Page 54 of Love Without Control

“One time Amara and I were helping Mama make muffins. She helped us mix up the batter and then got a phone call. She told us to spray the muffin tins with cooking spray while she went in the other room. We didn’t know how much spray to use, so we looked at the recipe. It said to fill the muffin tins two-thirds full. Of course, it meant with batter, but we didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t!” I scoffed, looking up to see Dane’s face creased in amusement.

“Oh yes, we did. We sprayed a shit-ton of it into each opening. When Mama came back, we told her we ran out.” He jiggled one hand, as if shaking an empty can. “She laughed so hard she had to sit down.”

“That’s hilarious. I hope your baking skills have improved since then.”

His chin lifted. “I’m an excellent baker. Mama always said I should open my own bakery one day, but…” Dane’s words trailed off as he inhaled a lungful of salty air. “Family business and all that, you know?”

I nodded my understanding. “Of course Dad wants Auburn, Monty, and I to all work forBouvier, but he would never insist on it. He’s always said we’re welcome into the family business, but he also wants us to be happy.”

“Family happiness is not a priority for my father,” he said wryly. “Do you think all three of you will work forBouvier?”

“For sure. Auburn is slated to take over as CEO when our father retires, and Monty plans to go to college and then become a designer for theBouvierbrand. Since I’m a people person, I’m going into marketing and advertising.”

“Does it bother you that you weren’t considered for CEO?” Dane asked.

“Nah, not a bit,” I told him with complete honesty. “Neither Monty nor I have any desire to run the entire company. That’s all in Auburn’s wheelhouse, and we’re happy to let him have it. He’s kind of a bossy butt.”

I stopped and squatted, inspecting a scrape in the sand just beyond the edge of the surf.

“What is it?” Dane asked.

“I was looking for turtle tracks. Loggerheads start nesting on the Florida beaches in April, which isn’t too far off. That’s not one though.”

“You like turtles?”

“They’re my favorite animal,” I admitted. “I know they’re not very exciting because they’re slow, but that’s what I like about them. They take their time. Turtles have this hard outer shell, but they’re softer on the inside.”

Kind of like you, I almost said but stopped myself.

“Guess I never thought of it like that.”

“Loggerheads don’t reach sexual maturity until about age thirty-five.” I told him as we continued walking. “They spend the majority of their time in the water, but females lay their eggs on land. Their nests contain an average of one hundred eggs.”

An Asian woman in a lime-green tank top and black running shorts was bent over stretching but stood when we walked by. “Are you talking about loggerheads?”

I turned to face her. “Um, yes.”

She swiped a wrist over her sweaty forehead. “You’re very knowledgeable.”

Dane released my hand and looped an arm around my shoulders, tucking me protectively against his side. “Can we help you with something?” he asked, and I could hear the wary tone in his voice.

Apparently, the woman could too because she held up both hands, palms out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but overhear. I have turtle radar.”

She wiggled her fingers beside one ear, and I laughed, holding out a hand for a shake. “Nice to meet a fellow Testudines enthusiast. I’m Eden.”

“Dane,” he said, also shaking the woman’s hand.

“I’m Anna Hsiao. I work for the Florida Department of Environmental Protection. Are you two surveyors?”

My brow creased. “I don’t know what that is.”

“As you probably know,” she said with a wink, “loggerheads nest primarily at night. Our surveyors walk the beaches early in the morning, looking for nesting sites. If they find one, they notify us.”

“Then what happens?” Dane asked.

“Then we’re able to limit activity in that particular area. Pesky humans can disturb nesting sites, so the F.D.E.P. does our best to protect them.” Anna rolled her eyes like she wasn’t also a human. At least not a pesky one.

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