Page 89 of One Bossy Disaster

“You don’t believe her?” I ask slowly.

Destiny lifts a shoulder in a shrug.

“Eh, she doesn’t strike me as the type who goes around belting out the truth for its own sake.”

“She’s not,” I snarl. “I made a mistake with her—and not the type she implies.”

“Yeah, I figured. And I sure wouldn’t be here if I believed her at all, camping with you on a remote beach.” Her lips twist in a humorless smile. “The stuff she’s saying about you... Jeez, if I thought it was true, I wouldn’t come near you without an armed chaperone.”

“If the bullshit she’s claiming was true, I’d deserve hell. I’d be the first to admit it and face whatever damages a court deems necessary.”

“You’d deserve something, all right.” Her face relaxes, slipping into the first genuine smile I’ve seen since the not-kiss. “You shouldn’t have trusted her.”

“Now you tell me.” I roll my eyes.

“Well, just for next time. In case you decide to get mixed up with somebody like her again...”

“Is that a warning?”

“Warning?” She tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder and grins at me. “Oh, no. I said I’m game for helping restore your reputation. Hey, if all we do is find these otters tomorrow, I’ll sing your praises for the next three months every day on socials. Everyone will think Shepherd Foster is the patron saint of cute marine animals.”

Dammit.

A rough chuckle slips out of me.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, convincing anyone,” I mutter.

Logically, I know I should be relieved she understands this PR scheme and isn’t bothered by it.

Also, if she can read me this easily, it means she’ll be able to keep this as professional and impersonal as I need.

Even so, irritation grips my chest, knowing she’s figured this whole thing out so easily.

Vanessa always tried to look deeper, too, hoping to unearth some dark secret or weakness she could exploit to win me over.

Look what happened there.

I fold my arms. “You really don’t believe Dumas?”

“Like I said, it doesn’t add up.” Destiny shrugs, taking her seat again on the sand, closer to the fire.

“How can you be so sure I’m not the heart-wrecking scoundrel she’s made me out to be?”

Destiny shrugs again and gives me a long look, starting at my chest and winding up to my face.

The firelight flickers in her eyes, teasing the green flecks from the blue pools. They’re practically luminous in the dark like this, vibrant fireflies that seem to see my soul.

She sees too deep inside me, and I don’t know what to do with that.

“Call it a hunch. A sixth sense. Whatever,” she says.

“You see dead people who aren’t assholes?” I say, referencing that silly movie. “Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Destiny, but I’m very much alive.”

“Oh, okay. You’re not as intimidating as you want to be, mister, for the record. You billionaires are all the same. Tons of loud bark and no bite. Totally harmless.”

The way she rolls her eyes tells me she’s joking, but something about hearing that strikes deep.

Anger, frustration, all the shit I shouldn’t feel erupts in my blood.

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