Page 92 of The Romance Game

“No way. The weather was bad. He probably knew about Sailor’s Folly,” I counter.

“I had no plans to go on that adventure,” Royal mutters.

“When I was at the lighthouse, I circled the widow’s walk. I’mguessing at some point it had been open to tourists because there was one of those binocular units mounted on a pedestal and a sign with all the shipwrecks in the area.” She squints as if trying to see the image far away in her memory. “There was a barque listed on the plaque. I thought the word was funny. You know, bark like a dog does.”

“The only way to find out is to go up.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“Do you think that’s what the part of the will that said avoid the sand could mean, referring to Sailor’s Folly?” Isla asks.

We all go quiet because that’s exactly what it could mean. Perhaps the Crimson Tide is over there.

“I love you, Strawberry Shortcake.” Royal hugs her close and kisses her forehead.

Robyn wrinkles her nose. “Okay, enough you too. You’re making Nutmeg uncomfortable. You probably should’ve gone on your honeymoon.”

“But I thought you had fun,” Isla teases.

“Where did Mom and Dad’s boat supposedly sink?” I ask, because if the barque is along Sailor’s Folly, maybe that’s where they went missing too.

The door opens and CJ stands in the doorway, dripping wet. “It didn’t.”

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Royal says.

Nutmeg flicks her tail with disapproval.

The ladies are so excited to catch CJ up on our most recent developments, that we don’t have a chance to ask him where he docked his boat or why he returned in the storm. Okay, not to ask, but to tell him he’s an idiot.

We linger in Beans & Books until the rain lets up. Eventually, when it does, Harley leaves to get Luke and I head back to the house to get the journal and the pen with a plume. Maybe there is something written on the blank page that was inside the envelope after all.

No one is home, but before I return to town, I spot Harley on the beach with Luke. The treasure hunt is captivating, but I can’tthink of anything I’d rather be doing than spending time with these two.

I wave as I approach. Luke lunges toward me, arms wide open. The sand is still damp from the rain and Harley passes the little bundle of boy to me.

Carefully and gently tossing him in the air because Mama Bear has her eyes on me, I blow a raspberry on Luke’s belly each time he comes back to me. I used to think the fans cheering when I scored a touchdown was the best sound in the world, but his giggles take the championship.

“I had no idea what I was missing,” I say.

“You’re really good with the little guy.”

We start walking, both of us quiet at first as if recollecting the morning and all the days before now. I don’t know about Harley, but I’m not sure where to start or what to make of it.

Eventually, I break the silence. “I have to go to the Dry Tortugas,” I say, referring to a nearby island.

“I’ve always wondered why it’s called dry when it’s surrounded by water,” she says.

“Because it’s a desert island. Get it?”

“A desert here? This is the tropics.”

“It’s like a desert, dry, sandy, deserted, not to be confused with dessert unless there’s some ice cream there. It was a dad joke.”

She laughs lightly. “A bad dad joke.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Harley lets out a breath like she’s about to take a risk, “You’d make a great dad.”

“I would? Never thought of that.”

---