Page 29 of Me and Mr. Just Right

So many people put on a show around her, never revealing their true selves. It was rare that people interacted with her without knowing who she was, and gave her an unfiltered, unmoderated look at who they were.

They’d hardly spoken more than a couple of words since everyone had woken up. It turned out that Haydn was not a morning person—evidenced by his wildly sleep-mussed hair and adorably grumpy frown until he ate his breakfast—which his brothers teased him endlessly over.

But he had shared a sleepy smile with her that made her insides soar as if harnessed to an aerial lift, and then he’d tossed her a pair of his joggers before heading to the shower, which her bedroom shared a wall with. Well, Haydn’s just-right bedroom that she was sleeping in. The shower water had turned on, which she didn’t think about for one second. No sir. Instead, she’d played her guitar—and okay, fine, most of the lyrics were terribly pedestrian about brown eyes and long, finger-runnable hair and sideways smiles.

Speaking of sideways smiles …

Haydn had spotted her watching him, and his distracted expression slid straight into a grin she felt all the way to the tips of her fingers. Fingers that very much wanted to press against that chest again. Or run through his dark, silky hair that had been washed and pulled back into a short knot at his nape.

“Well, I won’t be featured on any magazine covers wearing these, but they should do the trick.” She twirled as if she stood at the end of a runway in a designer gown. She caught the appreciative gleam in his eye as he chuckled.

“That’s Alaska chic,” he informed her.

“All you need is a black hoodie,” Bennett said as he walked out of his room, slinging an empty duffel over his shoulder.

“And a worn-out cap,” Jules said. He’d put on a pair of khaki pants that weren’t creased, and his flannel, collared shirt was unbuttoned over a plain gray T-shirt. So hecouldrelax a little.

“I’ve got my bucket hat,” she said, pulling it from her day pack and stuffing it on her head.

Jules frowned while Bennett smiled. She hadn’t actually been planning on wearing it, but she couldn’t resist the double benefit of frustrating Jules while making Bennett happy. She’d only known these brothers for a couple of days, and already she wondered how Rosie juggled all their strong personalities.

Probably by doing whatever she wanted … like putting their cabin up on a vacation rental site as a side hustle.

Today, they were going to explore some tide pools. An adventure that Lia was almost embarrassingly excited for. Lia hadn’t had a vacation plan when she’d booked this trip to Alaska—her sole goal being to escape Nashville. If pressed, she might say that she planned to play her guitar—because why else would she have brought it?—and sleep as much as humanly possible. But the Forrester brothers were active and enthusiastic and knowledgeable about what the island had to offer—and, okay, they were hot too, but it wasn’tjustthat—and suddenly, sleeping as much as humanly possible didn’t seem nearly as appealing as it had a couple days ago.

Plus, the brothers were funny. She could watch them interact with each other all day long. Well, to be fair, she could watch Haydn do pretty muchanythingall day long.

“Try these boots on,” Haydn told her. He held out a pair of brown rubber boots that would go nearly to her knee. “They’re Rosie’s.”

She pulled them on over the thick pair of socks she’d found in Haydn’s dresser, and they fit perfectly. She folded down the sides like Rosie had, to find these ones lined with silky material patterned with bright turquoise and yellow swirls.

She layered a sweater under her waterproof jacket this time, and re-fitted her lime-green “Forrester Expedition” bucket hat over her braids. By the time she met the brothers outside, the late-morning sun was already peeking through the clouds, offering pockets of warmth and light. A misty rain fell, something she was realizing was a staple on this island.

Haydn walked on one side of Lia, and Bennett on the other, while Jules led the three of them through the woods, like the Peter Pan to their Lost Boys, and then at a sharp angle toward the beach. She breathed in the fresh scent that she could only describe as green and leafy and would always associate with this island. A crackling sound filled the air around them, like air bubbles releasing from underwater.

“These are where the best tide pools are,” Bennett informed her. He’d filled the duffel bag with snacks, and it crinkled as he positioned it from one shoulder to the other. “Over by the house isn’t as good.”

“Plus it’s a longer walk,” Jules chimed in over his shoulder, “so Haydn’s blood gets pumping enough for him to be his bright, sunshiny self once again.”

Haydn scowled.

“Longer!” Bennett shouted, holding his arm up as if he were holding a staff and waging a battle cry.

Lia giggled, and Haydn bumped his shoulder into hers. She looked up to find him leaning close, and he whispered, “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Very much,” she whispered back.

His voice got a little louder. “It’s not the mornings that make me grumpy. It’s my annoying brothers.”

“Hey!” Bennett said. “I made you scrambled eggs this morning.”

“That were burned,” Haydn pointed out.

“It’s not my fault the book I was reading got so good that I forgot I was cooking.”

“Whose fault is it, then?” Jules asked.

“The author’s.” Bennett shook his head dramatically. “They don’t care if a meal gets ruined because I’m too invested in the story to know what’s going on around me. It really is a shame.”

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