“I should probably tell you something.” Sebastian’s sitting on the gunwale, drinking the last of his coffee and eating his third croissant of the morning. Or the early afternoon. We’d all been happy with the late start—even Matty looks relaxed, basking in the sun and panting happily. It’s been good to have the charter booked, but it’s also been long days for the last week and a half.

And no time with Ella. Except for the texts, we’ve both been mired in our jobs. Me with the trips out. And Ella with getting everything set for the festival.

Sailing today with just Ella, her sister and some of Sebastian’s friends sounds like a perfect fucking day. I’ve been waiting for a day like this—where we can open the Heroine up and just let her sail. Charter runs are all about going places or doing specific things. It’s like everyone forgets the real magic isn’t in the destination, but in the journey. Full sails and nothing but water on the horizon.

So, I can’t for the life of me figure out why Sebastian has that dark look. I take a seat next to him. “What’s up?”

“Jean—the girl coming today—she’s Sloane’s sister.”

“Sloane, the woman you’re interested in?”

He nods and stuffs the rest of the croissant into his mouth.

“Okay.” I study him—that dark look on his face, sharp cleft on his chin. He’s as uneasy as I’ve ever seen him. “Why is that a big deal?”

He chews and swallows. “You haven’t met Jean.”

I stare at him for a really, really long moment. This is a side of my brother I haven’t seen. One I never thought I would. “You’re intimidated by her?”

He laughs. “You haven’t met Jean Lo.”

Jean is tiny. Not that tiny women can’t be intimidating, but it’s the first thing I notice about her. Tiny and, after stepping out of a shiny gray Jeep, she darts for my brother. He meets her on the ramp and scoops her up into a hug. When he sets her down, she whacks him on the arm.

“Why the fuck haven’t you called my sister?” Her hands settle on her hips, her chin tipping up to look at him, making her black hair tumble down her back. She’s pretty. I wonder if she and Sloane look alike. I picture what Sloane must look like—police uniform instead of Jean’s sweater and cut-offs. But maybe the same chin tilt and direct gaze. I can almost picture her. And why Sebastian is so caught by her.

I cross the deck, interested in how he’s going to answer Jean’s question. He’s been tight-lipped about the whole thing. Another clue that his thoughts about Sloane are heavier than normal. Sebastian isn’t a bragger like Dev, but he’s been known to share a detail or two in the past. His sullen not-talking has me curious.

“Do you have some kind of cell-phone deficiency?” Jean continues while Sebastian grins at her. “Traumatic accident? Memory loss? What’s your excuse for being a dick?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s good to see you too, Jean. And I did call her. She didn’t call me back.”

I raise an eyebrow at this. Sebastian hadn’t mentioned it.

Jean glares at my brother. “I’m not sure if I believe you.” She nods toward me, but keeps staring at Sebastian. “Do you believe him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I tilt my head, watching as she considers this. Behind her, a guy strolls down the ramp. I think he’s with Jean, but he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. He stops on the dock, his gaze on the Heroine’s rigging, and shoves his hands into his jeans. Gray t-shirt, gray eyes, gray Jeep. Everything about him is gray. Or maybe that’s my colorblindness playing tricks.

Jean sighs at Sebastian and then looks at me. Her eyes widen. “Oh, holy look-a-likes. Fuck, Sebastian, you should have warned me.”

He laughs, that darkness from earlier lightening a few shades. “I told you I had a twin.”

“You said twin. Not twin.” She sticks out a hand toward me. “I’m Jean. And you’re the pretty one.”

Both my eyebrows go up as I shake her hand. “Is that so? I wasn’t aware.”

“Other than that little scar on your jaw.” Her eyes narrow as she glances back and forth a few times. “You’re still the pretty one. Damn, Sloane should see this.” She fishes in her pocket and pulls out a phone, but as she points it at us, the guy from the dock is suddenly there. He swoops her up, throwing her over his shoulder, her head dangling behind his back. She shrieks and hits him with her phone.

“Kepler, put me down!” She wiggles on his shoulder.

“No.” He holds out a hand to me, his other tucked around her knees. Serious gray eyes focus on me while she wiggles. “I’m Kepler. And this boat is a work of art. You’ll explain to me how the force and lift works on each sail?”

“Sure.” I shrug, my lips turning up. Something tells me that it’s going to be an interesting sailing day.

“Thanks.” He shakes hands with my brother and then drops Jean back on the deck before saying something in a low tone. And just when I think she’s going to snap at him, she smiles. Like full-on smiles—warm, wide. Then she pushes up to her toes and kisses him.

I turn to Sebastian. “You called Sloane?”

“A few times, maybe.” He tilts his head away from me. “Is Ella coming?”

“Hope so. Renee too.”

Okay, now Jean and Kepler are deep into a kiss that makes both Sebastian and me turn around to face port.

But I forget about them entirely because Ella’s walking down the Harborwalk. Sexy in those low-rise jeans. She’s wearing a bluish sweater that hangs off her shoulder to reveal the white strap of something—bra? Tank top? Either way, it sets my imagination singing. She’s balancing a Laura’s Bakery box in front of her.

I can’t express how happy it makes me that she’s walking toward me instead of running away. Like another step forward. Maybe the next will be her feeling comfortable enough to tell me about her mother. If I can just get her to start trusting me.

“Ella’s here,” Sebastian announces as if I haven’t noticed. Then he hits me on the shoulder. “And looks like she’s got some cock cakes.”

I wince. “Shouldn’t have told you about that.”

Ella’s distracted. I realize it as soon as I try to take the cupcakes from her. She holds on to the box, a little line developing between her eyebrows. I haven’t seen that line before. And I immediately want to do whatever it takes to erase it.

I tug lightly on the box when she doesn’t release it. “Unwilling to give them up? I’d feel exactly the same.”

“Oh.” She lets me take it from her. “An assortment. I know Dev likes the bacon ones.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

“Because he stopped in the bakery the other day and cleaned us out.”

“I’m surprised,” I say. “It’s a threat to his precious figure.”

She glances toward the Heroine, where Dev is talking loudly to Jean. They seem to be in some sort of debate. Of course, Dev’s already got his shirt off.

“Well, he did ask about Renee,” she says.

Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. “He’s intent on figuring out why he’s a rolling pin.”

“That’s exactly why he’s a rolling pin. Because he can’t let it go.” She pulls up the shoulder of her sweater, but it slips down just as quickly, and I try not to stare. Bra? Tank top? Swimsuit? These are questions I can’t ignore.

I lean in toward her, dropping my voice into a tease. “How is a rolling pin different from a spork?”

Her mouth falls open a little, her eyes focusing on me for the first time since she’s arrived. “You heard about that?”

“Just a little.” I hold up the box. “You should make these for the festival. I mean, not just the bacon. The pumpkin and the sweet ones too. All of them. Cupcakes and kites.”

She bites her lip. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that I have…”

“What? You know they’re good, right?”

A small smile curls her lips, confidence sliding through. Sexy-as-hell confidence. And it doesn’t hurt that the shoulder of her sweater keeps slipping lower.

“I know they’re good,” she says. “But that would be a lot of cupcakes.”

“So it’s a manpower issue?” I tap my fingers on the underside of the box. “What if you had three men at your beck and call?”

Did she just redden a little?

“Are you sure they’d agree to do that?” She glances toward the boat. “It would be really early in the morning. And it’s lots of careful work. And—”

“I’m certain.” I cut her off because I want her to know just how deeply certain I am. When she gives me a full smile, I feel like I’ve just been awarded a medal.

She’s trusting me. It’s just one small thing, but she’s trusting me. Which makes me want more. Maybe that’s why I want her on the boat so much too. It’s another form of trust.