Page 8 of Seas the Dating Coach

“Right.” He shakes his head. “I still need to get used to that.”

I hoist the tote bag higher on my shoulder, an unfamiliar flush of confidence saturating my skin. “I’ve decided to take you up on your offer. Tonight, you can teach me how not to freeze in front of Atticus, and I’ll give you a crash course in Wilks Beach history. I’ll come over at sunset.”

Before I can second-guess my brashness, I stride toward the exit. Remembering the books in my bag, I place two of my favorite Regency romances prominently on the central display. The theme isHot Summer Reads, so these will fit right in. I give Patricia a quick wave goodbye as I pass the circulation desk. The desire to look back at Finn is a tangible thing, but I channel my inner-Brynn and march straight into the early evening sunlight.

We’ll see each other soon enough.

four

Vivian

I’ve been body snatched.

That’s the only reasonable explanation for my erratic behavior this evening. It’s why I lied to my sister about going for a swim, walking past Dotty’s market and the library before meandering down the beach. Then, like a madwoman—or a poorly trained spy—I buried my face beneath a hoodie, cut between houses, and dashed across the two-lane road that runs the length of Wilks Beach before trespassing through three bayside yards, ending at the dock behind Finn’s.

Sweat drips down my temples as I strip off the hoodie and use the sleeves to mop my face. Our summer season doesn’t officially start until Memorial Day, next Monday, but it’s been unseasonably warm in the mid-eighties with high humidity. The instinct to jump into Back Bay is nearly as strong as the impulse to hustle home instead of marching up the grassy backyardtoward Finn’s rental house. I’m wearing my swimsuit beneath my shorts and graphic tee to corroborate the lie I sold Brynn, making the bay’s siren song even harder to resist.

Turning my back to the seductive, glistening water, I study the asymmetrical roof of the quaint one-and-a-half-story house. Its yellow siding could use some work, but it looks like Rebecca, our resident realtor and rental property manager, has recently repainted the expansive deck leading to where I’m standing. A mature magnolia presides over the north side of the home, its sturdy branches brushing the exterior and obscuring the second-story window.

My sandals feel stuck to the thick centipede grass, but if I don’t move toward the house, someone will see me. I’ve probably already been spotted. I hadn’t thought about how easy it is to be witnessed, because I’d never had to hide before. I waved hello to no less than seven locals on the beach before ducking behind a seaside home’s outdoor shower stall to pull the hoodie out of my tote.

A maniacal laugh bubbles from my throat, thinking of this whole escapade.

Clearly, I’m not cut out for covert operations, because I’m losing it. It’s just…the idea of people’s heads exploding over me—reserved, quiet Vivian—creeping toward the house of the dreaded new librarian for a secret rendezvous isoddlysatisfying. Unlike my sister, I never snuck out of the house as a teen or gave anyone a reason to worry.

Fortified by my small act of defiance, I march up the deck, pushing the hoodie into my whale-printed canvas tote. The sleeve of the sweater drapes down, covering the waving flipper of the cartoon humpback and his“Whale hello there!”speech bubble.

You’ve got thissails from my lips in rhythmic repeats as I raise my hand to knock on the sliding glass door leading to thebackyard. With my shadow cast on the glass, I can finally see through it instead of the reflection of the rose-gold glimmers of the setting sun behind me.

My eyes widen as my movement halts. Actually, halt isn’t a strong enough word. I freeze. A full and complete whole-body paralysis. Even my cells cease wiggling, my blood screeching to a stop in my veins.

Finn—completely oblivious to my presence—looks up and does the same thing. And thank goodness, because prior to seeing me, his hands were unbuckling the black leather belt on his slacks. It’s bad enough that his vest and shirt are already unbuttoned, showing a distracting sliver of tanned skin.

I know I’m in the wrong here. Okay? Finn is halfway through the single-story, open-concept living room, on the way to the stairs where his bedroom must be. He probably expected me to knock at the front door like a sane person, not surprise him through a pane ofimpeccably transparentglass. Not a streak mars the slick surface, not a single smudged fingerprint.

Finn blinks a handful of times before my stomach flips at the slight quirk of his lips. My brain screams at me to do something—close my eyes, turn my head.Something.But a devious flick in the back of my skull keeps my gaze locked on Finn’s. I expect him to saunter over to me and prove he’s the shameless flirt he’d hinted at at the library. Maybe puff out his chest and slide his hands into his pockets to accentuate the alluring gap in fabric.

When Finn slowly pulls on the buckle, the belt beginning to slip from its loops, I flip and crouch like I’m at the air show and an F/A-18 Hornet just shocked me with a low-altitude fly by. All those frozen body parts jump into action—blood rushing in my ears, heart scaling my windpipe, lungs working double-time.

My eyes are still squeezed shut when I hear the sliding door unlock behind me.

“Calm down, gorgeous. It’s just a belt,” Finn calls from the other side of the glass.

When I make absolutely no movement, he says through a laugh, “Count to ten then come in. I’m going to get changed.”

I count to twenty—okay, forty—and then I take a series of deep breaths. By the time I let myself into Finn’s rental, he’s busying himself in the kitchen, wearing black exercise shorts and a snug, dark-gray t-shirt, running shoes on his feet. Varied powders enter a mixing cup before he begins shaking them with water.

“I’ve got an hour before—”

“Don’t do that again,” I blurt.

Fighting the urge to wrap both hands around the straps of my tote to steady them, I set them on my hips. Brynn once told me as kids that standing in a Superman pose before undertaking difficult tasks helps one to feel more confident.

“Do what?” He cocks a single eyebrow.

“You’re not going to play games with me. I don’t want to be at the receiving end of whatever you think women are interested in. This is a business arrangement. Don’t forget that you need me a lot more than I need you.”

I wish Brynn were here right now. I’ve never spoken toanyonethis way, and I desperately want my sister to not only witness it but to give me a congratulatory high five. My skin is buzzing like it’s lit within from thousands of sparklers.

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