Page 34 of Ruthless Love

Margot grabs her own jacket from the car, holding it up so Evie can slip her arms into the sleeves. There’s a closeness between them that’s unmistakable. Much like with me and Coop.

Evie gives me a subtle nod, and I open the passenger door before heading to the driver’s side of our convertible. An ear-piercing whistle fills the air, and I’m blown away that it’s coming from Evie’s pouty little lips. Dogs throughout Southern California could probably hear it.

“Not so fast, hotshot.”

My eyes widen as I return her smirk.She counters my amusement with a surprising demand.

“I’m driving,” she says, thumbing at herself as if I have no idea what she meant.

Why not? It’s a rental. Having a little fun, I lob the keys over my shoulder, snag them behind my back, then wind up fast before slowing to a soft underhand toss.

Every once in a while, I catch her juggling balls of dough as she prepares for a bake. Granted, her juggling is pretty bad, and I’ve watched one too many balls of dough become victims of the three-second rule, so I toss her a soft one.

When the vintage set of keys lands in Evie’s delicate hands, Margot’s gasp is noticeable. I’m not sure why anyone thought Evie wouldn’t catch it. I practically threw it in her hands. As long as she cupped her hands and stood still, that slo-mo pass was solid.

“Don’t be so surprised,” Evie says, having also heard Margot’s audible relief. “I may not exactly be a pro athlete, but if I can juggle more balls working for the Longs than a circus performer, I can certainly catch a little set of keys.”

“That’s you, Evie. Ball-handler extraordinaire,” Margot says before giving Evie a light hug, taking a second to whisper something in Evie’s ear that apparently earns her a light peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, Mom,” Evie says with an adorable eye roll before making herself comfortable behind the wheel.

I slide on a ball cap and sunglasses and put on a poker face because I’m pretty sure she can’t drive a standard. Evie grinds the car into gear, and I wince through my internal struggle to keep from taking control.

It’s just a rental, I repeat over and over in my head, like a mantra that will make her driving better with time.

Chapter Eighteen

EVIE

Grateful but hot, I unbutton the denim jacket Margot gave me, glad to have a breast pocket with a button to slip my ring into. The damn thing is so loose, the heavy diamond’s bound to be a casualty of sailing as I work the ropes. Though having it fly off my finger and lost forever like a Titanic treasure has just become my next favorite fantasy.

And Margot’s heavy jacket really isn’t necessary. The day is warm and bright, and I’m getting more of a workout than I have in a while.

I do my best to keep up with Austin, who isn’t holding back. He’s running me through so many tasks after we cast off, his passion is contagious. With all the quick moves and strength needed to maneuver the boat as it speeds out to sea, the bulk of the denim coverup gets in my way. Mindful of Margot’s loaner, I carefully set it aside.

With the spray of the ocean at every turn, and the warmth of the California sun on my face, there’s no denying it. I’m spoiled for life, and even more so as Austin promptly refills my champagne for the fourth time. If he keeps this up, I’ll have to pee, and I have no idea where the bathroom is on this thing. But hell, another glass of champagne in, and I’m not above plopping my ass off the starboard bow and peeing like nature intended.

“This is amazing,” I say loudly, shouting to compensate for the gusts of wind and crashing of waves against the bow. Or because all this champagne makes me loud.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.”

“I think I’m addicted,” I say as Austin secures a final stretch of rope.

“Well, it’s easy to do with a boat this size.”

“You’re an amazing teacher. Seems like you’d be more Navy than Army with this skill set.”

“So, you know I was Army. Now who’s stalking much?”

“Excuse me?” I wave an accusatory finger right in his face. “Who’s got a go army, beat navy sticker on his motorcycle helmet? Sure, it’s small, but I did see it. I’m half surprised I didn’t see PROPERTY OF USARMY tattooed on that springboard of an ass of yours.”

His lip curls into the sexiest half smile I’ve ever seen. “It’s tattooed somewhere else.”

As we laugh, his smile fills me with something. Something stupid. Like, imagining an alternate universe where a guy like Austin sweeps me off my feet as we sail into the sunset. Another sip of champagne, and I realize we are sailing off into the sunset. Just him and me.

Thoughts of Dimitri intrude on this fantasy, and for a million reasons I can’t vocalize, I’m itching to do something daring. Impulsive. And shed about two ounces of flawless cushion-cut brilliance that’s been dragging me down for months.

“Evie?” Austin stares at me with questioning eyes and a curious grin. “Are you okay?”

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