Page 23 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

My phone chimes, and he gives my butt a squeeze before letting me go so I can check the message.

Becca: He’s fine. We had breakfast together. The garage is a mess. He’s organizing. She added an eye roll emoji. Stop worrying, and spill! I want all the details.

A devil emoji pops up.

Me: Can’t spill now. Not alone.

I glance at Seth as I put my phone in my pocket and find him watching me as he transfers eggs onto plates.

He arches a brow. “Tinder date?”

“Is it that obvious?” I tease, slipping into the game without missing a beat.

He smirks. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“I’ll try to be more discreet.” I hook my finger through his belt loop, tugging him closer. “FYI, I blew off the Tinder guy. It’s hard to compete with a man who cooks.”

He barks out a laugh, his eyes glinting. “Survival skills. Man can’t live on takeout and whiskey alone.” He kisses me softly. “Did you talk to your dad?”

My heart squeezes at his thoughtfulness. “Yes. He’s as ornery as ever. Thanks for asking.”

“Family comes first.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and says, “I kept you up half the night, your worries about your dad don’t rest, and you still manage to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in the morning.”

The words burrow into my chest. The urge to read too much into them is strong, but I know better. “I bet you say that to all your lady friends,” I say, reminding myself this is only a fling.

My nerves prickle as we carry our plates to the table and sit down. What if he thinks I’m fishing for more? I pick up a piece of toast, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

“Actually, I don’t,” he says with a serious lilt to his voice. He plucks the toast from my fingers and gives me a swift kiss. “Do you know how to swim?”

He asks it like he didn’t scramble my thoughts with his previous comment. “Yes, why?”

“I thought we’d go snorkeling this morning. Have you ever been?”

“No, but I’d like to. Unless you need to finish working on whatever you were busy with last night before dinner.”

“You don’t miss a thing, do you? I was just rereading some research for an expansion I’m considering. It’s not urgent. I want to show you the beauty that’s hiding beneath the sea.” He puts his hand on my leg, leaning closer. “But first I want to take you to meet one of my friends.”

The Jeep rattles over bumps and ruts in the dirt road, rumbling past a weathered wooden sign that reads Saint Aurelle Island Conservation Outpost. Scrub and brush press close on either side of the narrow road. Sea grapes twist up from the sand, their broad leaves flashing green and red in the sun. Beyond them, clusters of thatch palms and mangroves stand in the shallows, the water glinting between the trunks.

When the outpost comes into view, tucked into the untamed landscape, it feels less like a building dropped into the wild than an extension of it. The Jeep rolls to a stop in front of the building, and Seth cuts the engine. Before I can move, he’s out and circling around, tugging open my door, like he did last night.

The cracked vinyl seat pulls at the backs of my thighs as I step down. “It’s beautiful out here.”

“Reminds me of some of the places I grew up. Wait until you meet Missick. He’s an interesting guy, and my oldest friend,” Seth says.

Excitement bubbles up inside me at the prospect of meeting the man I’ve been passing along messages to for the past several years, and I blurt out, “Missick?” Immediately realizing my mistake, I try to cover my tracks. “What an interesting name.”

As if on cue, a tall, handsome dark-skinned man with short dreads steps out of the doorway. A smile spreads across his face, and his eyes light with the same welcoming warmth. Oh, how I wish I could truly introduce myself.

“Tought I heard that rancid ol’ Jeep.” Missick’s thick accent and melodic tone sail through the air as he comes off the porch.

Seth barks a laugh. “Get in here, you ugly bastard.” He pulls him into a long embrace. “How are you, man?”

“Better now. I figured Noah would be the next Braden to darken my door. Spoke with him ’bout some research a couple weeks ago. He’s a good man. I been tryin’ to get him here, but he’s as hard to nail down as you are.”

“Did you try bribing him with rum and fried conch?” Seth jokes.

“No, but I will next time.” Missick’s gaze flicks to me and brightens. “Who’s this? She looks like trouble to me.”