Yep.”

“And this one?” She slid her finger slightly up, causing a shiver to carry up my neck.

“Constance.”

“And these are the names of houses?”

“Yep.”

“That’s weird. You’re weird.” Her voice and her expression both brimmed with affection.

“Any more questions?”

“Not right now.”

As I pulled my shirt the rest of the way down, Esme turned the flashlight of her phone to the opening between rooms. We headed that way together.

Debris covered the floors, and as much paint had peeled from the walls as what remained, but as we checked out the ruins, every indication suggested this place still had good bones. I checked for safety at every turn. If we reached any point where the floors or supports were questionable, I’d put an end to our exploration.

A text dinged in my pocket. I ignored it.

“Shouldn’t you check that?” Esme asked.

“I don’t want to.”

Esme shrugged. “What if it’s important? It could be an emergency.”

I checked my phone.

Marc: Plumbing repairs are complete. Delivery mix-up on the bathroom countertop. Glad you’re coming back at the end of the week. I hate soloing.

“It’s not an emergency,” I told Esme. “Work stuff.”

“Guess you could have skipped checking.”

My thumbs hovered over the screen. A pang of guilt landed in my chest. I’d need to make this up to Marc with a big fat bonus when I got back. I locked my phone and slid it back into my pocket. “Yep.”

We followed an empty hall to a lobby that was similar to the one in the current resort, except for the fact that all of the furnishings were torn up and broken, and the entire area smelled like mildew.

“Oh, I almost forgot. My friend Sage definitely knows something about the biscuit bandit and the soap opera star,” Esme said. “She got all weird when I brought it up.”

“Do you think she’s protecting Stan?”

“Nah. Hmmm. Maybe?”

“Are they friends?”

“Everyone is friends with Sage. So yes.”

“The kind of friend who would cover for a cookie thief?”

“Definitely. She tried to get me to spit in someone’s drink.”

“You didn’t⁠—”

“Of course not. I would never. You really think—” She put both hands up and her eyes went wide. “Did you hear that?”

I listened.

There was a quiet rustling sound. Like an animal.

I scanned the room and spotted an ottoman with a cloth seat that seemed to be wiggling like it was filled with Jell-O.

I pointed. “There.”

Instead of keeping her distance, Esme rushed forward and kicked it over.

A wiggling wave of green spewed out in every direction.

Esme cackled.

It took me a moment to realize what was happening. The green mass was a boatload of lizards.

Esme’s laughter faded. “I hope I didn’t hurt anyone. I didn’t think about that.”

She lifted the ottoman, then set it down with a sigh of relief. “All clear.”

“Who’s weird?” I asked.

“Shut up.” She gave my shoulder a little shove and continued on, with a yawn.

We found a set of stairs and followed them up to the second floor. It was impressive that this place could be in such disrepair without any structural problems. It really was a shame that it had been allowed to fall into this state.

“I still don’t understand why someone would abandon this building,” I said.

“That sentence doesn’t sound sarcastic, like it clearly should.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, well, maybe there was a hurricane.”

“That only damaged the one building? There’d be evidence elsewhere, too.”

“Well, then the answer is clear.”

“Is it? Because I’m not seeing it.”

She grinned wide at me. “The ghosts. Obviously.”

“Right. Ghosts.”

On cue, a whirring sound blew through the stairwell. It sounded like a gust of wind even though the air was still.

Esme shot me an excited look.

“I didn’t hear any words this time,” I said.

The sound happened again. Again, I didn’t hear any words.

“Let’s keep going,” Esme said.

I followed her through the second floor, to trashed room after room. I didn’t see any ghosts, nor any sign of my missing luggage.

Finally, we reached the end of the hall, to the room with the broken floor I’d jumped up on before. I put an arm out in front of Esme.

Esme yawned again.

“You’re tired,” I said.

She waved a hand at me. “I’m fine.”

“I’m tired,” I said.

“Liar.”

I made a big show of stretching my arms over my head and faking a yawn.

She chuckled. “That’s the fakest yawn I’ve ever seen.”

“I think we should head back.”

She shook her head. “You’re ridiculous. I’m old enough to decide my own bedtime.”

“I’m not,” I said. “If I don’t hit the hay by ten, I turn into a crying, hysterical toddler.”

“Hit the hay? No one but grandpas say that.”

“Okay, then I’m too old. I turn into a crying geezer. If I get too tired to walk, are you going to carry me back? I can’t sleep here or I’ll throw out my hip.”

“Fine.” The smile on her face betrayed her annoyed tone. “I’ll deposit you back at the retirement home before you turn into a pumpkin.”

“Is that a Cinderella reference? I heard only old people say things like that.”

“It’s a shut-up-you’re-getting-your-way reference.”

We headed back to her place.

“I know you said you were tired, but if you’d like to come in for a drink, I’ll allow it,” she said.

“Isn’t drinking frowned upon in your condition?” I asked, a touch concerned, as I followed her inside.

“I never drink alcohol,” she said with a shake of her head.

Her denial was so emphatic it seemed to take over her whole body in a shiver.

“Never?” I asked. “Even before the pregnancy?”

“Well, I’m underage, or I would be in the states.”

Right. How had I not thought of that? “But you’re a little rebel. I’m not implying you should drink now, but before, you were always an expert at pushing boundaries and testing rules.”

“I tried being a rebel once.” She gestured down over her frame. “And that’s how this happened. The universe has a perverse sense of humor like that. There wasn’t even alcohol involved.”

“How did you land a bartending gig without drinking experience?”

“Internet research. I showed up to that interview prepared.”

“Impressive.”

She shrugged. “I needed the job.”

I followed her to the kitchen, where she pulled out a box of tea from the cabinet and a couple of unmarked jugs and bottles from the fridge. I leaned on the counter as I watched her in her element.

“Tea?” I asked.

“Trust me.”

I had never been much of a tea person, but I did trust her, and I was curious about what she would concoct.

Esme glided across the kitchen, making tea and prepping candied cherries on sword-shaped toothpicks and glasses with ice. Aromatic notes of smoke and exotic spices filled the air.

A touch perplexed, I asked, “Is that chai?”

“Nope.”

She mixed the ingredients and poured two drinks, topping each with a spiral of orange peel and a skewer of cherries. The look she gave me as she slid a glass in front of me was a wordless challenge.

“Looks like an Old Fashioned,” I said. “My favorite.”

She didn’t react, she simply watched me with that same expectant expression on her face.

She knew Old Fashioneds were my favorite, probably because I’d mentioned it in passing years ago. And Esme always remembered everything.

I still didn’t know what her favorite caramel was, but she knew everything about me. She didn’t use that information only to bring up embarrassing stories of my awkward teenage days, but to show she listened and cared.

I realized then that she told the stories with the same look on her face. The stories weren’t intended to terrorize me. Every time she brought up the past, it was because we shared such a rich history together, and she was using that history to remind me of how connected we were.

I lifted the glass to my lips. The warm spice belonged to what most certainly tasted like some sort of fruit juice. The tea brought in a smoky note that mimicked whiskey.

The flavors were complex, smooth, slightly bitter, with just enough sweetness.

“This is the best version I’ve ever tasted,” I told her honestly.

She took a sip of her own drink and winked at me. “Told you to trust me.”

Warmth filled my chest as I spun my glass on the counter, unable to take my eyes off Esme. She, too, was complex. Now that I was finally seeing her clearly, I wished I could recall every detail of our past the way she could.

The abrasive conversations were as important as the gentle ones. Everything had led us here, to where I found myself falling for the girl next door.

She wrinkled her nose. “I need a shower.”

“Go ahead.”

“Right now?”

“If you want. You should be comfortable.”

“Ah, you want me in my pajamas so you can tuck me into bed.”

“There are many things I’d enjoy doing to you in your bed.”

A wide grin overtook her face. “Okay then.”

I watched her cross into her bedroom and open the closet. She rifled through the few pieces of clothing hanging there and pulled out a long set of pajamas with a zipper down the front.

“What do you think? Sexy, right?” She laughed.

But my focus was entirely set on a piece still hanging in the closet. Long strips of crêpe paper and bubble wrap were sewn in a patchwork of texture atop a sparkling black dress.

I could still remember the feel of those air bubbles beneath my fingertips, the sound of the plastic popping as I thrust the woman wearing this dress against the back of a closet door at a masked charity event in November.

Time seemed to stand still outside of the pounding in my head.

“That bad?” Esme gave me a confused look.

I was not supposed to be hyperventilating. I was supposed to be commenting on her pajamas.

“You’d look hot in a cardboard box,” I told her, trying to ignore the panic rising in my chest.

She didn’t look pacified. If anything, she looked more concerned. She could see my unease. She knew something was wrong.

I smiled at her, walked over, and tipped her chin up. I kissed the wrinkles of concern on her forehead, then the tip of her nose.

“Want to join me in the shower?” she asked. “You might as well spend the night, but you’re not allowed to climb into my sheets while you’re actually dirty.”

She was adorable and sexy. I loved so many things about her, and if she’d asked five minutes ago if I’d wanted to shower with her and spend the night, I would have been in. No reservations.

But that’s before I’d seen her dress, before the implications punched all the air out of my lungs.

Esme had told me she’d slept with someone back in Epiphany, only one time, and they’d used protection. Then she’d left the country.

The timing lined up. It was impossible for someone else to have this exact dress.

The woman with marigold hair had grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the coat closet. She’d groped me, and I’d groped her back.

I hadn’t seen her face, hidden behind her reflective goggles, but that didn’t stop me from kissing her back when she’d kissed me. It didn’t stop me from fucking her hard in the dark against the closet door.

It had meant nothing to me beyond a few pleasant dreams and a few idle thoughts about my alien Cinderella leaving behind a piece of crêpe paper instead of a glass slipper. She’d meant nothing to me.

But she wasn’t a nameless stranger to me anymore.

She’d been Esme.

Back then it had been years since we’d seen each other. We hardly spoke to each other that night, and when we had, our voices were muffled by our headpieces.

Still, how had I not known?

I needed time to process.

She was still staring at me with her big doe eyes, waiting for an answer to her invitation to shower together.

“I can’t, Bramble,” I said, my voice rough.

“Allergic to water all of a sudden?”

“I really am tired,” I lied. “And with the wedding tomorrow, there’ll be questions if Gabriel comes to find me and I’m not sleeping in my room.”

“Right,” she said, her smile faltering. “Sure.”

I gave her one more kiss, this one right on the lips. She didn’t kiss me back. There was no softness, no openness, no light fun.

We were both shutting down. It was all my fault—the tension between us now, and everything about her current situation was because of me.

Regret mingled with the panic surging through my veins. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.

“Good night, Jasper,” she said, with a look of confusion that made my chest ache.

“Good night, Esme.”

With that, I left.

The costume didn’t only mean that Esme and I had sex before I traveled to Calypso Caribella. It meant the one time she let herself be wild, I’d been the one to seek her out. In her costume, she’d been the alien to my astronaut.

It meant I was the father of her baby.

And I had no idea what to do with that, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep tonight.

TWENTY-SIX

ESME

Gabe stepped in front of the living room mirror and slightly adjusted his bowtie for the umpteenth time. It had looked perfectly centered already, and it looked perfectly centered still.

He was always a sentinel of perfection, even more so today in his tux. He’d spent a lifetime surgically removing any imperfections from himself, from the way he used to slouch to excising lazy weekend mornings from his routine. And this hyper focused nitpicking he was doing now, that was his usual on steroids.

“Nervous?” I asked.

“Buzzing,” he said.

It was very much not a Gabe answer. It wasn’t precise. It wasn’t calculated. It was just…honest.

“You’ve found your person,” I said. “I don’t think most people get to have that. Layana balances you and softens your rough edges. You two have something really special.”

Almost like I thought Jasper and I had. Kind of. Maybe.

It felt like this too-good-to-be-true thing, which apparently it was. Because when I’d invited him to stay last night, he got weird and pulled away from me. Maybe the spell just broke and he realized that we had completely different lives. We were completely different people.

Maybe he wanted to rip the bandage off now so it wouldn’t hurt so bad when he left tomorrow.

Me? It already hurt.

It was totally fine for him to decide against having sex, but Jasper’s turn from hot to cold had given my whiplash. It came out of nowhere. So now I was stuck agonizing about what I’d done wrong last night when I should have been completely focused on my brother and his special day.

Why not enjoy one more day together while we had the chance?

Instead, Jasper lingered out on the beach under the guise of collecting more seashells for the ceremony. We’d gotten plenty of shells already this morning. He was clearly avoiding me.

“I’m not nervous about being married to Layana,” Gabe said.

I flicked my gaze up to meet his in the mirror as he adjusted his bowtie. Again.

“It’s getting to that part. The speaking. The ceremony. I want to make sure everything is right, so she’s not disappointed.”

That was the freaking sweetest thing I’d ever heard.

I grabbed my brother by the arm. He twisted to look me in the eye.

“You, Gabriel Stryker, are enough. Layana will not be disappointed even if everything blows up and the cave floods and your tie is crooked, because she’s marrying you. And she loves you just as much as you love her.”

A softness touched his mochaccino eyes. I thought he might even smile.

But then he said, “You said the water never rises high enough to flood.”

“Ohmygrrrrr.” I sighed. “It’s going to be great.”

“I’m getting married.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“To the woman I love.”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to go do that now. Waiting is unpleasant.”

“Yeah. Well, the bride’s crew needed time for their crafting, so we have to be patient. You’re usually the one who’s good at that.”

“Today is not usual.”

“Fair enough.”

He smiled at me, and it was the boyish smile I rarely glimpsed. I smiled back. He pulled me in for a hug.

“I’d like for us to be closer,” he said.

“But you’re already squishing me,” I said with a chuckle.

He let me go and I could see how earnest he was being.

I said, “I’d like that, too.”

“I’ll try not to be so overbearing,” he said. “It’ll be difficult.”

I chuckled again. “Uh, yeah. You can’t do a whole personality one-eighty overnight. It’s just not practical.”

“I’m going to work on it.”

Layana really was the best thing to ever happen to him.

The front door opened. We both turned in time to see Jasper stepping inside with his windswept hair and a rosy glow on his cheeks from the sun. He set down the basket he’d been carrying.

“Not too much out there anymore,” he said. “But I did find one conch and four sand dollars.”

“Sounds like a good haul for midday,” I said, because I’d already told him it was early morning or bust. Look at me, not being sarcastic about the fact that he was still not looking at me.

“You should get dressed,” Gabe said.

“Yep.” Jasper nodded. He grabbed his paper bag from the resort store, where they’d hunted down a new tux for him at the last minute since his original tux was still lost with his luggage.

Then, finally he looked at me with what would have seemed like a warm smile if I didn’t know him. It wasn’t quite his fake smile, either. His nose was wrinkled. His teeth peeked out between his lips, but there was just something missing.

What did I do last night? Ugh!

“Where can I change?” he asked, as if he hadn’t been here before and didn’t know where the bathroom was.

Where could he change? Anywhere, in the blink of an eye. Poof, he could go from there are many things I’d enjoy doing to you in your bed to I can’t, Bramble in two seconds.

I pointed. “Bathroom is that way. Impossible to miss it.”

My voice came out smooth and sweet, and perfectly nice. Go me.

While he went to the bathroom to change, I pulled a Gabe and checked myself in the living room mirror.

My hair had behaved and stayed in the nice waves I’d magicked with my curling iron. No clown hair for the wedding pics, woot. My tux was pretty stellar, even if a little snug in the midsection. But my tie was crooked.

“Almost perfect.” Gabe gestured me over.

I obeyed and let my big brother fix my tie so it wasn’t lopsided. And also, somehow it seemed more voluminous when he did it.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for doing all of this for me. It means a lot to me.”

I nodded because although I felt the same, I couldn’t say it. If I spoke, with all these warm feelings between us, I might cry. And I didn’t want to test how waterproof my mascara really was, especially not before we even reached the venue.

So I busied myself grabbing my pale blue shawl for something to wear when it got chilly at the beach afterparty.

As I pulled it out of my closet, Jasper stepped out of the bathroom.

And stole my freaking breath away.

Some people were meant to wear certain types of clothing. I’d always thought Jasper was a linen shirt and shorts type of guy. Like maybe if he wore something else, he’d look so out of place it would hurt my eyes, or maybe the moon would explode.

But the sight before me was perception-imploding.

The jacket highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the strength of his arms. The pants covered the strong calves I was used to seeing, and somehow that too made him more alluring.

How could more clothes be hotter?

He wore his hair tied back at the nape of his neck, showing off the full shape of his chiseled jaw. And he’d shaved, which I didn’t think could be sexier than his scratchy scruff, but somehow it was.

He looked like sex on a stick, and saliva pooled in my mouth as I imagined licking him.

“Ready to go?” Gabe asked both of us.

“All set,” Jasper said, casting me a small, secret smile.

This smile said he noticed me noticing how hot he was when he cleaned himself up. It said we’d sneak away later. It said the weirdness from last night was over and everything was back to the way it was supposed to be.

I just stared, not smiling back, not saying anything.

“Esme?” Gabe tilted his chin and looked at me.

“Yep, raring to go. Let’s get you married.” I smiled widely at my brother and did not look at Jasper again while we waited for our car to arrive, or when we loaded it up, and still not on the drive to the cliffs. Quiet, comfortable anticipation filled the time.

When we reached the cliffs and piled out, that anticipation only grew.

Gabe was really getting married. Today.

Salty air rushed up from the sea. The sky cast a gorgeous glow of evening light over Gabe and Jasper. Layana was missing this perfect moment and every one like it.

Juno was recording everything for her on the bride’s side. There was no Juno on the groom’s side.

“Don’t move.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and held out the camera so the three of us made it into the shot, and I snapped it. “We need evidence of our pre-wedding day.”

Gabe crinkled his brow.

“Trust me,” I said. “Layana’s going to want it.”

“But we’re about to go down to the cavern,” he said. “Our pre-wedding day is over.”

“I took some when we were collecting shells,” Jasper said.

I snapped my gaze to his warm emerald irises. “I didn’t see you do that.”

“They aren’t candid if you notice the camera,” Jasper said. “Juno is definitely taking shots of the bride and her friends.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said, “both of you.”

I offered a fist to Jasper. “Go team Gabe.”

He gave me a little bump.

We took a couple more pics of Gabe and Jasper together, of me and Gabe, of each of us alone, and it really did feel like we were on the same team. Then, we headed down the rock tunnel to where Layana’s sisters and Oscar waited for us. Laughter echoed off the walls, carried from the cavern ahead.

Entering the cave was like stepping through a portal into a magical realm. Fairy lights twinkled along the ceiling and down the walls. Glasses filled with flowers floated atop the glowing bioluminescent water. In the center of the space, an archway waited. The lushness of the greenery and colorful flowers covering it made the piece seem to be alive.

“Wow,” I said, because it was the only appropriate word to describe the scene laid out before us.

Luna snatched the basket of shells from my hand. “Thank you.”

“This is insanely beautiful. How did you manage to pull all of this off in one day?” I asked.

“Morgan,” Oscar said.

“She’s kind of scary when she’s on a mission,” Lydia said with a laugh that held no humor.

Lindsey said, “Kind of scary? More like full-blown terrifying.”

Lydia continued, “Like my fingers were practically bleeding and she was all don’t stop if you want to live.”

“I don’t think she said that,” Luna said as she spread seashells around the perimeter.

“It was the general sentiment though,” Lindsey said.

Oscar’s stern face softened ever so slightly, making way for a show of the fondness he felt for his future wife. “She’d do anything for her best friend.”

I made a mental note never to cross Layana, not that I’d planned to. But if it accidentally happened, I would need to hide from Morgan.

“Whatever methods she employed were worth it,” Jasper said.

“Easy for you to say, you weren’t stuck as one of her pawns,” Lydia said under her breath.

“What can we do to help?” Gabriel asked.

“We’re pretty well set,” Luna said. She turned to Jasper. “You have the rings.”

“Yes,” he said.

“We don’t have any music,” Lydia said.

“On it,” I said, and opened the mix of easy listening island music on my phone I used to unwind.

By the edge of the water, a makeshift stand held a bunch of phones aimed at the flower archway. I approached the stand to see if I could make space for my phone there, too.

But as I stepped close, I saw one of the phones was set to record. The other two were already in use, on video calls.

One was an older couple who were most definitely Layana’s parents. The resemblance between the pair and their four girls was striking. I waved a hello. I immediately recognized the living room on the final screen even though no one was there.

“This is Oma’s house,” I said.

“Is that Esme? I heard Esme’s voice. That’s you, isn’t it, sweetie?”

I caught Oma’s voice and laughed. “It’s me. I’m here. Gabe’s here, too.”

“I am so happy to be a part of this, even if I don’t understand how this technology thing is supposed to work.” The camera swiped over the ceiling, then right up a set of hairy nostrils.

“Wait just a…don’t go anywhere.” This voice belonged to Uncle Wallace.

“Don’t worry. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” And I meant it. All my worry about having my brother invading my space felt silly. The elated feelings making my lungs feel like they were two balloons poised to lift me off my feet—this was what I’d been waiting to feel ever since the phone call that had started all of this.

“How are you feeling?” I asked Oma.

“All better,” she said with a warm smile. “Very rested.”

Finally, the screen flipped.

And upon seeing Uncle Wallace and Oma’s smiling faces, I felt something I hadn’t felt since I ran away from Epiphany. I felt homesick—not for a place, but for the people I loved most.

They were here with me, on screen and in person. My cheeks started to burn, and I swore to myself I wouldn’t cry.

And then Morgan’s voice echoed down the tunnel, suggesting the bridal party had arrived. “Are we all set?”

“Yes,” Luna called back to her.

The group of us lined up, me and Jasper and Gabriel. Then a big space for the bride and her friends, with Layana’s sisters flanking the far side.

Chester ran down the tunnel, did a little dance in front of the camera, and stepped to the center of the archway.

Juno came down next, followed by Morgan. They lined up to wait for the bride.

Finally Layana appeared in the most gorgeous dress I’d ever seen. It was satin and lace, white with hints of the gentle turquoise her bridesmaids wore.

I looked at my brother.

And even though I’d never seen it happen, I could swear he was about to cry. His expression was complete awe, like he’d never seen such beauty in all his life, like he couldn’t believe she was actually going to be his wife, like it was scientifically impossible for his heart to be fuller than it was at this moment.

I glanced at Jasper beside me.

And it was probably just the magic of the wedding, but I could swear the expression on his face as he looked at me was just like the one Gabe gave Layana.

TWENTY-SEVEN

JASPER

The universe didn’t care that I was utterly unqualified to be a father. It didn’t care that I had no idea what being a good father even looked like. I had no role model. What I did have was a lifetime of experience of what it felt like to be let down by a father who didn’t bother to try.

Even if I made every other mistake possible, I couldn’t screw that part up.

I’d be present, however much Esme would allow me to be. I’d be there for her, and for our kid. No matter what.

The entire prospect terrified me. It had kept me up all night as my brain ran through every possibility as to what could happen next, every change this would bring to my life, and every way I could screw all of it up.

I’d expected those fears to grow once I was with Esme today. But I was wrong.

As Gabriel recited his vows on my one side, and Esme watched with joy on my other side, I felt something completely unexpected—peace.

No matter how slim the chances of pregnancy while using protection, this could have happened to me with any of the women I’d slept with. It could have happened with Jules. It could have happened with a woman I hardly knew who was hot but turned out to keep a house full of snakes as pets, or stuck her gum under tables, or ordered pineapple on pizza. I shivered at the thought.

Having a baby meant a lifetime entwined in the mother’s life. It meant we were instantly a family.

And there was no family I’d rather be a part of than Gabe and Esme’s.

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” Chester announced. “Commence the smooching.”

Gabriel pulled Layana into his arms and kissed her like she was his entire world. It was exactly the way he’d looked at her ever since the two of them had gotten over their egos and recognized the truth that was painfully obvious to the rest of the world.

Their imperfections made them perfect for each other.

Oscar snapped pictures. Cheers erupted. Everyone rushed to hug and congratulate them.

I shook Gabriel’s hand, accepted a hug from Layana, then stepped back with my brother to watch the flurry of excitement from the edge of it.

“Nice ceremony,” Oscar said.

“Yeah.” I watched the way he was staring at Morgan, with that same look Gabriel gave Layana. “Ready for your turn next?”

“No,” he said. “But she’s worth it.”

I looked at Esme laughing as Layana hugged her hard. And I knew exactly what my brother meant.

“Tell her,” Oscar said.

“What?”

He nodded toward Esme. “It’s obvious. Tell her before you do something to screw it up.”

I felt heat carry up my neck as he so easily called me out.

The possibility of messing up terrified me. It was like quicksand. The more I struggled to find the right words to explain it, the deeper I sank into silence.

Oscar said, “Trust me.”

Whether he was speaking from experience or because he knew how I was, I wasn’t sure.

Morgan ran over and dove at him. He easily caught her, and they whispered to each other for a moment. He kissed the tip of her nose and set her down.

She turned to me, her cheeks pink. “Up for a job?”

“Tell me what I can do to help,” I said.

“Exactly what I was hoping you’d say. We need someone to pick up food for the bonfire afterparty.”

“I can handle that.”

“You might need help,” Morgan said.

I glanced at Oscar, even though the person I really needed alone time with was Esme. We had a lot to discuss.

“Oscar’s on the take-down crew,” Morgan said.

“Demolition,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, no destruction,” Morgan said with a look of warning. “We’re taking everything down gently, so we can donate them to make someone else’s dream wedding come true, too.”

“Controlled destruction,” Oscar said.

I chuckled with a sense of relief. I was free and clear to invite Esme.

I started across the cave toward her.

And Chester stepped right in my path.

I tried to step around him.

He followed me step for step with a weird smile on his face. Everything the man did was weird.

I still couldn’t look at him without a visual of the saddle and cheese pirate getup filling my head.

“Excuse me,” I said, pressing forward despite his insistence on staying in my way.

“We’re going to get the food together,” he said.

“That’s all right. I’ll just ask⁠—”

“I’ve been assigned.” He gave me a crazed grin.

Morgan put him up to it. She’d assigned everyone’s tasks in advance.

“That won’t be a problem, will it?” he asked.

“Of course not,” I said, not meaning it at all.

Chester ushered me toward the exit. I went along with him, very much wishing it was Esme who was going with me.

A car was waiting for us when we reached the surface, so we climbed into the back, side by side. Chester listed off an address for the restaurant. The whole drive, I could feel him staring at me.

I stared out the window.

He bumped his knee into mine.

I pulled away.

“I hope there are no hard feelings,” he said.

“Nope.”

“For Jules’s and my entanglement.”

“Not at all.”

“She’s a wildebeest in the sack.”

“Mmm,” I said, wishing I could be anywhere else.

“She said you were good with it.”

“I am.”

“You don’t seem good.”

“I’m great.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

I forced myself to turn toward him, with a forced smile on my face.

He said, “You’re not great.”

I sighed. “You don’t know me.”

“Sure I do. You’re one of those hide-your-feelings guys. You’re just stealthier about it than people like your brother.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Well, that was a lie.

“You’re uncomfortable being here with me. You were uncomfortable with Jules and me fornicating. And you⁠—”

“Let’s enjoy a little silence before we get back to the festivities.”

“You hide behind a smile instead of a scowl, but it’s the same.”

“You want me to say I’m uncomfortable with you brushing your leg against me in the car?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I don’t care for it. Can we do the quiet thing now?”

“Why? It’s just getting interesting. Back in the hotel room, which part about my offer for you to join in our fornication made you uncomfortable?”

The driver’s wide gaze caught mine in the mirror.

“All of it.”

“Because you didn’t want to share Jules?”

“I don’t care what you do with Jules.”

“That’s not true. You definitely cared.”

“Not about her. You were in my bed, with the saddle, and the cheese, and…” I shivered, agitation rising through my veins. “It was a lot to digest.”

“Cheese can be like that. You have to choose the right varieties.”

“Kill me now.”

Chester barked a laugh. “Since you locked her belongings out of your room, Jules has been staying with me. Is that entanglement going to be a problem on the flight home tomorrow?”

“No problem.”

“You seem like the smile until you explode type, and I’m not interested in getting punched because you let your jealousy build to a boil.”

“I’m not jealous. You want Jules, you’re welcome to her.”

He stared at me, like he was trying to decipher if I was telling the truth.

“I don’t even know if I’ll be on that plane,” I said.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I recognized what I was thinking. I might not go back to Epiphany, not if Esme wanted me here. I’d give up my life there for her if she asked.

Because I loved her.

I’d loved her for a long time, first as a friend. But the past week had taught me a lot about our history, about how everything had happened through her eyes, and about the woman she’d become. And with every revelation, my love had grown.

I didn’t just love her anymore. I was in love with her.

And I wanted to be the man and partner she deserved.

Chester tapped his chin as if he’d been privy to my private thoughts. “Interesting.”

I wanted to flip him off. Instead, I smiled.

We pulled up to the restaurant, thank goodness. And I decided then that I would not say another word to Chester on the ride from the restaurant to the beach. Preferably, I’d never speak to him again.

TWENTY-EIGHT

ESME

“She’s always been like that.” Lindsey laughed and threw back the rest of her glass of wine in one gulp.

The bonfire lit the joyous faces gathered in the sand. Alcohol was consumed. Stories were told. I stuck to sparkling water and let the reminiscing soak in and warm my heart as much as the fire warmed my skin.

Lindsey continued, “Layana used to dress up in her ballet leotard and strut around the living room during the televised pageants.”

“It wasn’t just during the pageants,” Luna said.

“For Godzilla’s sake.” Layana covered her eyes and chuckled with embarrassment.

“It wasn’t?” Lindsey asked.

“She wore spandex and bells for Christmas that one year, too,” Lydia said. “With leopard ears…or was it stripes? And I think there was a matching tail.”

Morgan choked on her wine.

Lydia shook her finger at Morgan. “You remember the tail.”

Morgan smashed her lips together and turned to Layana.

“Yes, fine. I still have the tail,” Layana said with a ridiculous level of confidence. She pointed at her best friend and sisters in turn. “It’s a power piece. Don’t judge me. I know all of your most embarrassing secrets, too.”

“Luna was the one who ate the macaroni off your art,” Lydia said.

“Lydia!” Luna shoved Lydia off the log the pair of them were sitting on.

Lydia cackled.

“No,” Layana said. “My masterpiece, Mr. Snuffleupagus?”

“How did I get blamed for that?” Lindsey asked. “I specifically remember being grounded for a week for destroying that picture and I didn’t even do it.”

Lydia cackled louder.

It was impossible not to chuckle a little, too, caught in the fun and trouble they all used to get into together.

Gabe, with his arm still wrapped around his new wife, looked over at me with a small smile. We hadn’t had a relationship like they had, but maybe if our parents had been alive, around, and as in love as Layana’s parents seemed to be, maybe we could have.

Maybe it didn’t matter how many times we’d disappointed each other in the past if we tried to be better to each other moving forward. Less judgmental. More…honest? Hmm. Maybe we weren’t ready for that much closeness. One step at a time.

“Who’s hungry?” Chester pranced across the sand, huge bags in his hands.

Jasper strolled behind him carrying a big covered tray.

He’d avoided me all morning but then he’d looked at me so freaking adoringly during the wedding. I wasn’t sure which version of him to expect now. But I was starting to believe that his weirdness last night had nothing to do with me.

He was going home tomorrow.

There’d always been a countdown hanging over us, with a clear and absolute end date, even if that had been easy to forget at times. I couldn’t blame him for withdrawing. If he felt even a fraction of the intense rollercoaster of emotion I’d felt for him this week, it made sense to pull away.

Our whirlwind romance was over.

Maybe that was okay. He had shown me that I wasn’t alone, helped me find a new strength in myself. It had to be okay, because he was definitely leaving. Everyone was.

Chester dropped his bags into the sand beside Juno and started doling out smaller paper bags to the people around him. “Take what you want and pass it around.”

Jasper took a seat next to me on the log, setting the tray down in the sand beside him. It was filled with beautiful cupcakes decorated with colorful tropical flowers.

“Hey, Bramble,” he said.

His voice sounded tight, not at all his usual easy-going tone.

My throat felt tight, too. “Hi.”

On my other side, Morgan passed me one of the bags. Before I even opened it, I recognized the greasy, spiced scent.

Suddenly hungry, I peeked inside. “Cheese patties, my favorite.”

I snatched one and passed it to Jasper, who had a complex expression on his face that I was in no state to try and decipher. So, I turned my attention back to the hand pie and took a bite.

Gooey, salty, spicy—it was everything a perfect savory bite was meant to be. My heart felt a little lighter.

That’s right, focus on the good company, the delicious food, and don’t think about how soon all of this would be over.

How little time remained until Jasper left.

Even though I knew it was dangerous business, I glanced at him.

He was watching me, a patty of his own in his hand. A single bite was missing, so I waited for his reaction.

Why did it matter what he thought? It shouldn’t. It didn’t.

“These are your favorite what exactly?” he asked.

“Food on the island,” I said, still waiting for his verdict, with less and less patience every moment that passed. “You like it?”

“It’s delicious.”

I nodded, because yes it was. And again, my chest felt a little lighter.

A comfortable silence fell between us as we ate, contrasted by everyone else’s loudness.

Layana popped up and pulled on Gabe’s arm.

He shook his head no.

She stuck out her bottom lip and said, “You have to. It’s required.”

I didn’t catch if he said words back to her, or if he just grumbled, but he followed her to his feet and pulled her close. They shared their first dance to the purr of the ocean, the crackling of the fire, and the hooting of their greatest cheerleaders.

Jasper spun his beer bottle absentmindedly in the sand.

“This is nice,” I said.

“Yeah.”

They felt like empty words, like I should be saying something deeper, and he should too.

He wasn’t smiling.

I didn’t want him to. It wouldn’t feel real.

Morgan and Oscar joined in on the dancing. Chester danced with all three of Layana’s sisters. Juno recorded the revelry.

And even though everyone was still close by, only on the other side of the fire, it felt like Jasper and I were alone.

A slight breeze prickled across my skin.

Jasper leaned ever so slightly closer to me, and a sense of dread hit me like a fist to the gut.

This was when he was going to let me down easy. He was going to say he’d enjoyed my company, but our time was at an end, and even though he’d been all I will be here for you, Bramble. Always, that was just pillow talk and it didn’t mean anything.

Nothing that had happened this week meant anything.

As much as that hurt, I could stop it from hurting worse. I could forgo making a scene and calling him a lying bag of dicks.

I could cauterize the wound before it drained the life out of me.

I’d spare us both the hurt.

“There’s something I have to—” he started.

At the same time, I said, “We don’t have to make a big deal⁠—”

A softness passed between us. It would have made me smile if the inevitable words we both needed to say didn’t hurt so deeply.

“You go ahead,” he said.

You can do this.

I took a moment, and a deep breath. Then, before I lost my nerve, I let it all out in a rush. “This week has been fun. It always had a time limit, and that’s okay. We knew that from the start.”

Jasper’s green eyes were too soft, like a summer field full of lush grass to roll around in.

“Bramble.”

He said my nickname like he, too, was mourning the possibilities that could have been between us. It felt like he wished I hadn’t moved to the island, like if we hadn’t grown up next door to each other, that maybe it wouldn’t have to end here.

It was a name filled with a history that I’d come to cherish, the good and the bad.

Jasper’s gaze flicked to a spot next to me on the ground, and his eyes sharpened.

It was like he just remembered he’d left the stove on in a house filled with propane.

“What?” I asked, worry slowly constricting my chest.

Upbeat music played from someone’s phone, as everyone danced. They felt distant, like we weren’t even on the same beach anymore.

“Is that…” Jasper’s skin went ashen.

I whisper hissed, “What?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

I looked at the ground where he was looking. There was something dark there, like the sand was wet. I ran my hand over the spot, still not sure what Jasper was so upset about.

I lifted my palm in front of me, and found something wet on my fingers.

“Hospital, now,” he whispered, gently lifting me to my feet.

The wetness was also on my leg, which I hadn’t noticed while I was sitting because of how cold the sand felt.

I lifted my shawl with me. It was stained red.

Blood.

Jasper thought I was sitting in a puddle of blood. He thought I was bleeding…. Ohmygoodness, the baby.

Panic pulsed through my veins. Thank goodness Jasper hurried me away from the fire, toward Rum Bum Tiki Tavern. The bar was closed. This was a smart move. I wasn’t sure if I could think well enough to put one foot in front of the other on my own at the moment.

The excitement continued on the beach, and in the back of my mind, a little voice wondered if we should say something. But what excuse could we make? I could hardly handle the situation on my own, let alone deal with Gabe for this.

“We’re calling an ambulance,” Jasper said in a stern voice.

Yes, I felt quite wet, but I wasn’t in any pain.

If I was bleeding and there was something wrong with little Pecan, I’d feel it, right? There’d be not just pain, but unbearable agony.

The dissonance had me slowing, pulling back slightly against Jasper’s firm hold on me.

“I’m going to the bathroom first, in the light,” I said, feeling like my body wasn’t my own, like I was floating above watching this horror show unfold. It couldn’t be real. “I have to see what’s going on.”

His eyes were wild as we reached the porch and I fumbled with my keys. My hands were shaking.

Everything I’d thought was changing, the new addition I thought was overtaking my life now felt so fragile. What if I lost the baby?

That couldn’t happen.

I wanted this baby.

Wanted wasn't nearly a strong enough word. I felt a fierce need to protect him or her, to cherish them, to love them.

The key finally went into the lock, and I hurried into the bar straight toward the bathroom.

Jasper followed right on my heels and slipped in before the door shut.

What did he think he was doing?

I blinked at him. “Get out.”

“No.”

I growled at him and tried to push him out the door. How dare he insert himself so firmly into my business?

I said, “You don’t need to be here for this.”

“I do. I have to know our baby is okay.”

Our baby—the words repeated in my head over and over again, but no matter how many times I replayed them, they still didn’t make any sense.

I stared at Jasper’s stern expression.

I waited for him to backpedal and smile and say something stupid about how Pecan was everyone’s baby because of friendship.

Something. Some excuse.

He offered no explanation. He just stared at me with an intensity that frazzled my already frazzled nerves.

Exasperated and lost, I said, “What do you mean, our baby?”

TWENTY-NINE

JASPER

I dropped down to my knees, ignoring Esme’s question.

Esme deserved an explanation, of course she did, but explaining my word choice was the least of my worries at the moment.

“Tell me,” she said, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

Her shawl was stained with blood. The sand was stained with blood. Her pants stuck to her wet leg.

“Jasper,” she snapped.

“Pull down your pants.”

She roared with frustration, dropped her pants and turned to show me the red staining the back of her white panties.

I never would have chosen to be a father on my own. I never would have picked the circumstances in which it had happened.

But it happened.

And the idea of losing Esme and our baby terrified me.

I’d give anything to keep them safe and healthy. I’d give my business, my money, my life. Anything. Everything.

It felt like claws tore at my lungs, until I couldn’t breathe. My heart hammered so hard and so fast it went numb.

Esme lifted her shawl to her face, wrinkled her nose, and shoved the folded fabric in my face. “It’s wine.”

The fabric smelled like fruit, not blood.

But it was impossible to come from complete panic back down to earth with one sniff.

I tried to swallow, tried to slow my breathing. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She pulled up her pants and scowled at me.

Relief rushed over me, easing the tension that held tight. Someone must have spilled a glass of wine beside Esme when they left the bonfire to dance.

“Really, really sure?” I asked.

“Jasper.”

Completely unraveled, I looked up at her.

“I’m sure.”

I let my shoulders sag, let the truth fill my lungs and settle in my heart. Our baby was okay. Esme was okay.

She put her hands on her hips and glared down at me. “Tell me right the fuck now why you said our.”

This would not be a good time to stand, even though my knees ached. I had to know that our baby was all right…that’s what I’d said to her.

I’d screwed up. Bad.

I licked my lips.

“I saw the costume in your closet,” I said.

She crinkled her brows with confusion.

“The party you went to in November,” I said. “You were dressed as an alien. I was the astronaut.”

All the color drained from her face.

She scrubbed her hands over her eyes.

“We used protection. I had no idea it was you.” I licked my lips. “I completely forgot all about⁠—”

“Just another warm place to stick your dick, no big deal, so easy to forget.”

That stung, but I knew that she was hurting. Worse, she wasn’t entirely wrong. I’d been the kind of guy who had casual sex with tons of women. I’d been the kind of guy who didn’t think anything more about it. But that wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore. Everything was different now. She needed to understand. “Esme⁠—”

“You knew about the party. I told you all about it. I confided everything in you because I thought I could trust you and you knew.”

“I only found out last night,” I said.

“Say I believe you, that you didn’t put it together that the same party I was talking about was one you attended. Say I believe you only just found out that you were the one guy I’d tried to do casual with, and you found out last night.”

I nodded, because that was the truth.

“When you found out last night, you didn’t tell me. How long were you going to wait before you let me in on the secret? You could have said something then. You could have said it this morning or any time throughout the day. You found out that you knocked me up, then you planned to run away, back to Epiphany without a single word, Jasper. If you hadn’t thought I was bleeding, would you have ever told me at all?”

“I don’t…I needed time to process.”

I wasn’t saying this right. Everything I was doing was wrong, yet I couldn’t seem to fix it.

“You need time to process?” A flush of red carried up her neck and over her ears. “What about me?”

I didn’t have a good answer to that. Of course she deserved to know. I’d gathered the courage by the bonfire. I’d been about to share everything with her, before I saw what I’d thought was blood.

“I should have seen this coming. I should have known better. Never trust The Disaster. It’s like when I made you the bracelet.”

I remembered the pink friendship bracelet she’d made for me out of little rubber bands. But that was a fond memory for me, not a bad one. I didn’t understand how that connected to what was happening now.

She huffed. “You came over and I gave you the bracelet and you saw that I’d accidentally bent the wing on Gabe’s drone, because you can’t leave that kind of thing and not expect your little sister to touch it.”

“I remember the drone,” I said.

“And you helped me try to bend it back, but I broke the whole wing off. And you promised to help me get it replaced. You promised it would be all right, because you were on my team, and I believed you.”

I didn’t specifically remember that part, but that’s how memories went with Esme.

“And then two days later, when Gabe saw what happened you just stood there as he yelled at me,” she said. “He asked you if my story about not touching it was true, and you shrugged. You said nothing.”

“I don’t remember that,” I said.

“You promised,” she said. “That’s when you became Jasper The Disaster to me, when I knew you weren’t really my friend anymore. You were Gabe’s. And that was that.”

I had no idea I’d hurt her so badly when we were kids. I didn’t even know what to say about it, now, as I barely remembered the events to begin with.

“You said nothing, just like now,” she said. “You should have told me that you were the astronaut.”

Yes.

But I’d never done relationships before. I was learning, and trying, and I wanted to do everything right with her. I couldn’t say the words last night, even though I should have. I’d hoped she’d understand.

My father had taught me that marriage was a tax write-off, that monogamy wasn’t real, and that being a dad meant acknowledging his spawn whenever it suited him. I hadn’t wanted to pass any of those toxic lessons on to a kid of my own.

I’d wanted to spare the future from any more Carringtons.

I’d wanted to spare Esme the hurt.

And now I needed to explain all of that, in a way that put her mind at ease, in a way that made her understand.

“Esme, I never wanted kids,” I said.

She flinched.

It felt like a dagger to my heart. My words were hurting her. This was exactly what I’d feared, what I knew would happen.

I needed to stop. Instead, I rose to my feet and reached for her, because selfishly I craved the comfort of her touch.

She recoiled.

“Get away from me,” she screamed.

I was making everything worse. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you.”

I backed out of the bathroom, my head spinning.

The door slammed shut.

I loved her. I loved our baby.

Love wasn’t enough.

I could never be what she needed me to be. I wasn’t equipped for fatherhood or relationships. I didn’t deserve a family.

The worst thing I could do right now was hang around and make her more upset. She was pregnant, and when I blinked, all I could see on the back of my eyelids was that puddle of red staining the beach.

Upset her more, and it might not be a close call next time.

I went back outside the building and paced in the sand. Esme didn’t follow.

I waited for an agonizing eternity, trying to figure out what I could say to repair the damage I’d caused.

If I told her now that I loved her, she’d see it as me trying to use my feelings as an excuse. I didn’t want that. When I said the words, I needed her to feel the truth and sincerity in them.

There was nothing I could say.

I couldn’t go back inside that bathroom, as much as it pained me. She’d made her wishes completely clear.

She wanted me away from her, so as much as it hurt, I did as she asked and walked back toward the bonfire, my heart shredded to pieces.

THIRTY

ESME

I paced back and forth, buzzing like a battered hornet’s nest.

Jasper was the astronaut.

Jasper was the father.

How dare he? What all exactly I was pissed at him for, I wasn’t entirely sure. For having mutantly aggressive sperm—maybe. For knowing he was the father and not telling me—definitely.

I wanted to go beat something with a stick. I needed to move. I couldn’t be here. I headed outside and took two steps back toward the beach, before twisting on my heel and running in the opposite direction.

Gabe didn’t tell me when he found the truth about where our mother had run off to. No one told me when Dad got sick. Everyone kept secrets from me for my whole life. Why should I expect anything different from Jasper?

Why should I think that he was different? That we were different?

There was no we.

Our tryst had always had an expiration date. And he’d always planned to leave.

What I’d seen as connection was nothing but a fluke. A short-term distraction from both of our lives.

He very clearly didn’t need me. He was content to leave the island without even letting me know that he was the father of my baby.

I didn’t need him, either.

My lungs burned. My legs went numb. Still, I ran. The movement left me feeling lighter, giving me control of something, even if the control was only over my body.

I ran and I ran, and I didn’t slow until I spotted a tall, thin figure looking around suspiciously and then ducking into the trees.

Curious, I stopped running and approached slowly.

“I told you I couldn’t talk yet,” a deep voice said.

The voice was familiar. I dropped down behind a bush and listened.

“You have to wait until I call you.”

I peeked up over the top of the bush at the figure—a man. He twisted slightly to look around, and revealed the side of his curly mustache.

It was Stan, and he was on the phone talking to someone. This was exactly the kind of behavior I’d seen before from him, when he started talking in Italian, even though that was usually in a closet or bathroom instead of outside.

I readied my own phone for translation. And Stan didn’t disappoint.

I watched the translated words fill my screen.

No.

Yes.

Under lock and key.

Before you ship a single biscuit more, I need to secure a new hiding place.

Stan wasn’t the biscuit bandit. He was the bandit’s victim.

A small thrill flitted through my stomach. The first thing I wanted to do with this information was share it with Jasper.

I hated that.

The last thing I needed to do was talk to him.

THIRTY-ONE

JASPER

I sat on the beach, purposefully not looking back the way I had come. When Esme returned to the bonfire, I didn’t want to scare her away.

I could pretend like everything was fine. That’s what we’d both been doing all week long—pretending. We pretended not to have feelings for each other, we pretended we weren’t having sex, we pretended that we’d been just friends.

Or at least that’s what I’d thought we’d been.

But then she told me she hadn’t considered me her friend since we were kids and she’d broken Gabriel’s drone. I didn’t remember promising to help her, but I was sure I hadn’t intentionally broken a promise.

The longer I sat, staring into the fire, the more my thoughts twisted. Regret transformed into frustration.

A broken toy from our childhood was no reason for her to be angry at me.

Worse, I eventually would have told her that I was the astronaut from the costume party. I just wasn’t ready to tell her everything last night. I wasn’t ready for any of this.

She should know better than anyone how that felt. She found out she was pregnant on Friday, and she still hadn’t told her family because she needed time to process the news herself.

Why couldn’t she offer me the same grace?

Morgan and Oscar came over to warm their hands over the crackling driftwood pyre, with Juno on their heels.

Gabriel twirled and dipped Layana as the couple continued dancing. Her laugh came out loud and uninhibited.

“I never would have guessed from watching his TV interviews that Gabriel would be such a softie,” Juno said. “They’re just so cute together.”

“He’s reserved, not cold,” Oscar said.

“They are cute,” Morgan agreed. “And you’re not really cold, either, are you?”

He scowled at the fire.

“I think it’s adorable that you have a marshmallow center, Oscar,” Juno said.

“I don’t,” he said.

I wished I had it in me to laugh, to be a part of the fun.

I could never be the father that the baby would need me to be. I couldn’t be the partner that Esme deserved. I had nothing to go on, no guide for how all of these pieces were supposed to fit.

Plus Esme wouldn’t want me doing any of that. She’d see how messed up I was. There was no space for me in her new, free life.

Still, now we were having a baby. My tiny pea brain still couldn’t get over that fact. No matter how terrifying the prospect was, it remained true.

And when I’d thought there was a chance I’d lose my new family, I had been even more terrified than before.

I’d do whatever Esme wanted me to do to make up for my mistake.

If emotional fortresses like Gabriel and Oscar could embrace vulnerability, if Oscar could get past our shared upbringing to be a good partner, maybe there was hope for me.

I prayed there was.

I glanced back toward the bathrooms for any sign of Esme. I didn’t see her.

The song ended, and another started. Layana bounced over to join her sisters with Chester. Gabriel joined us at the fire.

He sank down onto the palm log beside me, cheeks flushed from dancing and drinking. He took a long pull from his beer and let his contented gaze drift to his new wife who twirled barefoot in the sand with her sisters.

“You’re married.” I gave him a playful nudge. “How’s it feel?”

“Like I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He looked me up and down. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You helped me realize what I had with Layana,” he said. “I’d like to see you find happiness, too.”

“I’m happy,” I said, even though I felt miserable. “I’m happy fixing my houses. I’m happy surfing, hanging out with you right now.”

“What happened with Jules?”

Oscar choked on his drink and pounded his chest.

I bristled at Jules’s name. “Nothing.”

“Come on,” Gabriel said with a skeptical look that called me right out on my bullshit. “I’ve never seen you with the same woman more than once. You brought her across an ocean with you. That’s a big step.”

“It’s…not.”

“I’m not judging if it was too much,” he said with so much sincerity it hurt.

“I shouldn’t have let her come,” I said.

His look was what—pity?

“It’s no huge loss. We’re not together. Never were.”

“Then why’d you bring her?” he asked.

Behind Gabriel, Oscar’s mismatched gaze burrowed into my skull.

“You invited her,” I said with a shrug.

“I did?” Gabriel asked, confused.

“Yeah, you seemed excited about it, like you were helping me, so I went with it.”

“I’m…I apologize for overstepping. Why didn’t you say something?”

I should have spoken up. I was hearing that a lot tonight.

I was starting to worry Esme wasn’t coming back.

I sighed and shook my head. “Apparently I have a problem.”

“He doesn’t like to cause waves,” Oscar said.

“You wouldn’t have upset me,” Gabriel said. “I only wish to see you happy.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll work on it.”

Gabriel clapped me on the back, then scanned the beach. “By the way, where’s Esme?”

Great question. She should have been back by now.

Unless she couldn’t stand to be in my vicinity.

If she left, I couldn’t blame her. The situation was entirely my fault and it took all of my willpower to respect her wishes to leave her alone.

Gabriel was still looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“She went to the bathroom,” I said, gesturing toward the bar.

I’d betrayed her trust, and she might not come back. With the way she held onto things, what if she couldn’t forgive me?

The wind seemed to whisper, indecipherable voices washing over the sand.

A ripple of unease pricked the hairs on my arms.

The sound was exactly like the echoed voices Esme and I had heard in the vents and again in the ruins.

I scanned the shoreline, searching for the source of the sound. But like before, no one was there.

“Just another warm place to stick your dick.”

The words sounded clear as the crystalline water—Esme’s words. The sentence hurt as much now as it had the first time, piercing right between my ribs and twisting. I had to be imagining them, but they sounded so real.

“Who’s saying that?” Oscar asked.

“I don’t know. It sounds almost like the ocean,” Morgan said.

They could hear it too.

Had someone been spying on me and Esme? Why were they doing this? Why couldn’t I see whoever was doing this?

I closed my eyes, wishing this wasn’t happening, wishing I could go back to the conversation in the bathroom and get it right this time. Better yet, I wished to go back to last night, and tell Esme the truth as soon as I learned it.

“No big deal, so easy to forget,” the wind whispered.

Please let no one else have heard. Please let it stop.

“Harsh,” Oscar said.

“Whoa.” Luna looked around. “Who said that?”

Lydia shrugged. “There’s no one here.”

Everyone scanned the beach. All there was to see was swaying trees, ocean, and sand.

“You knocked me up.”

This couldn’t be happening. Disbelief and horror stunned me.

“Is everyone else freaking out that the wind is talking?” Luna asked.

“Yes,” Layana said. “Are there speakers hidden in the sand or something?”

Where could there be speakers? There weren’t speakers. The whispers came from nowhere. The voices defied logic and tore my heart apart.

“Then you planned to run away, back to Epiphany without a single word, Jasper.”

The words were Esme’s, but the voice and cadence were different, like someone was repeating what she’d said, yet somehow it also sounded like it came from the wind itself.

Everyone’s attention snapped to me.

I froze, unable to say or do anything except listen to the terrible conversation unfolding for a second time.

“Esme, I never wanted kids.”

It sounded worse than it had to me the first time, when I’d said it. It sounded like a rejection, which was not at all what I’d intended.

There was no context. There was no excuse.

Layana’s sisters ran off whispering to each other about checking the trees at the edge of the sand.

Gabriel felt like a cold statue beside me. I couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Is it true?” His voice trembled with barely contained rage.

Ice pumped through my veins, leaving me numb. I couldn’t believe this was happening. All of my supposed good intentions were stripped away to leave only the destruction I’d left in my wake.

That’s what Carringtons did.

We burned the people we loved the most.

I was an asshole. And I’d fucked up so badly I couldn’t see how I’d ever recover.

I said, “Yes.”

“Of all the women in all the world you could choose, you had sex with and abandoned my sister?” He practically spat the words as he shot to his feet. Every line and tightened muscle of his body spoke of the wild storm of fury inside of him. His lips curled in a snarl. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

He wanted to hit me. Good. I deserved that and so much worse.

Layana ran over to Gabriel and pulled on his arm. She tried to console him, calm him.

I rose to my feet, welcoming whatever wrath he wanted to rain down upon me. I deserved his worst. I deserved resentment.

I was poison.

“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing it was inadequate, knowing it would change nothing.

“You need to leave.” Gabriel’s dark eyes burned with hatred. “Now.”

Layana laid her hand on Gabriel’s chest. Softly, she said, “Gabriel.”

You need to leave—it was the push off the already unstable tightrope I’d clung to.

I’d screwed up the one thing I’d come across the ocean to do, support Gabriel. I’d hurt Gabriel instead. I’d hurt Esme, too.

I refused to do more damage.

A tightness gripped my chest, squeezing like a vise as, leaving me breathless with the weight of my remorse.

Trembling and broken, I left.

THIRTY-TWO

ESME

I paced back and forth, stewing in my bungalow.

I wished I didn’t want to talk to Jasper. I wished finding out information about the biscuit bandit didn’t make me want to run right back and share.

I needed space. I needed to get myself together before I could handle seeing anyone.

A knock sounded on the door.

I paused my angry stalking as panic pinged through my brain. Had Jasper followed me home? Was he trying to apologize? Was I willing to hear him?

Nope. I was not.

“Go away,” I yelled at the door.

“Can’t do that,” a voice yelled back at me.

It wasn’t the voice I expected.

It was Gabe’s.

Of course he’d be upset that I’d disappeared without saying anything from the bonfire. That was selfish. But Jasper was even more selfish for not making up an excuse for me. He went back to the bonfire…didn’t he?

What if we both disappeared without a word? That would not be great.

And me standing here not letting my brother in as I speculated as to his state of mind wasn’t going to help anything.

Feeling like an idiot, I headed for the door and opened it.

Gabe stood on the porch with a weird look on his face. I forced a smile and waved him in.

“You shouldn’t have had to leave your own party just to check in on me,” I said. “Sorry about that. I should have told you I was taking off.”

He didn’t say anything, just looked around with that same weird look. It wasn’t an expression I’d seen on him before. It was tight and upset but also…unhinged? Like he’d been awake for three days and nights drinking energy drinks and then pretending everything was fine. It was very not Gabe.

And then there was the fact that he wasn’t talking, which meant I was compelled to talk more. “The wedding was beautiful. The bonfire was great, too. I didn’t want to leave. I was just….”

I hated to lie to him. But there was absolutely no way I could tell him what was actually going on. And he was still not talking to me.

“My stomach’s acting up again,” I lied. “I thought I was watching what I ate well enough, but turns out I missed something. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll be totally fine by tomorrow for the farewell breakfast.”

He snapped his gaze to me then. Finally, I recognized the look in his eyes, or at least part of it—disappointment.

“If there’s an ounce of truth in that, you should return to the doctor,” he said. “Are you really allergic to Polynesian jerk BBQ sauce, Esme?”

Oh no.

“Of course I am?” Why did that come out sounding like a question. “This is weird. We should be talking about your amazing new life. Better yet, you should be celebrating that bright future with your brand spanking new wife, not wasting your time here with your boring old sister.”

He clenched his jaw.

I internally flinched, but kept my outward appearance cool, or at least I tried.

He said, “You’re pregnant.”

No, no, no.

“How did you…who told you that?” I laughed nervously. “Of course I’m not…how would I even? No way. Not me. Someone gave you bad intel.”

“Jasper is the father.”

My excuses turned to blubbering and then finally into a pathetic whimper.

“It’s true then.” His words were all cold accusation, not a question.

I felt myself shrinking, my faux-calm curling inward like a withered leaf. The air around me thickened, charged with unspoken excuses.

I couldn’t let myself do that, not anymore. I couldn’t hide my true feelings and run away from my problems.

“You’ve been lying to me.” The harsh edge of his tone softened.

He crossed his arms, but not in a way that almost felt like he was hugging himself. Like I’d hurt his feelings.

And that spotlight of hurt cast a long shadow of shame.

Softer still, he said, “Why?”

“I didn’t know,” I said, knowing it sounded like another pathetic lie. “It’s the truth. I found out I was pregnant Friday. I’m trying to process. And I didn’t want to ruin your special day.”

He just stared at me. I stared right back.

“We’ll work out the details of your return to Epiphany.” He let his arms drop. He looked suddenly tired. “I’m staying here tonight and⁠—”

“No.” No way was I having that.

“No?”

I didn’t need his help, certainly not tonight. I was going to figure this all out. But I was doing it on my terms.

“You’re going on your honeymoon in the morning,” I told him. “And you’re spending your wedding night with your bride.”

He still just stared at me.

He didn’t know what to do with himself if I didn’t let him go all dad-zone. Maybe our dynamic, the one that I’d spent so much time lamenting, was as much my own fault as it was his.

It was easy to let him be the adult, to let him fix my problems or hold my hand, to protect me. It was my turn to protect him.

A stinging sensation pricked behind my eyes.

“Get out, Gabriel,” I said. “I don’t want you here.”

As much as I wanted to mean it, it was a lie.

“Es—”

“There’s plenty of time before the baby comes to figure everything out,” I said. “Gabe, it’s your wedding night.”

Each blink was a battle, a feeble attempt to hold back the dam of despair threatening to break.

He furrowed his brows ever so slightly, then he left.

And I felt even more alone than I had before he’d arrived.

The next morning, I spent a little extra time on my hair. Look good, feel good. Maybe looking like I had myself together would help prove to my brother that I had everything under control. If it made Jasper feel worse by showing him what he was missing out on, even better.

But the effort wasn’t for either of them. It was for me.

Looking hot and competent, I entered the breakfast area at the resort.

I steeled myself to see Jasper, but he wasn’t here yet. Even better, I’d be all situated before he arrived, giving me more time to mentally prepare.

And then I’d ignore him, proving his betrayal couldn’t hurt me.

Pretending I wasn’t one sneeze from falling to pieces.

I smiled and slipped in between Oscar and Juno. Everything went fine for a bit, eating and small talk.

“We heard your news,” Juno said. “Congratulations!”

Surprised, I said, “Thank you.”

“A baby is so exciting,” Layana said, squeezing me in a hug. “Congrats. I’m going to be an aunt. You’re going to be a mom.”

“Yes,” I said. “Thanks.”

Had they somehow overheard my fight with Jasper? Had he told everyone? Neither option felt right. I was missing a key piece of information here.

More congratulations were offered. It was surreal and also kind of freeing having everyone know.

Eventually people started to head upstairs to pack up for the plane ride home—Layana’s sisters, Chester and Juno. Morgan rose from her seat and stretched like she and Oscar were about to go, too.

I poked Oscar in the shoulder.

He turned a scowly glare at me. It was the kind of glare that probably made most people wither away, but I grew up with a grump. It didn’t faze me.

“Where’s your brother?” I asked.

His sourness softened slightly, which was scarier than the scowl. A small flit of worry wedged itself between my ribs.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Obviously not,” I said.

“He went home last night.”

Wow. As Oscar’s words washed over me, my heart turned to stone, heavy and cold in my chest. I stared at him, completely dumbfounded and utterly crushed.

Jasper found out he was the father of my baby. He didn’t plan to tell me. And instead of facing me this morning, he left.

It felt like the wind was knocked out of me. My eyes got blurry.

“Are you all right, Esme?” Morgan asked.

I put on a fake smile and nodded. But I was very much not all right.

More words were exchanged.

Hugs were shared.

I sat there, numb. A detached haze stifled the storm of emotions brewing inside of me, leaving me feeling hollow and disconnected from the world.

When everyone else was gone, Layana and Gabriel remained.

Gabriel took the seat across from me. Layana circled around the table and sat beside me. It wasn’t until she took my hand that I popped out of the trance I’d been in, and the world around me came back into focus.

“Is it time for you to go?” I asked Layana.

She looked at Gabriel.

“No,” he said.

I looked back and forth between them.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I can’t be the cause of ruining the most important event of your life.” I sucked in a breath. “Let me let you go.”

Layana squeezed my hand. “We had a beautiful wedding, thanks to you. And you’re family. Being here for you is important to us.”

She hardly knew me, and she was willing to throw her honeymoon away for me. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any of this.

“You should go,” I said, this time weaker.

“We’re not leaving,” Gabriel said.

Not only had I ruined their after-wedding celebration, I was going to ruin their honeymoon. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Worse, a selfish part of me was grateful that they weren’t leaving.

Worse still, Jasper was gone.

THIRTY-THREE

JASPER

As I lay alone in my bedroom with the curtains drawn, the weight of my choices pressed heavily on my heart.

I stared at my phone resting in my palm, the only light in the room. Filling the screen was a picture of Esme in her baggy jeans and threadbare Green Day t-shirt. I’d caught her with her back arched, eyes fluttered shut, and her hands on her breasts.

She’d been teasing me that first night when we’d spent hours searching for a pair of glasses. The image captured Esme perfectly—frustratingly sexy and thrillingly playful.

My every muscle ached with regret and longing.

I told myself I was doing the right thing. I was doing the only thing that I could. I’d crossed a line that could not be uncrossed by sleeping with Esme. The consequences of that indiscretion were forever.

A baby.

Our baby.

I’d shattered the relationship that had meant the most to me—my friendship with Gabriel. We’d been like brothers, and I was closer to him than I was to my biological brothers.

If he were anyone else, I would expect that time would help him forgive me. But not Gabriel. He let so few people into his life, this betrayal would burn especially bright. There was a definite possibility that he would never forgive me.

The loss of that bond should have been what hurt the most. But it wasn’t.

It was losing Esme.

We’d spent only a week together, messing around, having fun. But that week had changed our relationship forever. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, we’d always been friends. She’d always been special to me.

It was her face I saw when I lay down to sleep. It was her teasing and her challenges and the little note she passed me during breakfast that filled my dreams.

Each memory was a haunting reminder of the things I didn’t say, of futures that might have been. Bitter regret lingered on my tongue.

Like her brother, Esme didn’t just hold a grudge—she clung to it like it was lathered in Gorilla Glue.

After over a decade, she still held onto a promise I didn’t remember making, let alone breaking. Me telling her I didn’t want kids, me not telling her that I knew I was the father—this time I’d screwed up far worse.

If I could go back in time and change things I would. But I couldn’t.

If I could wish for anything moving forward, it would be her happiness.

Even if she hated me, I would figure out how to step up for her baby. Our baby.

Even if I screwed up every step along the way. Even if what was best was sending money and not being involved in their lives, because I didn’t deserve them.

The idea of being away from them hurt even more. It was a gnawing, relentless ache that wrapped its tendrils around my heart and squeezed until I thought I might crumble.

I loved her.

The bed felt too large, the room too quiet, and my soul too empty without her by my side. I should have said the words. I should have explained that I’d never felt like this about anyone before, and I was certain I never could about anyone else.

She’d etched herself so thoroughly into my heart, I’d never be the same again.

I loved Esme Stryker with every fiber of my being.

I was supposed to be at my latest project house, but I couldn’t force myself to climb out of bed. I couldn’t face the world. I couldn’t bear to survive the day here, in Epiphany, knowing she was still in Calypso Caribella.

She’d told me to go. Gabriel had told me to go.

The only thing I could do was go.

Yet it felt like the worst mistake I’d made yet.

THIRTY-FOUR

ESME

It took me two days of fear and self-pity before I told Gabriel he had to leave. I locked my doors and refused to let him in. I didn’t go out, either, even though I got really stir crazy.

After another two days, I had a nice chat with Layana on the phone, where I promised to do all the vitamins, all the doctor’s visits, and that I’d call them if there was any kind of problem, no matter how small. They finally left. And the next day, I got a heartfelt text from her along with a picture from their honeymoon, where Gabriel was smiling.

I was doing the right thing.

But returning to my life felt like dragging my limp body through a hot swamp of garbage.

There was no good reason to feel so terrible. I had done hard things alone before, and I was getting exactly what I wanted.

So why didn’t it feel like this was what I wanted?

I pushed away all the thoughts of things I couldn’t change, and focused on my here and now. I scrubbed the bar and forced myself to be a part of the current conversation.

Sage cupped her hand around her ear. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Ziggy asked.

“The sound of no more Mona Maloney,” Sage said.

“It’s peaceful, like it’s supposed to be,” Ziggy said.

“The Maloneys left?” I asked. “I didn’t know.”

“Mona left,” Sage said. “She left Fred behind.”

“Ouch,” I said. “It hurts to be abandoned. I feel sorry for him.”

They both stared at me a little too long, like I was talking about myself, which I was not. Heat carried up my neck.

Time to change the subject. I leveled what I hoped was a no-nonsense glare at Sage. “What’s the truth about the soap opera star and the biscuit bandit?”

“This again?” She waved a dismissive hand.

“Did the ghosts tell you?” Ziggy frowned. “I keep hearing it over and over at night, taunting me.”

Sage snapped a pointed gaze at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I swear, I didn’t mean any harm,” Ziggy said. “The first time I took a biscuit, I didn’t even know Stan had to special order them. It was on the desk, so I thought it was fair game.”

“Reasonable,” I said.

Sage swung her foot at him, but missed. Ziggy still didn’t seem to notice.

“And after I tasted it, wow. I asked for more. He said no.” Ziggy licked his lips. “But once you taste those specialty biscuits, the angels come down singing and trumpets fill the air, and your whole body lights up like an explosion of fireworks and orgasms. There’s no going back.”

“You’re disgusting,” Sage said.

“And the soap opera star?” I suppressed a grin and waited for Sage’s confession.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Sage rose from her seat, chin held high, and walked away.

Ziggy said, “She’s embarrassed about her past. She was a huge star in Brazil in the seventies…or…a long time ago. I don’t know. But if you bring it up again, prepare to face her wrath.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

“It was the ghosts who told you our secrets, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Except ghosts weren’t real. Someone had told me, whoever had been creeping around whispering and repeating private conversations. But whoever was doing it, were they also responsible for the thefts? And if so, how could someone manage to move a bazillion-pound tiki statue? “Hey Ziggy, do you happen to know how that tiki statue ended up on the roof of the resort?”

“Yeah.”

I waited for him to elaborate.

“I helped Stan move it up there,” he said. “It was in a storage closet that needed to get painted.”

“Wasn’t it crazy heavy?”

“Not really. I mean, we had a dolly. That statue isn’t like some of the others around the island, either. It’s hollow.”

“Huh.” Well, that was one mystery solved at least.

Ziggy looked around conspiratorially, clearly not wanting anyone to overhear whatever it was he was about to divulge. He leaned over the bar, concern lining his face. “Sorry about before.”

My mind went blank. I blinked.

“Can we just pretend all of that confession stuff never happened?” he asked with a spark of hope simmering behind his worry lines.

Ah, that’s what this was about. He’d said he loved me. I’d told him I was pregnant. Then he ran away.

I was perfectly content never to discuss it again. Pretend it never happened? I said, “Sure.”

“Good.” he leaned back in his chair, folded his hands over his chest and let out a long exhale. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“Same.”

But honestly, even if I never talked to Ziggy again, how much worse would my life be without him? He was my friend. He was nice—fun, even, but when it came to the ocean of my heart, he didn’t cause so much as a wave.

His absence didn’t leave a chasm in my chest. It didn’t make physical pain radiate out through my limbs or tears stream down my cheeks.

Ziggy wasn’t Jasper.

Over the past few days, colors and sounds felt dull. Even the sun seemed dim.

It was like Jasper had taken all the island’s joy with him.

It sucked.

He sucked.

I didn’t want to miss him. I didn’t want to feel this twisted need to chase after him even though he was the one who’d hurt me.

What was wrong with me?

“I’m so glad to hear that.” Ziggy smiled at me.

I smiled a hollow smile back and laid my hand over the pocket of my dress where I’d stashed my phone.

Gabe was only a text away. Only a few short words and I’d have Jasper’s number.

I pushed the thought away.

Jasper was the one in the wrong here. Even if I did miss him, he had to be the one to reach out to me. Right?

Sage returned from the bathroom and slipped back onto her stool.

I looked between the two people I’d grown closest to in my new life. I shouldn’t be thinking about throwing any of these bonds away. I shouldn’t be debating whether leaving my life on the island would be worth it for another chance with Jasper, but I was.

I wanted to raise my little pecan here.

Sage had told me that no one could do everything by themselves. And even if she was wrong and I could somehow manage it, I didn’t want to.

I wanted a village. I wanted support and love for Pecan and for me.

I trusted my friends’ opinions…well, mostly Sage’s. With as uncertain as everything felt, I could use another perspective on my current situation, too. Opening up now was a start.

“I’m pregnant,” I said, this time without fear.

Ziggy adjusted in his seat and glanced at the door like he wanted to flee, but he didn’t. He stayed.

Sage gave me a warm smile and patted my hand. “Congratulations, Esme.”

I didn’t know if she was congratulating me on the news, or on my newfound courage. Given she already knew I was pregnant, probably both.

“I want to raise my baby here on the island,” I said.

“I volunteer to babysit,” Sage said.

I grinned at her. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll need you.”

“I’ll teach him to scuba dive.” Ziggy flashed me a nervous smile. “And the drums.”

“Thank you, Ziggy. That’ll be great,” I said. “Before we get that far, I have a problem I need to work out. Jasper’s the father.”

Sage’s eyes twinkled. “The pretty one with the long hair.”

“Yes,” I said. “He found out before I did.”

“How does that work?” Ziggy leaned forward and propped his elbows on the bartop.

They both looked at me with interest and compassion. It felt surprisingly good to have someone to talk to about all of this, and even though I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, I felt a little lighter than I had before.

“Well, there was a costume party, and I didn’t know it was him, and then later on he saw the costume in my closet,” I said.

“So he put it together. Then what?” Sage asked.

“He didn’t tell me,” I said.

“Sounds like you found out,” Sage said. “Since you know he’s the father.”

“Yeah, after the wedding. He let it slip,” I said, and my heart broke a little more at the memory.

I could still see the fear in his eyes when he’d thought I lost the baby. I could see the confusion and hurt when I’d told him to leave me alone.

“How much time passed between when he found out and when he told you?” Ziggy asked.

“A day,” I said, knowing it didn’t sound that bad. “But he should have said something right away.”

“One day?” Sage said.

“And that day was your brother’s wedding?” Ziggy asked.

“Well, yes,” I said. “There wasn’t really a good opportunity to talk about it during the wedding, but⁠—”

“You think he should have told you as soon as he found out.” Sage nodded.

“Yes,” I said.

“I don’t know. That’s pretty big news to try and process. Maybe he needed some time,” Ziggy said.

Which was pretty much what Jasper had said.

“But he wouldn’t have told me if it hadn’t slipped,” I said.

“Are you sure about that?” Sage asked.

“He looks at you like you’re the sun and moon and all the stars,” Ziggy said. “I saw him. It’s part of why I….”

He shot a side-eye glance toward Sage, then cleared his throat.

“That part’s not important,” he said. “I think he would have told you. In his own time.”

Would he have?

I ran back through everything that happened that night, then before the wedding the next morning when he’d avoided me, then the way he’d looked at me during the ceremony. Finally, I ran through the conversation we’d started before he’d spotted the wine in the sand.

There’s something I have to⁠—

That’s what he’d said exactly when I’d said we didn’t have to make a big deal about our week-long tryst. I’d been trying to let him off easy; I wanted to let him say goodbye without making it complicated.

What if he hadn’t been trying to say goodbye?

What if he’d been trying to tell me about finding the costume?

It didn’t matter what he might have said, because he hadn’t said it.

“What are you thinking?” Sage asked. “You have that look.”

“What look?” I asked.

“Your analysis look. Like you’re running through your memory scripts,” she said.

“I am,” I said.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Ziggy said. “Everyone gets scared.”

I’d been terrified by the news that I was having a baby. I’d told myself it wasn’t possible, that it had to be a mistake. And I’d hid from the truth. Was it really so bad that Jasper had needed time, too?

Was it really fair to decide that he never would have told me, when that wasn’t what happened?

“What happened after he told you he was the father?” Sage asked.

I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat, but it only grew.

“He said he never wanted kids.”

“Neither do I, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t step up if it came to that,” Ziggy said.

“That must have been difficult to hear,” Sage told me.

“It gutted me,” I said. It still did. “I told him to leave.”

I’d yelled at him. He’d tried to apologize and I’d cursed at him instead of hearing him.

“Is it possible he was trying to tell you that the idea of fatherhood scared him?” Sage asked. “That he wasn’t rejecting you and your baby?”

Ohmygoodness, what if that was exactly what he’d been saying?

“He abandoned me,” I said.

“After you told him to leave?” Ziggy asked.

“Not the island!” I looked back and forth between my friends, with their compassionate expressions.

And I realized that yes, I’d screwed up, too.

But that didn’t change the fact that Jasper had left. And it didn’t take away the pain he’d caused.

This baby was coming, so even if Jasper and I couldn’t figure out how to get along, we needed to figure out how to communicate.

I needed more time. I wanted him to make the next move.

I just hoped he’d do that sooner rather than later, because I didn’t know how to fix what was broken between us.

THIRTY-FIVE

JASPER

I dragged my feet up the new porch steps of my current project house. It had taken days of my assistant Marc’s increasingly frustrated texts and phone calls to get me here.

I patted the freshly-painted yellow front door. “Don’t worry, Brenda. I’m home.”

The words felt empty.

Transforming an underappreciated house so everyone could see her value—this was my calling. The construction site—my happy place.

Except it didn’t feel happy.

Epiphany didn’t feel like home.

When I opened the door, the scents of sawdust and fresh paint greeted me. I breathed them in.

This was where I was supposed to be. This was my life. I loved my life.

How pathetic was it that I had to try to convince myself that I loved my life?

I wandered to the kitchen, taking in the artisan details I’d hired out, and the refinished floors I’d done myself. Restoration was a labor of love. There was nothing like breathing new life into a project with my own two hands.

I leaned against the new farmhouse sink and peered out over Brenda’s freshly landscaped backyard. Amongst the heirloom rose garden, a wooden pergola shaded a bench that looked remarkably like the bench in Gabriel’s back yard that Esme had picked out.

Had I subconsciously made the choice thinking of her, when I hadn’t seen her in years? She was like a climbing rose bush, entwining herself so completely into my system that even when I hadn’t realized I’d been thinking about her, I was.

A bright face popped up in front of the window.

Rosy-cheeked Marc beamed at me. He mouthed you’re here. Then don’t move, with a warning glare.

Then he disappeared, no doubt hurrying around to meet me.

A moment later, he was standing with me in the kitchen, a ball of energy.

“You’re here,” he said.

“Yep.”

“I thought the contractors and their constant disasters were going to be the death of me.”

“I’m glad you’re alive. Sorry to hear it was so much trouble.”

“It’s fine. Or it will be, after the two weeks paid vacation you’re going to offer me.”

I chuckled. “Done.”

He offered me his hand. I shook it, only to find a key slipped into my palm. It was his key to Brenda.

He nodded, a pleased grin on his face. “I’ll be off then. My vacation starts now. How was the wedding?”

“Nice,” I said, but it felt like such a meaningless answer.

The wedding had been heartfelt and joyous. The waves had been all right. No adequate words existed to describe how life-changing the trip had been. Or there were, but I couldn’t express them.

“Calypso Caribella, yass or pass?”

“I wish I never left.”

“So that’s a yes.” He winked at me, tapped my shoulder, then split.

I could still go back.

I had nine months to figure things out. That’s how long it took to grow a baby, right? When did that countdown start exactly?

For now, I needed to focus on my work, on the project and the problems in front of me.

But instead of doing those things, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through article after article about pregnancy. I read about morning sickness, back pain, and trouble sleeping. Then there were mood swings and skin issues and cravings.

Who was going to run to the store in the middle of the night to get pickles and ice cream if that’s what Esme craved?

It should be me.

The idea of someone else stepping into that role made my head throb. Or when her feet swelled and she had something heavy to lift, what would she do if she had no one?

She shouldn’t have to do all of this alone.

I’d thought I had the perfect life here, with everything figured out. But I couldn’t go five minutes without wishing I had never left that island.

My life was meaningless without Esme in it.

I didn’t just want to be there for the baby.

I wanted Esme.

But my epic fuck-up proved I didn’t deserve her.

How much more would I hurt her if I returned? What if she ended up like my mom, so heartbroken she walked around for years with a shellshocked and exhausted look on her face? What if I screwed up our kid as badly as my dad screwed me up?

I scrubbed my palms over my eyes.

A knock came from the front door. Marc must have forgotten something since he’d turned in his key.

“Coming,” I called as I headed over to let him back in.

I opened the door.

Marc wasn’t standing there, though. Instead I was looking at my brothers, Oscar and Sebastian.

The pair couldn’t look less alike, and only part of that was because of us all having different mothers. Oscar was a walking scowl, all work and no fun. Sebastian was all fun and no work.

“Do I want to ask what brings the two of you together?” I asked. “I don’t think I can handle another funeral right now.”

“Invite us in,” Oscar said.

I stepped back and gestured for them to enter.

Oscar looked around the living room, his hands in his pockets.

Sebastian said. “This quaint little home really proves that happiness isn't always tied to square footage. It's like a rustic dollhouse.”

It was intended as a compliment, even if it didn’t completely sound that way.

“Thanks,” I told him. “Why exactly are you guys here? Not answering me makes it seem like someone really did die.”

Oscar stood beside Sebastian, the two of them facing me together, like two people who actually liked each other. If I wasn’t concerned about what was going on here, I’d be happy for the progress they were making in their relationship.

“This is an intervention,” Oscar said.

“Oh? An intervention for what?”

“You did it for me,” Oscar said. “We’re repaying the favor.”

“You can owe me for later,” Sebastian said with a little shrug.

I hadn’t done anything special for Oscar.

“You screwed up. You have to apologize,” Sebastian said.

“I’m…sorry?” I chuckled a nervous chuckle. “What am I apologizing for?”

“Not to us,” Oscar said. “To Esme.”

Oh.

“I know she told you to leave her alone. I know Gabriel told you to leave, too. I know more details than I care to,” Oscar said.

Sebastian shot him a questioning look.

“Morgan and Layana are best friends,” he said.

Sebastian didn’t seem to understand any more than he had before.

“The point is, you shouldn’t have left the island,” Oscar said.

“I had to,” I said.

“Why?” Sebastian asked.

“You two of all people should understand,” I said.

“Dad,” Oscar said.

“You’re not him,” Sebastian said.

“I took one woman along with me to the wedding and slept with another while I was there,” I said.

“That’s an oversimplification of the situation and you know it,” Oscar said.

Sebastian said, “If you’re not there for her and for your kid, that’s what makes you like Dad.”

“I’m going to screw up,” I said.

“Everyone screws up,” Oscar said.

“You love her,” Sebastian said.

“He does,” Oscar said.

“Love isn’t enough,” I said.

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Oscar said.

Sebastian laughed.

“I want to move there,” I said. “But we didn’t talk about that. She might not want⁠—”

“Go,” Oscar said.

“I have a business here. I can’t ask my assistant Marc to keep working on this place. I need to do it myself.”

“What do you need to do?” Sebastian asked.

“Manage the contractors, mostly. A thousand final details before she’s ready for market.”

“I’ll do it,” Sebastian said with a shrug like it was nothing.

“It’s a lot,” I said.

“I have the time,” he said.

They both looked at me. I couldn’t believe they were here giving me the push I needed. I couldn’t believe I was going to drop my entire life to move to another country.

I grabbed them both and hugged them.

I loved Esme, even if I didn’t deserve her. I couldn’t see how that could be enough, but maybe she would see it.

Maybe love was enough.

I just needed Esme to give me a chance.

Finally getting my head out of my ass, I got to work on what I needed to do to win her back, including a ton of paperwork, and making a ton of calls, including investing in a particularly risky venture.

The separation from her still hurt like hell, but at least now I was doing something about it.

I left Brenda behind and didn’t look back.

I wanted something different than I’d thought. I wanted to fight for love, and for the woman who I’d loved in one form or another for our whole lives.

THIRTY-SIX

ESME

I tossed and turned in bed, frustrated with the dream that kept relentlessly parading through my brain. No matter how many times I woke up to try and reset, the dream kept repeating.

I was at the costume party.

But instead of a faceless astronaut rocking my world, it was Jasper. I could see his face, touch his skin, and hold on so tightly to him that it would be impossible for him to ever leave.

When I opened my eyes, the warm feeling faded along with his clean, yet wild, scent.

And I was alone, shivering in the darkness, wishing both that he was here, and that I’d stop tormenting myself. He was the one who’d left. He was the one hiding the truth from me.

He rejected me.

The sooner I moved past this very clear fact, the sooner I could be happy again.

I stared at the ceiling, way too awake.

I didn’t want to relive the dream or those feelings again. I wanted peace.

I climbed out of bed, tossed on some pants and shoes, then skateboarded down the street, hoping fresh air would help me calm my agitation.

Quickly I found myself standing in front of the ruins. This was the last place I needed to go if I didn’t want to think about Jasper.

But I was already here, and the hole in the fence was just waiting there for someone to walk through it. Plus, Jasper never found his luggage. What would it hurt if I took one last peek?

Then I could put all of this behind me. I could put him behind me.

Closure—that was all I wanted.

I set down my skateboard and slipped through the hole in the fence. I paused by the bush where Jasper had found his underpants.

A small chuckle bubbled up in my chest. I wasn’t just here to feel closer to Jasper. I felt lighter and more certain than before that this was actually a good idea.

I heard a whisper carry over the wind. “Just another warm place to stick your dick.”

The words felt like a fork to my heart. I’d said those words to Jasper. It wasn’t my recorded voice replaying back now. It was different.

“No big deal, so easy to forget,” the wind whispered.

Except the wind didn’t whisper, and there was no such thing as ghosts.

Ziggy had mentioned being tormented by the whispers, and I wasn’t going to let that happen to me. I was getting to the bottom of this. Now.

I hurried toward the sound of the voice, careful not to trip over any of the rubble.

It led me deeper into the ruins than I’d ever been, up and up the stairs. The farther I went, the worse the conditions grew. I had to find out who was doing this. I refused to believe it was ghosts. A real person was taunting me, and had been taunting the whole resort. I had to catch them and solve this mystery.

“Maybe there was a hurricane,” the voice said, this time louder. It seemed…not like wind, and not quite right, either. “That only damaged the one building? There’d be evidence elsewhere, too. The answer is clear. Ghosts. Obviously.”

This was my conversation with Jasper, the last time we were here. Still, the whisperer taunted me.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” I yelled back at whoever was here.

“You’re just confused. It happens. Two piña coladas. Keep them coming.”

Fred Malone had said that, the day I found out Gabe was coming here for his wedding. Had this person been spying on me all this time? How long had this been happening?

A small bit of nerves spread from my middle slowly into my limbs, tempering my fiery sense of justice. What if this was actually dangerous, and I was here all alone and then something really bad happened?

Loud and close, the voice said, “Poop on the stoop.”

Worry completely doused my flame of curiosity. But it was too late.

I could hear breathing above me.

It was like watching a horror movie and screaming at the screen, run, dummy! But even as I screamed it at myself now, in my own head, my limbs refused to move.

Slowly, I lifted my chin and looked up.

And I saw the one who had told so many secrets. And the truth was even stranger than the rumors.

It was a parrot.

“Stan dips his mustache in candle wax,” the bird said.

“No way,” I said. “It was you?”

“Pretty bird. Stupid bird.”

A rustling noise pulled my attention across the room. What was up here? A whole family of gossiping parrots?

I spotted a mountain of things that looked too new, too undamaged to have been here when the resort fell apart.

Right on top was a metal spatula—Rufus’s anole smasher. No way was I returning that to him. Let it stay lost forever.

There were lots of sunglasses, some watches, and a strangely large number of underpants. It was probably better not to look too far into that.

But a parrot couldn’t carry all of this stuff. Was the parrot working with a person? Was a man going to jump out from behind a floppy sun hat at any moment?

I’d come too far to give up now. So, I kept on digging through the pile, until I unearthed something shiny. Two something shinies—a pair of eyes staring up at me.

“Ah!” I fell back, ready to cut my losses.

But then a brown shape scurried out. It was about as big as a medium sized dog, but very thin, with a long tail and a flat face.

It was a monkey.

There was no parrot family, no human weirdo, just a gossipy parrot and a klepto primate. The two of them didn’t belong together, that was for sure, but they’d chosen to live here anyway, tormenting the people around them in the most hilarious way.

“You guys are trouble.”

“Trouble,” the parrot said.

I dug through the pile until I found something that made me pause.

It was a luggage tag with a gummy bear embroidered onto it, just like the gummy bears on Jasper’s favorite underpants.

My heart skipped a beat.

I unearthed the luggage attached and found an open bag with some of the contents spilling out. I opened the bag and tucked a loose shirt and pair of shorts back inside when I saw something completely unexpected.

It was a bracelet, made of tiny pink rubber bands. It was the friendship bracelet I had given him when we were kids. Out of all of the belongings that he’d lost when his luggage was stolen, this was the one thing he’d been concerned about losing.

My heart was full. Everything changed in an instant.

He cared, even when it seemed like he didn’t. Jasper had always cared about me.

We were just like the monkey and the parrot, two weirdos who shouldn’t work together, but somehow did.

I needed to reunite our weird duo.

Yes, he’d screwed up, but I screwed up plenty, too. If he’d had the chance, he would have figured out how to tell me. It sucked that he hadn’t figured it out ahead of time. But we were both thrown into a storm of a situation, and even if we got some bumps and bruises along the way, we were better together.

Maybe I just needed to show him that.

My life was better with him in it, and even if it put my heart on the line, I needed to try.

I gathered up anything that looked like it might be his into the suitcase, and bid the parrot and monkey farewell.

Then, with Jasper’s suitcase and my skateboard in hand, I booked the next flight to Epiphany.

THIRTY-SEVEN

ESME

After a quick visit to the doctor to get the okay, because safety first, I was off. But I realized on my flight that I didn’t know where Jasper lived. I knew where he’d grown up, of course. And as far as I knew, his mom was still there.

I parked my rental car on the road and walked down the long driveway for a few extra minutes to prepare.

Not only was I not completely sure if Jasper’s mom lived here, but I also didn’t know what would be appropriate to say to her.

Like hey, by the way, you remember me as the little terror screaming in the field next to your house for years and stealing all your popsicles, that’s me. And now I’m having your grandbaby, surprise! Showing up would lose some of its sweetness as a gesture if I also spilled the beans to his mom without his permission.

Had he told her? Maybe he had, but probably not. Definitely not if he was really set on not having kids.

And now I was starting to talk myself out of this whole thing.

It was too late for that.

I was committed. This was happening.

I stopped at the front door, shook out my arms, took a breath, and knocked.

I listened for footsteps or the locks turning or anything.

But no one came.

There wasn’t a car in the driveway either, so it was possible she wasn’t home. Yeah, I probably should have planned this better.

I leaned sideways, careful not to step into the flowerbed, and squinted to see into the window. I didn’t see any movement, and no one was staring back at me.

I knocked one more time for good measure, then waited a bit longer, before eventually accepting the fact that I was not going to find Jasper this way.

But now that I was already here….

I stared across the field to the house I grew up in. No way could I come back to Epiphany and not visit Oma.

We’d talked in the months since I’d left. But I never did tell her why I ran away.

And now I was here.

I let out a breath and started across the field. One foot in front of the other—that’s all I had to do. She was Oma, the sweetest person in the entire world. What was I worried about?

North Carolina felt like an entirely different world than Calypso Caribella. The air felt different. The smells were different. Instead of endless summer, it was solidly spring here with a cold bite on the breeze and brown grass beneath my feet.

Every sense sparked memories, good and bad.

As I crossed the field I used to play in, I spotted what was once the patch of sticker bushes Jasper had nicknamed me after. The brambles had grown over the years from a patch into a mighty, impenetrable fortress of thorns. I decided to compare myself to its growth and strength, and not to the fact that it looked like the kind of place movie monsters would lurk.

The brambles had thrived. I was thriving.

Too soon, I reached the old farmhouse. I lingered in front of the door, my hand trembling slightly.

Every memory I had of Oma was wrapped in warmth and wisdom, in chocolate chip cookies and hugs. This wasn’t just going to be okay; it was going to be exactly what I needed.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Oma was seated in her favorite chair by the fireplace. A gentle smile lit up her face as she spotted me.

“Oh, dear Esme.” Her voice was a soothing melody of welcome.

My heart pounded as I approached.

Oma rose from her seat and hugged me hard. Tears sprung out of nowhere, and I laughed and wiped them on the back of my hand.

“I missed you,” I said.

“I missed you, too,” she said. “So much.”

She pulled away and sat back down in her seat. She patted the chair beside hers. “Come sit. Tell me everything.”

So much had happened in my life since I was here last, I didn’t know where to start.

Sensing this, and what I could only assume was a lost look on my face, Oma said, “What is it about Calypso Caribella that you fell in love with?”

A lightness filled my chest. “Everything. It’s the air, and the people, and the fact that I can step out of my front door in the morning onto the beach. The water’s so clear you can see your toes in the white sand even if you’re waist deep.”

“Like stepping into a travel magazine.”

“Yes. There’s just this sense of serenity I’ve never felt anywhere before. And then there’s the colors. It’s like a crayon box exploded all over the plants. And the food. Ohmygoodnessgracious, the food.”

She chuckled warmly. “You always had a sweet tooth. I bet tropical fruits taste even better fresh.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s like healthy candy. And the spices wake my tongue right up. And there’s these cheese patties.”

The warmth in Oma’s eyes, the openness in which she sat, the love I felt just being here with her…all of it made my hesitation to come back to Epiphany feel silly. So did holding back my news.

“Oma,” I said. “I have something important to tell you.”

“All right.”

“I’m pregnant.”

A prickle of uncertainty swirled in my stomach as I searched Oma’s face for her reaction. What was probably only a fraction of a second of silence felt like minutes of suspended anticipation.

“How are you feeling about it?” she asked, completely neutral, leaving space for me to feel my feelings without shame.

“Terrified, mostly. But okay maybe, too,” I said. “Hopeful?”

Oma’s face broke into a joyous smile. “My dearest Esme, that’s marvelous news.”

My emotions mingled in a choking mix.

Oma grabbed my hands and squeezed. “You have always been a wonder of strength and courage. It was evident since you were a toddler. This one time we were out back in the garden. You couldn’t have been more than two. I looked away for one second, and this giant dog appeared out of nowhere. It was twice your height and standing a foot away from you, staring you right in the eye.”

“Jeez.”

You were about yay high.” She gestured down toward the floor. “Your brother was almost as tall as I am nowadays, and he froze. Not you. You ran toward it.”

“Sounds reckless.”

“You were brave.”

“I do like animals.”

“You’ve always been brave, Esme. So brave and so strong. I truly believe there is nothing in this world you couldn’t handle.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I mean it. And you’re not alone. I’d do anything for you. And it would bring me no greater joy than to help you in any way I can.”

I stood up and put my arms out. She rose and hugged me.

I felt the truth in her words and the love in her embrace.

“I left because I needed space from my brother,” I told her.

“I know, dear. You have to do what’s best for you. And now your little one, too.” She pulled back and squeezed my shoulders. “Now wait here. I have something for you.”

“Should I be worried?” I said as she bustled off to another room. “I don’t think I can handle a hand-me-down pregnancy nightgown right now. Or ever, really.”

She chuckled. “You never know what you might like by the later stages.”

I shook my head as she returned with an old, dusty tote in hand.

I asked. “What’s in there?”

“Treasures from the past.”

“Now I really am worried it’s a nightgown, or a whole bunch of them.”

She set the box on the coffee table and waved a hand at my suggestion. “These are memories—yours and your brother’s, mine, and a few pieces from your father’s misadventures.”

Okay, she’d piqued my interest.

“Dad had misadventures?” I asked as we returned to our seats.

“Oh yes. He was fearless, just like you.”

“I have fear.”

She opened the box, pulled out a wooden toy truck, and handed it to me. The red paint was worn off along the edges and one of the wheels was crooked.

“Your father's,” Oma said. “He insisted it was magic with the power to fly. He ended up on the roof once, trying to prove it.”

“Oh no.” Delight bubbled up into my words. I’d never heard this kind of story about my dad before, and it was awesome.

“Fortunately all he broke was his arm.”

Next, Oma pulled out a stack of papers. They were drawings, and the one on top was a cityscape done in pen, all straight lines and perfect angles.

“That’s Gabe’s,” I said.

She nodded. Then she flipped to the next paper, which looked like a unicorn barfed up a glitter rainbow.

“Ah, from your artistic phase,” Oma said.

“Artistic is a generous word.”

The difference between Gabe and me had never been more obvious.

“Maybe it’s a cow. You were always drawing animals,” she said as she flipped over the paper. “Oh. This one was supposed to be of you and the boy next door.”

“Jasper.”

She offered me the paper. I took it, looking for any kind of human shapes in the mess of colorful scribbles. There weren’t any, but it was still sweet. He’d always been special to me, even when this was how I showed it.

Oma offered me another piece—a tiny, poorly-knitted hat.

Her eyes misty, she said, “Your dad made this for you.”

I felt the soft threads against my fingers. I didn’t know my dad knew how to knit. Apparently he didn’t do it so well, which made it even more special.

“Can I have this?” I asked.

“You can have anything you’d like.”

“I’d like the drawing, and the truck, too. If that’s all right.”

“More than all right. I want you to have them. I have some of yours and your brother’s baby clothes if you’d like to see those, too.”

“Yes, please.”

I picked a couple of fun pieces from Oma’s stash. It was a joyful journey through the past, and the entire visit was a reminder that life’s moments, big and small, were to be cherished. I ended up with a slew of interesting stories I could pass on to Pecan one day, and a bunch more I could use to blackmail my brother should the need ever arise.

As I walked back to my rental car, I wondered what I should do next to find my way back to Jasper.

But then I got a text.

I pulled out my phone. The text was from my brother.

Gabe: I know you don’t want me to worry about you while I’m on my honeymoon.

Me: Yup.

Gabe: After consideration, I have come to terms with your situation. As much as possible.

Me: Layana talked sense into you.

Gabe: She did. She’s made multiple valuable points in favor of letting loose of my grip on your life. I apologize for being overbearing at times in my concern for your safety and wellbeing.

Me: You’re a bear because you love me. I get it.

Gabe: That’s not an excuse for my behavior. If ever there was a person with enough love to properly treat you the way you deserve to be treated, it’s Jasper.

Gabe: I should have handled the situation better. I was thrown by the suddenness and delivery of the information. A voice like the wind said that you were pregnant and that Jasper was the father.

Me: Parrot.

Gabe: ?

Me: Never mind. You were saying?

Gabe: My harsh response is why Jasper left a night early.

I’d also been harsh the same night.

Me: It’s not your fault.

Gabe: It is. I hope you can find your way back to each other. And I hope you’ll allow me to make it up to you.

Me: Absolutely. There’s nothing to make up. You’re forgiven. But I do love gifts.

Gabe: I hope the crib I had sent is a good start.

Me: Uhhh.

Gabe: It didn’t arrive yet?

Me: I’m in Epiphany. Surprise!

Me: That finding our way back thing—I’m trying to do that…but I don’t have Jasper’s number.

The next texts came in quick, with Jasper’s number, and his assistant’s.

Gabe: Marc knows Jasper’s schedule at all times.

Me: <3

Gabe: I love you, too, Esme.

I began a text to Jasper, then stopped.

I’d already come all this way. It’d be stupid to just send him a text to work things out. That was fine for me and Gabe. But for Jasper, to prove I was ready to go all in, to show him I cared as much as he did when he’d packed the friendship bracelet for the wedding, I needed to do more.

THIRTY-EIGHT

JASPER

The airport was bustling, but as I sat in a quiet corner and traced my finger over the top of my note, I felt like I was in my own little world.

Jasper,

You are my oldest and dearest friend. Upon reflection, I am ashamed of allowing shock to taint my response to what truly is joyous news.

Over the years you’ve shown me nothing but compassion. I should have treated you with the same grace. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my overreaction and incivility.

No two people deserve to find love more than you and Esme. Going forward, I will be your relationship’s most devoted supporter.

Sincerely,

Gabriel

I slipped the parchment back into its envelope before stashing it in my bag and turning my attention to the massive airport window. Gabriel had apologized. I didn’t deserve it, but I appreciated the sentiment. And I was glad I’d checked my mail one last time before I’d left, or I would have missed it.

After I figured out all of the details of my new life, and after he returned from his honeymoon, we’d have to get together to have a proper chat. For now, I was grateful that the damage I’d caused wasn’t irreparable.

I was also grateful for his support of my relationship with Esme, whatever that would end up being.

If I had my way, she and I would spend the rest of our lives solving silly mysteries. We’d spend every night wrapped up in each other. And we’d raise our baby together, as a family.

I’d never wanted anything more in my life.

I watched planes lifting off the tarmac, each one a symbol of new beginnings. Hopeful anticipation thrummed through my veins.

My belongings were already on a boat somewhere on their way to the Caribbean. A room in the same resort I’d stayed in before awaited me. My properties were secured in a trust, managed by my brother Sebastian, with my assistant Marc at the ready to help him over the coming months.

All my ducks were in a row, and I was about to embark on the greatest adventure of my life. I couldn’t help but feel like everything had led me to this moment, leaving the life I knew behind for the woman I loved.

The attendant at the gate called my flight. I boarded the plane and stashed my carry-on in the overhead compartment.

I settled into my seat with a sigh of contentment and nerves.

As I waited for the remaining passengers to settle, I set the Milky Way I’d brought for Esme down at the top of my notepad.

I had a few hours still to figure out exactly what I wanted to say to Esme.

In November, Esme and I didn’t recognize each other at the costume party because neither of us should have been there. I was only invited as a replacement for my father. Esme had snuck in.

Yet we found each other.

I had to believe that meant something. Maybe part of us recognized each other then, even if we didn’t completely know it at the time. Maybe we’d always been crashing through the brambles to find each other.

I scribbled a few ideas out as I tried to find the right words. She deserved poetry and pizzazz. Everything had to be perfect, because Esme was perfect.

Ooh, that was good. I wrote it down.

From the corner of my eye, I saw someone plop into the seat beside me.

And I smelled strawberries, almost like Esme, which was impossible because Esme was in Calypso Caribella.

I didn’t look up, only stared more intently at my notepad.

But whoever my new seatmate was, they leaned in a bit too close, invading my personal space.

I snapped my head up to see what this person’s problem was.

My heart skipped a beat, or maybe it stopped all together.

I knew those glossy lips, those pink cheeks, those playful, sparkling brown eyes that could suck me in like maple syrup and trap me there forever.

Awareness pricked across my skin, along with the anticipation of touching her, holding her, claiming every inch of her with my lips. This time, I wouldn’t let my insecurities stop me from telling her everything I needed to say.

I must be dreaming; I was imagining her presence because I missed her so much.

“Esme is perfect.” Her lips curved upward as she read my words. “I like the sound of that.”

“How….” Now that she was in front of me, my tongue tied. She was so beautiful, like sunrise over the ocean, with hair and a smile just as bright.

“I know.” She angled her body toward me. “I’m a total stealth virtuoso. I’m thinking about starting a new career as a ninja.”

I grabbed her cheeks and kissed her hard. It was an apology, a promise, and a proclamation. It wasn’t enough. I’d never get enough.

When I let go, she looked dazed from the heat of it.

I turned toward her as fully as I could in the seat. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Ruining your grand return?”

“I wouldn’t say ruining.”

“Spoiling then.”

“You could never. I’m so glad to see you. I should never have left.”

She nodded. “Yeah, but you were coming back.”

“And you’re here. Why are you here?”

“To see you, obviously, and be the grand poobah of grand gestures. I beat you to it, so I win.”

I kissed her again. “Feels like I win.”

“As if.”

I chuckled. “I’m sorry I left. I should have stayed to talk things out. I’m sorry I didn’t speak up right away about the costume. I needed time to process, in the hopes that when I said something, I’d say it right.”

“And this is it?” She pointed at my pathetic draft.

I shrugged. “You interrupted my brainstorming time, so now you get what you get.”

“Well I still like it. If anything, it makes my win seem even bigger. I found your luggage, brought it all the way up to North Carolina for you.” She lifted the bracelet. “And this.”

“It’s a good bracelet,” I said.

“I made it for you. A billion years ago.”

“I remember.”

“And you kept it.”

“I did. It was a friendship bracelet from one of my very best friends.”

Her gaze flicked to the candy bar.

“It’s for you,” I said.

She grinned wider. “I was going to ask to share, and if you said no, I’d have wrestled you for it.”

I was pretty sure I would have enjoyed that. “You told me a story about when we were kids.”

She flinched. “The betrayal. I probably shouldn’t have held onto that for so long. I definitely shouldn’t have called you a disaster. You’re no more of a disaster than I am.”

“I would never have hurt you on purpose,” I said.

“I know that.”

“And I want to tell you the most important story to me from when we were kids.”

She peeled the wrapper and watched me, an adorable expression of nervousness flicking across her face.

“That candy bar is from my first memory of you. My dad had just kicked Mom and me out. I was angry and hurt and I’d moved into a brand-new house where I didn’t know anyone. You offered me a part of your candy bar.”

“Half my Milky Way,” she said. “I remember that.”

“More like a third,” I said. “And you told me that you’d punch whoever made me sad.”

“I’d still do that,” she said.

“And I felt less alone, because of you. You might not think we’ve always been friends, but I know we have. Even if we grew apart for a while, we’re bonded forever over that chocolate and caramel.”

She took my hand, her fingers trembling slightly. “They don’t have Milky Ways on the island. They’re my favorite. More than the artisan caramels they sell there.”

“Good to know.” I’d order more, have them delivered in bulk.

Her eyes grew misty. She took in a breath, slow and steady. “And I know it’s not as grand a gift as the Milky Way, but I found your bag and solved the mystery. It was a monkey who stole your suitcase, and a parrot who shared everyone’s secrets.”

Life was stranger than fiction. A monkey and a parrot had brought us together, only to tear us apart, and now bring us together once more. I said, “A dastardly duo.”

“Like us.”

I chuckled, my heart full.

“I also got you these.” She pulled a small box out of her pocket and handed it to me. “Because I’m sorry, too. I snapped at you when I should have listened. I didn’t want you to leave the island, even when I told you to go away. I’m going to try and work on taking time before I react, and on giving you the benefit of the doubt before blowing up in your face.”

I opened the box and found a pair of cufflinks. The ends were shaped like gummy bears.

“This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. Thank you, Esme.”

A pleased smile crossed her face. “Better than a candy bar? Even if that candy bar is a delicious Milky Way with a beautiful heartfelt story to go along with it?”

“Probably,” I said. “But also, I bought you the resort.”

She just blinked at me. “What?”

“Not the new one. The ruins. I bought it. It turns out, it was abandoned because of a previous owner’s cash flow issues, not ghosts.”

“Interesting. Why would I want the ruins? I mean it’s cool in a creepy way, and we have history there, but that place is a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

I pushed away my doubts and continued. “I’m going to transform it into what the island needs.”

“Again, not really feeling like a for-me thing. And the island already has a functional resort.”

“That’s why I’m making it into a turtle sanctuary.”

Her eyes went wide. “What?”

“They need more protection. I heard from a reliable source that people try to pick the turtles up and accidentally trample the eggs. Education for tourists could go a long way. A sanctuary could also provide better protections than volunteers currently can alone.”

“You didn’t.” She chewed her lip and looked at me like she couldn’t believe it.

“What do you say—want to save some turtles, raise a kid, and make a lifetime of new memories together?”

“I see how you grouped all of those make it seem like if I want one, I need to take them all.”

I grinned at her. “I love you, Bramble. I always have.”

“Yes,” she said. “I love you, too. And my answer is yes.”

THIRTY-NINE

JASPER

Five months later

Esme twirled behind the bar, snatching a tiny umbrella from a box.

“Whoa.” She paused and put a hand to her belly.

I popped up from my seat. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“I think Pecan’s going to be a ballerina. Come here, feel.”

I hurried around the bar to her. She put my hand to her round belly just in time for me to feel a turn and a kick. It was the best feeling in the world being able to touch both of them, even though Pecan hadn’t arrived yet.

I was still terrified I’d screw up, but the closer to the big day we came, the calmer I felt. If anyone could figure out how to tackle a new challenge as a team, it was us, if the turtle center was any indication. The monkey and parrot duo got their own little tower to stay in at the center, too.

“Not a ballerina,” I said. “A gymnast. No, wait…a parkourist.”

She chuckled. “That’s not a word.”

“Sure it is, someone who is a master of parkour, the ancient art of urban climbing. Like a mountain climber, only cooler.”

“Okay, parkourist, pro skateboarder, and home restorer.”

“That’s a lot for one person to master,” I said.

“She’ll be able to do everything. But we won’t push her into doing any of it. She’ll choose her own path, and we’ll support her in it.”

“Of course. We’ll encourage her to follow her dreams, even if that dream is an office job.”

“What? No. Eww. She won’t like that.”

I raised a brow.

She sighed. “If she does, we’ll support her.”

I slid my hand down the swell of her belly. Her eyes darted back and forth before she smiled, pulled me outside by the collar, and kissed me like no one else had ever kissed me. She kissed me like she loved me forever.

FORTY

ESME

Another two weeks later

I never thought the sound of crying would both break my heart and fill it to the brim. But, as I lay on the hospital bed hearing Pecan’s first wails, tears ran down my cheeks and I thought I might burst.

Jasper was right by my side, holding my hand, watching me like I was his entire world—almost. Now we weren’t just us anymore, now we were three.

He kissed my forehead as the nurse lowered the most beautiful little person into my arms.

“She’s as perfect as you,” Jasper said, so quietly my exhausted brain could have hallucinated it.

Everything seemed to happen in a flurry after that. Oma came in, bearing flowers. She would be staying with us for as long as I needed. Those were her exact words, and I was already so freaking grateful. Jasper had already rented out the house next door for her. Gabriel and Layana came, with balloons and a onesie with Future World Changer written on the front. It was a lot, and I was so tired, but also so glad that they came all this way just to see us.

Jasper’s brothers and mom were giving us a little time before they made the trip, and I was grateful for that, too.

When we were eventually alone, I turned to Jasper and asked, “How is it possible to feel so much gratitude, so much joy, and have so many tears at the same time?”

“You just ran a marathon with an elephant on your back during a firestorm, all to claim first place prize at the finish line.”

I did love to win a good competition.

My eyelids felt so heavy, I thought I might doze off at any second. “Take her.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d held her. But it was the first time I’d had a chance to really watch him. He gently lifted our sleeping angel from my arms and because of the love I saw on his face, I knew we were going to be just fine.

“We can’t call her Pecan forever,” I said, although my delusional, exhausted brain begged to differ. “Maybe we can. I don’t know, it’s cute. Is it cute in a people way or cute in a puppy way?”

“I know what name I would pick.”

“This part’s a team effort,” I said. “Lay it on me.”

“Briar.”

“Just like Bramble.”

“If we’re lucky.” He smiled so wide at our girl, my already brimming heart grew two more sizes.

“I feel pretty lucky,” I said.

“Me, too.”

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You can find all of Keira’s books on Amazon HERE.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sassy. Snarky. Supernaturally Sparkly.

Keyboard ninja, late-blooming bibliophile, proud geek, animal lover, eternal optimist, visual artist.

USA Today Bestselling Author Keira Blackwood writes exciting romance with all the snort laughs and all the feels.

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