I’d searched for Masyn after I left Ty’s house last night. Every place I could think of that she might be was a miss. No one had seen her, and she hadn’t gone home—I dreaded hearing what rumors got stirred up about my frantic search for her. It was too much to hope that she’d gone to my house to wait for me to show up. I gave up around eleven, knowing I’d see her in the morning at work, although trying to sleep was as fruitless as my search for Masyn. I tossed and turned all night worrying about her. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never seen her act like this about anything. She went with the flow, regardless of who was involved—the more, the merrier. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what her aversion to Peyton was. There was no way she was jealous, and I refused to believe Beau’s theory might hold water, because if it were true, then I had bigger fish to fry than Peyton Holstein.

The time clock glowed when I punched in a little before six. My shift didn’t start for another hour. I just couldn’t stand another sixty minutes of pacing around my house. She hadn’t read or responded to any of my messages, nor had she answered my calls. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that I was frantic, but she hadn’t put an end to my suffering. The earlier I got to work, the more time I’d have to corner her before we had to actually do something. There was no way she could avoid talking to me here unless she called in sick, which she never did. Yet sitting here, time kept ticking away with no sign of her.

“Hey, Farley. You heard from Masyn?” I asked the owner’s son as he walked through the breakroom.

“Nah, why?”

“She’s not here yet. Just wondering if she called in sick.”

“There’d have to be a world war or zombie apocalypse for her not to show up.” He poured a cup of coffee and then faced me. “Shouldn’t you know where she is?”

Why the hell does everyone think I know her every move? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head and held up his hand, spilling his coffee down his arm. “Shit. That’s hot.” He wiped his arm on his shirt. “It doesn’t mean anything other than you two are attached at the hip.”

That didn’t warrant a response. “If you hear from her, can you let me know?”

His skeptical expression made me think he was going to probe; thankfully, he didn’t. A few minutes later, he poked his head in the door. “Hey, Lee. Masyn’s here.”

She came into view, meaning she’d been next to him, clocking in when he loudly announced her arrival. I jumped up to follow her and pushed him out of the way. “Masyn.”

She stopped dead in her tracks and her back stiffened. She held her fists in tight balls at her sides. It didn’t take me long to catch up to her and step around her.

“What’s up, Lee?” Her indifference was nothing more than an act, but it stung all the same.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to get to work. What’s going on with you?” She folded her arms across her chest and squared her shoulders. There wasn’t a hint of amusement or happiness in her expression, and her eyes were sad—dull. None of the color I liked to pick apart from the brown was there to see.

“Where’d you go last night?”

“The dock.”

“You drove all the way out to Lake Martin?” No wonder I’d never found her. It was a hike from town to the water, not to mention pitch black at night. It wasn’t a commercial marina, just some rickety old wood we’d been going to since we could drive.

“Yep.” She offered no explanation for why or how long she’d stayed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me. What have I done?” I needed to lower my voice.

Other guys in the shop stared at the two of us lingering in the walkway. I didn’t do drama, and I sure as hell didn’t do it in public. I wasn’t interested in people knowing my business. It was hard enough to keep things to yourself in Harden as it was.

She’d yet to uncross her arms, and her stare was so ice-cold, a chill ran up my spine. “I don’t know why you’d think you’ve done anything.” Her brows arched waiting for my response.

“Break it up, you two. The metal isn’t going to turn itself,” Farley squawked at us.

Nothing was going to be resolved standing here. And getting written up would only further irritate her. “We’re not done, Masyn.” I started to back off toward my station, still holding her attention.

I could have choked her when she rolled her eyes and shrugged just before she pivoted on the ball of her foot and stomped off. Her inability—or rather refusal—to act like an adult was uncharacteristic and sent me careening into immaturity with her. If we’d been in a sandbox, I would have hurled a handful of dirt at her. Too bad we weren’t five anymore—that sounded rather cathartic.

Masyn managed to avoid me all day. Even at lunch, she ate in her car. It took a hell of a lot of restraint not to go out there and beat on the window to force her to talk. All it would do is rile up the guys in the shop, and listening to their ribbing for the remainder of the afternoon wouldn’t help my mood any.

At quitting time, she was the first to punch out, and then she practically sprinted to her car and sped into the street. Just in time, I burst out into the parking lot, shielding my eyes from the sun, and watched her peel out. It was hot as hell, and I was standing there sweating like a whore in church. A couple of the guys clapped my shoulder as they left, yet I didn’t move. Masyn was long gone, and I hadn’t budged.

The lot was empty when I finally got in the truck to drive home. I didn’t have a clue what Peyton had in mind; I just knew I couldn’t do it in Dickies covered in grease. A shower was my top priority, and it couldn’t come soon enough. When I looked over my shoulder and backed out, I caught a whiff of myself and it was pungent. No one ever accused me of not putting in a hard day’s work—but I didn’t need to smell like it when I wasn’t at the shop.

Beau’s BMW sat in my driveway when I pulled up. He leaned against the hood with his cellphone in his hand. I wondered if he’d ever considered having it surgically attached to his palm.

“Hey, man. What are you doing here?”

“Other than arguing with Felicity? Nothing much. Didn’t have much going on, so I thought I’d stop by and see what you were up to.”

“Supposed to get together with Peyton, although you already knew that.”

He tried to act surprised and failed miserably. “Oh yeah, I forgot.” Liar. “What are you two doing?”

“No clue. You’re welcome to tag along.” I walked by him and opened the front door.

“Remind me why you lock this place up…”

We lived in a small town where crime was non-existent. This was the type of town where neighbors shot people for being in places they weren’t supposed to be, and then asked questions afterward. There was no threat to my house or my belongings; I just didn’t feel the need to encourage uninvited visitors. “Are you still talking?”

He bounced around like he was amped up on something, but Beau had never done an illegal thing in his life. This was his natural exuberance. Felicity had kept him so bogged down that I hadn’t seen him this light in years. “So what are we doing? Masyn coming?”

Talking as I walked, Beau followed me around the house. I stripped my shirt off on my way to the laundry room and tossed it into the basket when I got there. He continued rambling behind me. And when I started to unbutton my pants, I faced him. “Dude. You mind?” And I motioned toward my pants.

“No, go ahead.” And then he stood there yapping while I stripped my filthy pants off and added them to the basket with my shirt. “We could take the boat out. There’s still plenty of daylight.”

I wore nothing but boxers, yet weirdly enough, Beau continued to trail after me like a lost dog. There was no way I was letting him into the bathroom.

“It is already in the slip? Or would I have to go get it from your parents’ house?” I had no desire to tow, or return, the Queen Mary forty-five minutes down the road. The Chastains’ large deck boat was fun to play around on; it was not fun to transport. It was as hard on my transmission as it was on my brakes, neither of which I had an interest in replacing.

“It’s there. My dad and I moved it this morning.”

I kept forgetting Beau had nowhere to be, and obviously nothing to do. “How long have you been hanging around outside waiting for me to get here?” I stopped at the door to my bedroom and whirled around to confront him.

After a quick shrug, he stared at me like I’d shot his favorite coon dog. “I dunno. Since I got back to my parents’ house.” Beau tried to put on a good front. He’d maintained his happy composure and had nothing good to say about Felicity, yet there was no way he couldn’t be hurting on some level—even if it was just the betrayal of being lied to and manipulated. “I know you have a life that doesn’t really include me on a daily basis. I just need to stay busy until I get back to mine. A week alone might send me over the edge.”

“No worries. The lake sounds like a plan, and based on what little I learned about Peyton, it will probably be a new experience for her. While I shower, can you pack a cooler, grab some towels, and find the most unappealing swimsuit Masyn has here?”

“On it.”

When I was able to escape to the shower without an audience, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I walked on eggshells everywhere I went. I hated not being comfortable in my own home. One best friend needed his hand held while he moved through canceling a wedding, and the other avoided me like the plague and harbored some hatred for a woman she knew nothing about. The whiplash of the last two days had already started to take its toll.

Before I jumped in the shower, I grabbed my cell and sent Peyton a text.

Me: Beau and I thought the lake would be fun. His parents have a boat there.

Peyton: Sounds great.

Me: Text me which hotel you’re at. We’ll pick you up in about an hour.

I didn’t wait for her response. The shower and I needed to become one, and I hoped the hot water beating down on my shoulders and back would release some of the tension I carried. It didn’t completely eliminate it, although it definitely helped. A couple of hours in the sun and as many beers should finish the job.

Once I had on trunks and a T-shirt, I slid on a pair of flip-flops. Peyton’s hotel wasn’t far from the church, so it would only take a few minutes to get there. I hesitated to call Masyn about joining us, but I didn’t want to create a greater divide by excluding her. My attempt was pointless. She didn’t answer, nor did she read my text, although, I guess it was possible she’d turned off her read message receipts. Masyn was lucky we’d been friends for so long. I didn’t put forth this much effort for any woman.

Beau knocked on my door. “You ready? I got everything in the truck.”

I swung the door open to let him in while I grabbed my keys and phone. “Did you find a swimsuit?”

“For Peyton?”

I nodded and prayed Masyn had some hideous thing I’d forgotten was in the drawer.

“Yeah, although I doubt it’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Two-piece?” I questioned.

“Yeah. Why does it matter? No guy in their right mind would encourage a woman to wear more on the water, or hell, anywhere for that matter.”

I glared at him like he was an idiot. He was an idiot. We didn’t have heart-to-hearts about me drawing our initials and flowers around Masyn’s name on napkins at the bar, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know what I hadn’t confessed. He just chose to ignore it because Masyn did—salt in an open wound kind of thing.

“I’m surprised you’d want to see your ex-fiancée’s sister half-naked and wet. Isn’t that incestuous in some twisted way?”

“Gross. I don’t have any intention of touching her. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view. God gave us beauty to admire.”

“Beauty, lust—it’s all the same thing, right?”

“Potato patato.”

“I tried to call Masyn to see if she wanted to go.”

“No answer?”

“Nope. You talked to her?”

“Briefly. She pretty much blew me off.” Beau didn’t talk to Masyn daily or spend time with her on a regular basis. Since he’d left for college, he hadn’t been home much during the school years, and since both of us worked during the summer, we only saw him on weekends. Her blowing him off wasn’t the same wound as it was to me.

There was no point in interrogating him. Even if he had any knowledge, he wouldn’t violate her confidence and share anything he knew. Over the years, there were times those trusts caused rifts in our friendships until we were old enough to value the worth of the secrets. This was one of those times I wanted to revert back to high school and pitch a fit and insist he could end this crap with Masyn if he would tell me what her problem was. Although he’d say he already had, I just didn’t believe it.

Peyton was standing outside the hotel when we pulled up. Beau crawled into the back seat to allow her to sit up front.

As soon as she climbed up, I laughed and said, “You’re going to bake your brains out in that outfit. Do you want to go change?”

Her pale-blue eyes drifted down her blouse to her jeans. I hadn’t even noticed the heels until I followed her eyes. She sighed and angled her body in the seat so she could talk to me and Beau at the same time. “I don’t have anything else with me. I didn’t exactly come to Georgia prepared to bask in the sun for a week.” Peyton must have thought she’d said something inappropriate. “Sorry, Beau. I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

“No offense taken.”

I’d offer her Masyn’s crap back at my house except that Peyton had a solid six inches on her and probably twenty pounds. They were both thin; Masyn was just tiny.

“Lee had me grab a swimsuit for you. We could swing by my parents’ house. I’m sure my mom has a T-shirt and some shorts that would work.”

With that settled, we made a pit stop at the Chastains’ so Peyton could change, and we were at the lake an hour later. Walking down the dock, Beau and I knew where we were going, but Peyton was unsure. It wasn’t that she didn’t know which boat was Beau’s; there was a hint of green tinting her cheeks.

I stopped and took the bag she was carrying with the towels in it. “Do you get seasick?”

“I never have before, although I’ve never been on a lake, only the ocean.”

“In a small boat?”

The grimace pulling at her lips answered that question. Yachts and cruise ships felt like being on land, even with rough water.

“We can go home? We don’t have to stay if you think you’re going to get sick.” I’d be irritated as all hell, but I’d do it. I didn’t get sick on the water because of the motion, but I’d been sick on a boat plenty of times because I’d drunk too much in the sun—it was fucking miserable.

“No.” She waved me off as though my suggestion were silly. “I’m sure I’ll be fine once we start moving. I think it’s the swaying of the dock.”

I hoped she was right. I shifted the stuff in my hands to keep from dropping it and jerked my head in the direction of Beau who’d long since left us behind. “Come on, the quicker we get on the water, the faster the breeze will be blowing in your face. The heat doesn’t help.”

Beau, Masyn, and I used to come out here all the time with Bodie and Braden. We spent hours racing around the lake on inner tubes and water skis. After high school, Bodie and Braden took over, and we joined them less often until we were down to once or twice a summer. This was one of those places in my mind that held the answers to all the world’s problems—there was nothing that couldn’t be fixed or made better on this lake. There wasn’t a single bad memory here. Every one of them was good and made me long for a time when life was less crowded with responsibility. And even though we’d had dozens of other girls on the boat with us at different times over the years, Masyn not being here today seemed off.

Peyton put on a brave face and forced a smile as Beau helped her onto the deck. I dropped the bag and small cooler onto the floor of the boat and hopped in. Normally, I sat in the seat next to Beau while he drove—his boat, he was captain—but since Peyton situated herself up front, I joined her. When Beau started the engine, she chewed on her lip and grabbed the seat cushion and edge of the boat as soon as we started moving.

I tried to mask my humor, although I did a shitty job. “Once we get through the no-wake zone, he’ll pick up speed.”

“Was that meant to comfort me?” She might choke on her nervous laughter.

I pointed to the very front of the boat, currently sitting high in the water. “When we’re moving faster, the front will come down, so we’re sitting flat on the water. You’ll be able to see where we’re going—so yes, it was meant to comfort you. You can feel every bump when the water is choppy and the boat is moving slow. At faster speeds, the boat doesn’t hit the waves the same way—it cuts through them instead of fighting against them.”

Peyton nodded to get me to shut up. Her knuckles were white, and her thighs flexed from where she’d pushed her feet into the carpet on the deck trying to keep herself from moving. I shifted over next to her and pried her hand off the rail. She clutched my fingers, terrified. I had to give her credit—she didn’t complain and didn’t puss out. Peyton was bound and determined to hang with us. I didn’t have a clue if she was really that bored sitting at the hotel or if she was trying to push her own envelope and experience something she didn’t have the chance to do in her world of high-priced purses and aged wine.

As I predicted, the boat reached the main channel. Beau hit about sixty miles per hour and leveled out the bow, and Peyton turned her face toward the sun and the breeze. Just as a genuine smile graced her lips, she jerked back and slapped a hand to her face.

“Oh my God, what was that? It felt like a bullet hitting my nose.”

I wasn’t sure how Beau could even hear what she said over the noise of the engine; all I saw was him snicker and put his sunglasses on.

“Bug.”

Her features contorted into an expression that was worthy of film. If I’d had a camera, I would’ve taken a picture. “That’s so gross.”

“That’s why we usually sit in the back.”

She swatted at me playfully and wiped at the spot on her nose where the bug had made his suicide mission. “You could’ve told me.”

“Not much fun in that. There’s only one way to learn—and that’s to do.”

It didn’t take Peyton long to get comfortable enough to move around. I pulled off my T-shirt and threw it in the bag with the towels, and Beau followed shortly after. Even this late in the afternoon, June sun in Georgia could be brutal, and if it didn’t get you, then the humidity would. She suffered in clothes for a hell of a lot longer than I could have stood it.

Then suddenly, she swayed and got to her feet. “Okay. That’s it. I’m done.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, and Beau shrugged and kept driving. He could navigate this lake with his eyes closed, so the distraction of Peyton stripping out of the shorts and T-shirt Mrs. Chastain had provided didn’t deter him.

“What’s wrong? Another bug?” I chuckled, grabbed a beer from the cooler, and tossed one to Beau.

“No! Sweat just ran down my back.”

“Sorry, darlin’. There’s no AC on the lake.”

“It never gets this hot in New York. How do you take it? I feel like I just got out of a sauna.”

“We get in.”

Beau pulled into a cove where all the locals frequented, cut the engine, and drifted in. There wasn’t a lot of traffic to contend with on a Monday afternoon. People were either still at work or had been here all weekend and had taken the day off. I loved coming out here during the week when it wasn’t as crowded.

Peyton sat in awe as she stared at the scenery in front of her. The cove was cut out and had high sides that provided shade, along with the trees that topped them. There was a bit of a waterfall that landed on flat rocks people used to slide into the lake. I hadn’t seen anyone jump off the rope swing yet, but it was up there, too—you just had to hike to get to it. That freefall was worth every step up the steep bank.

Beau tossed out the anchor and then the ladder. Standing on the bow, he glanced back. “You guys coming?”

“How do we get there?” Peyton’s confusion was actually rather charming.

Beau’s brow furrowed with his answer. “Swim.” And he dove off the front and resurfaced a few feet farther out.

“In a lake?” she nearly screeched.

“What’s different about swimming in a lake or an ocean? At least in a lake, you don’t end up sticky and covered in salt. Come on.”

Hesitantly, she joined me at the same place Beau had jumped off. “I’m not diving. I don’t want to hit my head.”

“It’s over a hundred feet deep, but suit yourself.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her off with me, not giving her a chance to object.

When she came out of the water, she looked a bit like a drowned rat, until a stunning smile took over. Yeah, she liked it. At the shore, Beau was making his second trip up the rocks and begged her to come with him. Hand in hand, they climbed the slippery slope while I waited at the bottom. It was like watching a kid on a sled in the snow for the first time. Fear when she first started sliding was quickly replaced with excitement. The two of them screamed like girls on a roller coaster the whole way down. I waded from the water, sat in the sand, and watched. I hadn’t seen Beau this happy since the summer after our senior year. And I didn’t know Peyton well enough to make much of a guess, although I’d wager to say, she was letting loose and loving it.

“Beau, you wanna go up to the swing?”

He turned to Peyton. “You going to be all right down here? You can keep sliding.”

“Why can’t I go to the swing?” She’d gotten brave—or didn’t have a clue what we were talking about, which was more likely.

“You’re welcome to go.” I pointed up the side of the hill to the red bandana tied to the knot on the end of the rope. “That’s it up there.”

“I’m game.” Zero hesitation.

“You’re not afraid of heights?”

She laughed and shrugged me off. “No one’s afraid of heights, Lee. They’re afraid of the fall.”

Well, all right then.

My thighs burned after the fourth trip up, and my biceps ached from holding my weight until the rope reached its full length and I twisted myself off and swung into the air. I gave up after five turns, but I lost count how many times Peyton made the trip. It was like she was born for this. I wondered if she’d been planted in a place she couldn’t thrive—maybe Harden was where she needed to put down roots. She and Beau had latched on to each other with quick camaraderie. He looked at Peyton the way he should have looked at Felicity. I didn’t even want to think about the hornets’ nest that match would create. Either way, seeing him happy was a hell of a lot better than the way I’d found him on Saturday morning.

As the sun started to dip, I hollered to Beau that we needed to head out. Even as far away as they were, the disappointment on her face was evident. He said something to her that I couldn’t hear and it caused her to smile and take one last jump. Beau followed.

I climbed the ladder on the side of the boat first and tossed towels to Beau as they got in. He caught the first one, wrapped it around Peyton’s shoulders, and then grabbed the second one for himself.

“You want to drive back, Lee?” The only times Beau had ever offered to let me drive were when he was so drunk he couldn’t stop puking over the side, and when he broke his nose on the rocks sliding down head first. His eyes had swollen up so fast, we really would have had to test the theory about him navigating blindfolded.

The keys were already in the ignition when I took the wheel. Beau and Peyton sat up front—clearly, she hadn’t learned her lesson about bugs, because they didn’t vanish with the setting of the sun. I drove back to the marina, we hosed off the boat and replaced the cover, and then we threw away our trash. When the two of them scrambled to get in the back seat, that was where I drew the line.

“Hell no. One of you needs to get your ass up front. I’m not a damn chauffeur.”

Peyton blushed, and Beau’s splotches made an appearance. These two were perfect for each other—even their skin matched.

“I’m starved. Do you two want to grab dinner when we get back to Harden?” The expression on Beau’s face was pitifully filled with hope when he stared at me and then into the back seat at Peyton.

I could have answered for Peyton. If she didn’t eat with us, then she had to eat alone. And as much as I liked her, I didn’t think leaving the two of them together was a great idea. There was no telling where Beau’s head was—if it was in his pants, he needed to think hard about where that might lead in the long run. If it were on his neck, he still needed to think about the consequences of what a relationship of any kind with Peyton Holstein would be like. Therefore, by default, I had gone from chauffeur to chaperone.