Page 95 of Changing Tides

I thought Amiya coming back to town for the holiday weekend would make staying away from Avie and being on task easier.

Sucker.

As we approach the Thirty-Second Street access, we see a frantic Avie waving us toward the right, where Amiya stands beside a white golf cart lying on its side in a ditch.

“How the hell did they do that?” Anson asks as I turn on my flashers and pull up to the scene of the crime.

Avie runs over to my window. “It wasn’t my fault. Amiya was flashing some drunk guys standing on the deck of their beach house, and I was trying to get her to sit down before anyone saw us, and while I was distracted, we hit some standing water, hydroplaned, and lost control. I didn’t know who else to call. I didn’t want your grandparents to see it,” she explains without taking a breath.

“Flashing,” Anson repeats.

“I wasn’t flashing them. I was mooning them,” Amiya corrects.

He barks out a laugh.

I shake my head and exit the Bronco to get a closer look.

“Bandits. You two are nothing but trouble,” I whisper to her as I pass.

She follows, nervously chewing her lip as I walk around the cart.

“Welp, it’s totaled,” I say as I throw my hands in the air.

“Totaled?” Avie gasps.

“He’s lying. If I had a little more upper-body strength, I’d roll it back over myself,” Amiya bellows.

Avie’s eyes narrow at me.

I laugh.

“You flipped my grandparents’ golf cart.”

“Ugh, I know,” she whines.

I wave Anson out to help me get the machine out of the ditch.

The damn thing weighs more than you’d imagine, and it takes the two of us a few tries to get it back up on four tires.

Avie hurries around the side to check for damage. The worst of which is a dent over the passenger-side wheel well.

“Park can pull that out,” I assure her.

I feel her breath at my ear as she throws her arms around me. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome. And don’t worry; I won’t tattletale. But it’ll cost you.”

She peeks up at me. Her eyes are dancing with amusement, and the corner of her mouth is curled into a sexy grin. “How ever will I pay you?”

I back her up against the golf cart. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

“Get a room!” Amiya shouts.

Instead of heading back to the cottage, Anson talks the girls into coming back to my house for a beer.

Just the distraction we need right now.

Not that I’m complaining.

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