Page 5 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

I smile his way, not because of what he looks like, but because I can’t seem to help myself. I think maybe Becca smiles at him, too. But “sex in a tight T-shirt” isn’t impressed by her charm, and he sure isn’t captivated by mine. He scowls—as inscowls—which of course earns him a wink from me.

Hey, sticks and stones, or whatever, I’m going to get this guy to smile. Even if it’s clear he doesn’t want to smile at me.

Chapter Two

Callahan

I mutter something that’s supposed to be a curse when Jed nudges me.

“What’s up, Callahan?” he asks.

“Is this the way it’s going to be?” I reply, motioning to the group of lifeguards and locals chatting it up and arguing about which song’s next on the old jukebox.

Jed laughs. “Partner,” he tells me. “It’s only end of May. The season hasn’t even started. Things are going to heat up fast come the second week in June.”

“Christ,” I mumble.

When I pictured Kiawah, I pictured a real island. Something secluded and quiet, tucked away from the rest of existence. And when I first took over my uncle’s place it was. But that was March. Back then, feeling like I was—hell, likeI am—the sun rising and setting along the South Carolina shore was the only proof I had that the world continued to spin even though I no longer felt like I was part of it. Now, with temperatures rising and the increase in traffic along the back roads, Kiawah is anything but quiet, especially the moment this bunch walked in.

The young woman, with the long dark hair is especially loud. And perky. Lord, I hate perky. I know her type, pretending no war is going on while kids younger than her have their limbs blown clean off. She smiled when she walked in with her friend. What in the hell did she have to be so happy about?

I glance up in time to catch her rip a dollar out of an old man’s hand and wave it in front of him. The guy reaches for it, grinning as he tries to snatch it back. “Uh, uh, uh, Mr. Perrington,” she practically sings. “Fair is fair. One Cupid Shuffle in exchange for one Electric Slide.”

“You tell ‘em, Trin,” the lady next to him says.

The brunette shimmies, that’s right,shimmiesall the way to the jukebox even though the song is long over and nothing’s playing. She slides the dollar in, hits a few buttons, and the music starts. But that’s not enough, she motions everyone forward. And when I mean everyone, I mean every last person here.

Like a herd of sheep they follow. I wouldn’t follow her anywhere except to the door, and only then to lock it behind her.

The base of this crap song is heavy enough to rumble my shit kickers. It takes all I have not to mutter another swear. But seeing how even Jed has jumped into the horde of people hopping back and forth instead of mixing that prissy drink on the ticket, I curse anyway.

I make the drink and head to the rear storage room, taking longer than I need to rearrange the kegs closer to the door and haul back a case of Corona.

With my attention ahead and away from the dance floor, I return to the bar, lowering the case to the floor in front of the fridge. I don’t think I’m done shoving half of the beers in when I hear, “Excuse me. Excuse me, sir?”

I close my eyes and sigh, knowing who it is even before I straighten. I recognize her voice. This homecoming queen or whatever pep squad she leads is loud for a little thing.

I lean back on my heels and cross my arms, not bothering to smile. “Yeah?”

She grins, her large brown eyes blinking with something what, Lord help me, resembles excitement. “I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s Trinity, Trinity Summers.”

Of course it is.

She waits, still smiling, I suppose for me to shake her hand or something. When I don’t, her smile fades a little and she glances over her shoulder to where her friend, the tall blonde is sitting. Her friend taps on her ear and quickly turns away.

I don’t know if it’s some secret girl code she’s doing with the blonde until she yells, “I said I don’t think we’ve met. My name is Trinity. TRI-NI-TY SU-MMERS. You know, like the season?”

Right now, I can do little more than blink, wondering if there’s some kind of hidden camera trained on my face and what the hell she snorted before she walked in here. No one is this high-strung sober. No one.

She leans into the bar, keeping her smile. “And you are?”

Someone not named after a porn star, that’s for damn sure.

It wasn’t too long ago that the same “please die” look I’m pegging her with would have sent dangerous men running. Instead this woman here giggles.Giggles.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me your name, I’ll have to give you one.” She twirls her dark hair, so thick it looks like a wet towel slapped on her head. She sits up and beams even more, if that’s even humanly possible. “I know. How about Spanky?”

How about you skip along the beach with a band of puppies and leave me the fuck alone?

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