Page 136 of The Otherworld

“Like test-driving that boat, which has been, let’s see…” Dad turns his wrist, glancing at his watch. “A two-hour test drive, now. If he thinks he’s getting paid for that—”

“Two hours? You think something’s wrong?”

“Nah, he had Orca with him,” Dad says, setting the carb aside to examine the oil pressure gauge I just delivered. “They were going up to the cove…” He gives me a sidelong look. “So you know what that means.”

I sure as hell do. The cove doesn’t even need a name; it’s just “the cove” to locals. The cove where I taught Jack to swim. The cove where he first got drunk with his high school friends, and I had to drive him home at two in the morning, pulling over intermittently to let him puke on the side of the road. The cove where he’s taken other girls to “go swimming,” which is a code that loosely translates to making out with as few clothes on as possible.

Is that what he’s trying to do with Orca?

“Go see if they’re back,” Dad murmurs, turning the gauge over in his hands. “You know how distracted he gets.”

“Yeah. I’ll check. Which dock?”

“C-four.”

“Got it.” I head for the door.

Dad calls over his shoulder, “Remind him that he’s here to work!”

I laugh and say, “Will do,” but I know as well as Dad does: it’s pointless. Jack has never understood the concept of work—he’s here out of obligation, the same reason he does anything remotely difficult.

Outside, the sun is blazing bright. As I follow the signs down to dock C, I spot the boat right away, tied up where it should be. I stride down the dock, preparing a fatherly tongue-lashing for my carefree, careless little brother.

I’m about to yell an accusatory, “You’re late!” But I stop short when I see him.

When I see them—in each other’s arms.

Orca has her hands on Jack’s bare chest, and she’s wearing a skimpy red bikini, and that alone makes my brain stall, like, Holy crap, she’s practically naked. My gaze shoots down the length of her body, taking in her startlingly bare skin and lighting up an unwelcome blaze of desire inside me.

Jack is about to kiss her—I can tell by the way he slides his hands up her waist, tilting his head and leaning in for her lips. The expression on Orca’s face is hesitant, halting, like she wants to step away but can’t move.

Jealousy sinks its fangs into my heart. Just like that, I feel possessed—controlled by something primal and irrational. It’s beyond reason; it knows no logic, only two words: She’s mine.

“Jack!” My voice comes out razor-sharp.

The two of them fly apart, whirling around to stare at me. Orca gasps, one hand covering her mouth, while Jack glares at me. “Adam? What the hell are you doing here?”

What the hell are you doing with your hands all over my—

I suck back my rage, reeling in a deep breath.

“I had to drop something off for Dad,” I explain, keeping my voice steady. “He was wondering if you got lost.”

Jack rolls his eyes, but I can’t tell who he’s more annoyed at: Dad or me. “No, we didn’t get lost.”

My gaze slides back to Orca. Her cheeks are almost as red as her swimsuit.

“What does Dad want?” Jack grumbles, putting his T-shirt back on. “I was just about to go find him.”

Oh, I’m sure you were.

“He’s in the storage,” I say, not answering his question because he can do that himself. I step forward to help Orca off the boat before Jack can, that primal urge taking over. I offer her my hand, and she gives me a little smile as she slides her smooth, cool palm into mine, hopping over the gap and landing right next to me.

“Thank you,” she says softly, embarrassment written all over her face. She looks so different wearing that bikini. Beautiful, yes. But a little too much like every other girl.

The Orca Monroe standing before me right now is not the same Orca Monroe who sings with whales and watches the stars from her lighthouse.

“You can head in,” I tell her. “Jack will be there in a minute.”

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