Page 61 of Just This Once

As she sat across from me, the mood slowly lifted as a sense of casual comfort settled over us and we listened to the waves roll in. We laughed over bites of Mimolette and pear, and it wasthen that one hard truth dawned on me and filled my gut with dread.

Emily Ward was bruising heartache wrapped in a tidy, stubborn little package. There wasn’t a world in which I would ever be good enough to deserve her, but for the first time in my life, the prospect of being left behind was unbearable.

TWENTY-TWO

EMILY

“I’ve got to find it,”Whip grumbled as he frantically searched the cab of his truck. His hand raked through his hair, causing it to stick up in places.

I stood back, enjoying the view. Whip’s white T-shirt was snug across his chest, and I appreciated the fit of his jeans as I stared at his muscular ass while he tore through the glove box, checked under the seats, and dug into the center console. After our boat ride and picnic, we had erased all evidence of us being on the beach, and Whip had rowed us back toward Trawler’s Cove.

Despite my offer to help, Whip insisted on hauling the canoe up the rocky ledge himself before securing the dripping boat on top of his truck. When we got there, a small note was tucked under one windshield wiper.

Good luck finding it.

Clearly a prank from one of the Sullivans, Whip was convinced they’d somehow messed with his truck. After minutesof finding nothing, a realization dawned on me. “How do you know they actually messed with anything?”

He slowly turned to me.

I nodded as the thought fully formed. “What better way to fuck with someone than to make themthinkthey did something to your truck, but really did nothing at all. It would eat at you. Drive you mad.” I shrugged. “It’s what I would do.”

Whip stood tall and slammed the door to his truck. “Son of a bitch.”

I held up a hand. “I mean—don’t get me wrong—I’d still keep an eye or a nose out for something weird, but I’m betting it’s a mind game.”

A muscle in his jaw worked. “Psychological warfare.”

I barked out a laugh. “I mean, maybe less dramatic than that, but sure.”

More relaxed, Whip leaned against the door of his truck and peered down the quiet roadway. “Did you park nearby?”

I shook my head. “My apartment is only a few blocks away. I walked.”

He hummed and glanced down the street before settling his attention on his feet. “I could drive you home or...” His eyes found mine. “We could go back to my place.”

Heat bloomed in my core, and I stifled a smile. “I’d like that.”

Whip hurried around to the passenger side, opening my door as I climbed into his truck. My hair was tangled from the lake breeze, and anticipation buzzed beneath my skin. I leaned against the window as his truck bumped along the road.

It was getting late, but Outtatowner still hummed with the flutter of coastal life. Tourist season was in full swing, and the sidewalks were still bustling. I could see King Tattoo was buzzing with life and wondered if that was where Whip had gotten all his tattoos. Mentally, I made plans to trace each line with mytongue. I smiled as we passed the general store, recalling the night Whip and I met.

As the truck rolled to a stoplight, Whip stilled and mumbled, “Fuck.”

I straightened, looking around to see what he was looking at.

Just ahead at the crosswalk, my mother’s hand was tucked affectionately into the nook of my stepdad’s arm.

My eyes went wide as I panicked. “What do we do?”

He lifted an arm, taking the center console with him, opening the bench seat between us. “Get down.”

Without hesitation, I swiveled and pressed my torso to the center seat. My face was practically in his lap, and my heart thundered. After what felt like an eternity, the light changed, and Whip’s truck rolled forward. As he drove through the intersection, I watched in horror as his arm lifted in a silent salute.

“Did they see you?” I hissed.

“Oh yeah,” he gritted through a smile. “Definitely spotted.”

“Shit. Do you think they sawme?”

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