Page 66 of What Remains of Grace

Jenna raised hers in return. “To the best crew in Pinellas County. Let’s just hope the check clears.”

Casey and Emmie were already halfway out of their seats, pointing toward the giant fiberglass shark at the entrance.

“Oh my gosh, we have to take a picture in the shark mouth,” Casey said, practically vibrating.

Emmie snorted. “Absolutely. That thing is peak Tarpon Springs culture.”

The deck was buzzing with laughter from the next table, umbrellas flapping in the marina breeze, and the sunset bleeding orange across the water. Boats bobbed gently against their lines, their hulls catching the last of the light.

Jenna waved them off. “Go on, just don’t break anything that belongs to the city.”

As the girls darted toward the shark, Travis leaned back in his chair. “Those two could outrun the Coast Guard if they had to.”

Cole snorted. “They’d outrun you without trying.”

“Rude,” Travis said, grabbing a fry, “accurate, but rude.”

Jenna elbowed Cole lightly. “Be nice. You’re all limbs and work boots; they’d leave you in the dust, too.”

Cole just shrugged, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a way that made her chest go warm.

The music shifted to something with a sway, and lanterns flickered as the wind swept up from the water. Jenna felt warm, content in a way she hadn’t expected to feel again.

She caught Cole watching her more than once, but every time she turned toward him, he looked away, shoulders loosening like he’d been caught doing something dangerous.

Eventually, the crew drifted out in ones and twos, waving and calling goodbyes as they crossed the lot. The crowd thinned until only Travis remained, pretending to straighten chairs while very obviously eavesdropping.

Emmie hugged Jenna tight, then leaned in to whisper, “Don’t be weird.” She shot Cole a knowing glance and jogged to Casey’s car with a dramatic little spin.

For the first time all night, the noise calmed, stretching into something that made Jenna’s pulse stutter.

She leaned back in her chair, nudging Cole’s boot with her sandal.

“So,” she said lightly, “your next client, are they going to appreciate you as much as we do?”

Cole smirked. “Depends. You all feed us like we’re half-starved.”

“That’s because you act half-starved,” she shot back. “I’ve seen how you inhale tacos.”

He raised a brow. “And yet you still agreed to be seen with me in public. Interesting choice.”

“Oh, I enjoy the challenge,” she teased. “But seriously, you think this next homeowner is going to be as cute as me in a swimsuit?”

Cole choked on his drink.

Travis, who had absolutely been listening, held up his hands. “I, nope, not getting involved,” he muttered, backing away like a man evacuating a blast radius.

He disappeared toward the parking lot. Leaving her and Cole alone.

Finally.

Jenna grinned, pleased with herself. “What? Simple question.”

Cole dragged a hand over his jaw, fighting a smile he absolutely did not win against. “It’s a seventy-six-year-old man,” he said finally. “So . . . probably not.”

“Probably?” she echoed.

He shrugged, “Haven’t met him yet.”