Page 58 of Austen

“Too early to tell,” she said.“But I think I’m over the three-hour tour.”

The what?

“Gilligan’s Island?”

Right.“Who am I?”

“The professor.”

“And you?”

“Mary Ann.”

He laughed, and it released the knot in his chest.“You sure you’re not Ginger?”

“Yes.And I’m diving overboard if you suggest I’m Mrs.Howell.”

He turned the boat around, searching for Phoenix’s Jet Ski.“The professor, huh?”

“You always have everything figured out.”

He gave out a sound that held nothing of agreement.“I wish.”

“Really?”

“Trust me.I spend most of my time trying to stay one step ahead of my mistakes.There they are.”He pointed to a white hull just outside the light of the yacht.Flicking on his light, he let it shine for a moment, then turned it off.

In the flash, he spotted Steinbeck seated behind Phoenix, the two of them slicing through the water.

As if they belonged together.Interesting.

Phoenix pulled up, and Steinbeck climbed onto the boat.Then he threw her a line.“C’mon!”

But she just looked at him.

A beat.Two.

“Phoenix—”

She gunned it, jetting into the darkness.

What—what?

“Phoenix!”

Steinbeck stood there, his expression unreadable as he watched her disappear.

“Where is she going?”Austen said.

Steinbeck shook his head.“I didn’t see this ending like that.”

Declan either.But he was tired of being blindsided.And betrayed.“Let’s find out,” he said.

And took off after her.

* * *

All she wanted was her boat.And maybe a warm bed.

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