Page 16 of Diving In

Opening the door, a rush of warm air filled the car and took me from my thoughts. “There’s a reason why people come to this island and never leave. This place is special, there’s nowhere else like it,” he said with admiration in his voice as he jumped in behind the wheel.

“I can’t say I agree.” The sarcasm in my tone filled the space between us.

His hands visibly tightened around the steering wheel. “We can change that.”

“Ha, good luck.” I scoffed.

His eyes flashed in my direction as he reached for the ignition. “I’m a sucker for a good challenge, Georgia James. Don’t tempt me.”

There he went with the Georgia James again. Part of me wanted to correct him, but the other part wanted to listen to him say my name on repeat.

The Jeep rumbled awake as his hand turned the key, sending vibrations through my seat and I was immediately startled by country music barreling through the speakers.

“Luke Combs, huh? I like it,” I said.

He fumbled with the knob, turning it down. “You do?” he questioned as he raised an eyebrow in my direction.

“Did you forget who my brother was?”

We both laughed, because with how obsessed Fletch had been with country music, there was no way I couldn’t like it. It was country music or it was silence.

With a smile still on his face, he said, “Fletch did love country music, didn’t he?” His voice was obviously filled with memories. “He also made everyone else around him love country music too.”

“He did,” I said, moving to face straight ahead.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, giving us both time to remember Fletch, and I found comfort in that, knowing I wasn’t remembering him alone.

“Any plans while you’re here?” Cal asked.

“Not really. This trip was on more of a ‘need to’ basis, not a ‘want to.’ I don’t know what Jack so desperately needs tending to, but I plan to figure it out as quickly as possible and get myself back to New York City.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a big city girl now, aren’t you? I don’t understand what people like about that place. It’s crowded, the people were never taught manners, and most of the streets have an unpleasant smell to them,” he said, his face scrunched in repulsion.

“Wow. Please, tell us how you really feel.”

His hand casually removed the backwards hat he’d been wearing, tousling his hair before putting the hat back on.

“I’m sorry,” he said on a laugh. “I visited New York when I was younger, and I just remember thinking that I could never live there.”

I couldn’t really argue with that. The older I got, the less romantic New York City became to me. I used to dream about the day I would call New York City home, but now that I did, it just didn’t feel the way I imagined it would.

“You wouldn’t last one second in the city,” I huffed. The thought of this man in New York City was comical, but I also sort of liked that about him. From the little I knew about him, he was the complete opposite of any man I’d ever met there.

“You are correct, and I’m okay with that. I thrive in my small island town. No taxis, no rushing around, and absolutely no streets that smell like shit.” He grinned. “The ocean breeze is the only thing that floats through my nose around here.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, a laugh slipping through my lips.

“There it is. Only took me thirty minutes to get it out of you.”

Raised eyebrows and all, I glanced over at him in disbelief.

“What?” he asked. “I knew you might need a little laugh or two with everything going on. I was playing a game with myself to see if I could get one out of you before we got to Jack’s. Looks like I win.”

“You can’t win if I never knew I was playing,” I shot back, teasingly slapping his arm, using that as an excuse to touch him again.

His mouth turned up just slightly. “Told you I was always up for a challenge.”

Holy fuck.

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