Page 50 of Acadia Falls

What did I want it to be?

Perfect, I guess. Rock solid, with no drama. Like my parents.

Rose and Sean Brennan were hard-working, and they were both dedicated to our family. They were always there for us—even though my father had skipped our births. He’d been out working to support us even then. He was all-fish, but it was for a reason: his wife and kids.

My father had always been focused. He’d been sure of himself, and he’d been sure of my mother. Our family had been his whole world.

I’d stayed single simply because I’d… stayed single. I didn’t want a girlfriend just for the sake of having one. What was the point of investing time and energy into a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere? I didn’t want to waste my time or anyone else’s. If she wasn’t the future Mrs. Jack Brennan, why bother?

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten to know someone I was interested in. Maybe never? Was that possible? Sure, I partied, but I was focused on work. Even though I was a perfect gentleman, the women I slept with were always just a hookup for me. I was never mean or dismissive. I just wasn’t into having a relationship.

Not ever. Not until… now? Is that what was happening?

I took the exit for Bar Harbor. Maran was only here for the summer, I reminded myself. A summer fling. Everybody had them, that was part and parcel of living on the island. It was one of the perks of freezing your ass off all year, living on LSI when it was a bleak, deserted tundra. When July hit, and all the pretty tourists flocked in, wearing their bikinis, we islanders could pick and choose.

The hot female tourists were great, and I sure did love a bikini. Still, this season felt different. I would never admit it to myself—because it meant that my mother was right—but I was getting a little old for a summer fling.

It didn’t matter. Maran’s residency on the island had a shelf life. She was already committed to returning to New York and starting her big-time lawyer job. That spelled disaster for me if I let myself get attached.

Get more attached.

I punched someone just for talking to her.

I’m chasing her to the mainland because I’m worried she’s going to catch a cold…

It didn’t matter how attached I was getting. The relationship, if that’s what it was, was going nowhere. Yes, I liked Maran. Yes, she was beautiful and sweet. Yes, I was insanely attracted to her. Yes, she was intelligent, engaging, and funny, all I might want in a girlfriend.

But so what?

One thing my father had taught me was to keep my eye on the ball. In this case, the ball was our fishing route. I still had Everly Reyes’s offer to consider, not to mention the ongoing fight with Trey and Cuddy.

I cursed and gripped the wheel tighter. I hadn’t even been thinking about Everly Reyes and her billion-dollar offer because I’d been too busy not thinking about Maran. Motherfucker! Between punching Charlie in the face, fishing early, and running after my favorite blonde, I’d forgotten that Everly had texted me late the night before.

She wanted an answer, and she wanted it soon.

I hadn’t responded to the billionaire. Instead, I was hauling ass off-island on a rescue mission because Maran had insisted on hiking in the middle of a monsoon.

Eye on the ball, kid. I could just picture my old man frowning down on me from heaven. A billion dollars is a lot of money.

I know that, Dad. But do you really want me to sell?

There was no answer. As usual, Dad wanted me to figure it out for myself.

It had crossed my mind that the money would set my mother up for the rest of her life. She could afford care—live-in help, if she ever needed it. But I couldn’t picture Rose Brennan letting someone actually help her. She’d probably be chopping firewood, pulling weeds, and canning tomatoes until she was ninety-eight.

As if she somehow knew I was thinking about her, my mother called.

“Jack. You off-island?”

“Yup.” I kept my eyes on the road.

“Why?” Rose Brennan was nothing if not direct.

“I’m running an errand.”

“Your brother said you’re picking up that girl.” Her tone was slightly accusatory. “Is it the same one from the other night?”

I groaned. “Why are you asking me this, Mom?”