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“Yeah. Shitty luck.”
“The shittiest. You know what, I’m going to make Coop ditch him as best man. One of his other bro friends can fill in.”
“Please don’t. I told you, I got this. Honestly, focusing on how much I hate Riley is a good distraction from how much I hate Patrick.”
“That’s a lot of hate. I’d rather you focus on, I don’t know, working out your feelings in a more naked way with one of those other sea men.”
The realization hits me. Riley owns the marina. Which means he was just helping out on the ferry dock. Which means . . .
He isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.
He may be rich now, but he’s still the salt of the earth. Helpful. Thoughtful. Never too proud. While the guys I hooked up with in college were busy chasing banking jobs and doing coke, Riley Dixon was fixing boat engines and hauling luggage.
Still is. Only he owns the boats now, and probably has more money than the people whose luggage he’s hauling.
He’s also still an asshole. Stealing my restaurant idea? Trying to buy me a drink in said restaurant, like that might make me forget how badly he hurt me?
Seriously, fuck that guy for life.
Maybe the best revenge is playing it cool. Not making a fuss over him being around this week, because I couldn’t literally give less of a shit. I may have just broken off my engagement, but I still have a life I’m proud of: good job, good friends. I know how to have a good time, and I’m not going to let an ex-boyfriend from the distant past ruin it.
“You okay, Louise?”
I shake my head. “Yeah. Yes. Like I said, please don’t change any plans on my account. I’d tell you if I couldn’t handle it, but I really do think I can.”
Goldie searches my face for a long beat. “And you’ll tell me if that changes?”
“Absolutely.”
Another beat. “Okay.” She sighs. “But he’s really handsome, Louise. Like, really. And funny. And I thought he was sweet—”
“But he’s not. I promise, I’m able to keep my hands to myself.”
“He did burn you pretty badly.”
“He did. Bad enough I’ll never forget it, and I’ll definitely never forgive him.” I reach for the door. “So let’s hit up this tasting, shall we?”
“I did tell you he lives on a yacht, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Honey, my pleasures are small these days. Having someone else make me a cup of coffee is a thrill. I truly don’t care where Riley Dixon lives. As Shania Twain said—”
“‘That don’t impress me much.’” Goldie smiles. “Let’s do this. I’m so excited about the food.”
“Me too. I think my stomach’s finally settled, because I’m starving.”
We head to the parking lot, where Riley and Cooper are waiting. I’m surprised to see Riley climbing into a nondescript four-seater cart that looks like a newer, classier version of Winny.
He’s wearing a pair of gold-rimmed aviators. He turns his head to look at me, and the combination of it all—the sunglasses, the crisp white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up, the hard jawline and the way the ocean breeze blows the hair off his forehead—hits me in the backs of my knees.
Ignore.
I look away.
Coop helps Goldie into their cart. “Meet you guys at the marina?”
“Sounds good.” I climb into Winny, cursing the fact that I parked next to Riley without knowing it.
Cooper and Goldie take off, but Riley frowns as he fiddles with a portable speaker.
I turn Winny’s key, waiting for the salt-encrusted dials on the dash to spring to life.
Only, they don’t.
I feel a beat of panic. I try again. And again. Sweat breaks out along my scalp.
My hands shake. I need some food. And a nap. And a goddamn break.
“Can I help?” Riley asks. “Old Winny giving you grief, huh?”
Putting my hands on the wheel in an effort to steady them, I take a deep breath.
Of course he’d remember the cart’s name.
And of course he’d play the white knight.
“Looks like it.”
“Lemme take a look.”
My pulse jumps when Riley climbs out of his cart and heads for mine. “I feel like the battery’s dead or something. But she was plugged in this morning.”
Riley slides onto the seat beside me, making Winny roll forward. The clean, summery smell of Coppertone floods my senses. I press my thighs together.
“Hmm.” Riley’s brow is furrowed as he checks the key, the gear shift. The battery. “Yeah, I think you’re gonna need a tow.”
I scoff. “Of course I do.”
“Hey, Winny was old back then. It’s a miracle she’s still kicking.”
Back then. He says it so casually, like he’s not referring to the summer that destroyed me.
“She’s a legend,” I manage.
He grins as he digs his phone out of his pocket. “Just like her namesake, Wynonna Judd. We’ll get her fixed, Lu. I’ll have my guy check her out and bring her back to your house by dinner, no problem.”
