Page 31 of Forgiving Her First Love

“So good—Oh, there she is.” Emma didn’t even pause to hug Sophie as she leapt off the boat and hurried past her.

Sophie wasn’t insulted. Her coveralls were filthy and the squeal from Storm behind her was irresistible enough that Sophie did turn then, watching Storm try to launch herself from Logan’s arms to get to Emma.

“Tag, you’re it,” Logan said as he left the wiggling baby in Emma’s arms. “I’ll get all the luggage, Delta. You can walk the kids up to the house and relax. Mom is there, putting out snacks. She has something for you guys, too.” He gave each child’s head a light pat.

Of course, she did, Sophie thought with affection. Glenda always had coloring books or bubble wands or something that won the hearts of children and kept them busy being kids.

“Thank you, Logan. Imogen, leave your life preserver—There we go.” Delta smiled her thanks as Sophie took the bright-orange vest from her. “Let’s go, moppets. A walk will help us find our land legs, won’t it?”

“Glenda is here?” Reid asked Logan as they gathered luggage, preparing to carry it up to the truck.

“Yeah. She moved into Sophie’s this afternoon and leaves tomorrow night. She’s got salads and everything ready to barbecue for dinner tonight.”

“Always the lifesaver,” Reid said. “Em will appreciate that. She’s done most of the cooking while we’ve been aboard. You’re coming for dinner, Soph?” Reid asked as he started past her.

“We’ll see. I just finished my second callout on my day off so it’s been like that.” She shrugged.

“It’s July.” He frowned. “Isn’t Randy finished school?”

“He had a family wedding back east. Not great timing, but the bride rudely didn’t ask me which dates would be convenient for her brother to attend.”

“Brides.” Reid shook his head with disgust.

“Right? It was actually your dad who told him he could go. It’s been planned since last year.”

“Hmph. Well, you don’t want to cook, do you? Come up.” Reid glanced at Logan, maybe looking for him to encourage her, too.

She was still refusing to look at Logan so she didn’t know what was on his face. Whatever it was made Reid’s mouth tighten.

“Try to make it if you can.” He followed Logan up the wharf to the truck.

Sophie stepped aboard the Storm Ridge and opened the hold labeled LIFE PRESERVERS.

“Thanks.” Trystan came down from the pilothouse with some dishes he took into the galley.

Trystan was arguably the most handsome of the Fraser boys.

Reid had the severely tailored, clean-shaven stockbroker vibe nailed down flat. He was not hard to look at, but he could be hard. He set impossible standards of perfection for himself and everyone around him, but that made him easy to trust as a leader.

Logan was more of a sexy playboy. His taste in clothing was less buttoned-down, but always very smart and flattering. His hair was a sun-streaked brush cut that was invariably tousled by the wind off the water and his weapon of choice was his disarming smile. He was the most like Wilf in that regard, not that she would ever say so to his face. She didn’t mind throwing out a few insults when appropriate, but she didn’t want to actually kill him.

Reid and Logan were a year apart, Trystan coming along three years later. He might have been significantly younger than his brothers, but he was a student of animal behavior. He had read the rec room as soon as Reid arrived in it. While Reid and Logan had begun jockeying for dominance, Trystan had walked his own path, one that took him away from the fray and everyone else. That’s how he’d become an online sensation with his wilderness survival series, by excelling at being alone.

He wouldn’t have become a star without his star power, though. He was definitely a looker with his shiny black hair and rugged build and his perma-tanned complexion. He also possessed that Hollywood “it” factor, an inexplicable, compelling presence that mesmerized. Whether he was in person or on screen, he made it seem as though he was talking directly to you. He could be covered in mosquito bites, or eating grubs, or boiling water he’d distilled from his own urine, and women would fill his comment section with offers to carry his baby.

Judging by his patience with his little sister, he would be an incredible father if he ever decided to go down that road.

If Sophie had wanted a Fraser boy, Trystan was the one she should have set her sights on. He had never once betrayed her. If she had had a dollar for every time her mother or anyone else had nudged her toward Trystan instead of Logan, she would have a nice mansion in LA because Trystan had made himself a very tidy fortune with his series and bought one. Then sold it recently, maybe to pour money into Raven’s Cove? It was hard to say because he didn’t say much, which was also part of his enigmatic charm.

She adored Trystan, but they had enjoyed too many fart jokes when they were six for her to see him as a romantic interest. He’d seen too many longing looks from her toward his brother to want to compete, either. He liked her. She would dare to say he loved her the way he loved his cousins and stepsiblings, but the one time they had kissed over spin the bottle, they had laughed themselves weak over how wrong it had felt.

They had landed on being very good friends. Often that was from a distance. Sophie didn’t resent that distance because she knew that’s what Trystan preferred. Her understanding of him made their friendship as strong as it was. For his part, he gave her his nonjudgmental support, no matter how rashly, or irrationally, she behaved.

He was the second person after her mom who she’d told she was pregnant.

What do you need? had been his response.

I need you to tell me I’ll be a good mom.

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