My breath hitched. He had a gorgeous laugh. Was there anything ugly about the man?

Even the way he walked was captivating.

And he was currently walking toward me.

It was one of those moments I prayed I looked cool and nonchalant, leaning against the trash cans that smelled like old hot dogs and wet dog hair.

"Sorry." He ran his fingers through his wavy hair, slicking it back, then shook some droplets out. I imagined it wouldn't be a stretch to see girls trying to lick the water out of the air.

I nodded.

"What? No words of sarcasm?"

Smiling, I opened my mouth to say something just as his cell went off.

"She's fine, Jay. I'm fine. Everyone's fine," he sang, winking in my direction. "Oh." His face went from easy going to tense as his eyes darted back and forth between me and some imaginary object in front of him. "No, problem. We'll figure it out."

He ended the call and gave me a long, heated stare.

"Jay?" I offered.

"You should have been a detective in another life." He wrapped an arm around me and led us toward the exit.

"Yeah, my hearing his name had nothing to do with knowing who was on the other end of the line. I just calculated the minutes we'd been gone and divided that by the distance traveled — and boom — Jamie Jaymeson, calling to check in at exactly three in the afternoon."

"You're kind of a smart ass." Linc nodded his head in approval. "I like it. No wonder you and Demetri are best friends."

"Told you it wasn't just the Sour Patch Kids."

"That you did." He sent a quick text, I imagined to our driver, and then faced me. "So Jay wants us to stay the night."

"At his house?" I asked, confused. I mean, I lived there. Why would I need an invitation from my own family?

"No." Linc licked his lips.

I tried desperately not to follow with my hungry gaze. "Here in Newport. Apparently, a huge storm's coming in, and your sister's freaked about us driving. Flash flood warnings have already been issued, and because of the whole…" He gulped, looking away.

"Because of my parents' accident, you mean?"

Linc's eyes flashed with regret. "Yeah, she just… didn't want you to have a relapse like last time."

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Last time."

"You don't have to tell me."

"What's there to tell?" I looked down at my muddy shoes. "There was a storm, we drove in it, I was so freaked out we were going to get into a car accident that I hyperventilated, nearly passed out, then started screaming hysterically when another car's headlights flashed us because our high beams were on." I let out a long exhale, counting to five before continuing. "It was shortly after I stopped talking, so somehow she thinks the whole car nearly hitting me then us being in that thunderstorm just compounded the whole mute thing."

Linc grabbed my hand. "You're not mute."

"Not with you. But ask me to talk to the milkman, I'd probably shriek and run in the other direction."

Linc winked. "Probably because they don't exist anymore, and seeing one out in the wild would be like a whale walking on land."

"It happens you know, whale walking," I teased.

"Right up there with milk delivery and VHS tapes making a comeback." Linc nodded. "But thanks for the visual that's going to permeate my dreams tonight."

I giggled as the limo pulled up to the front entrance.

"So, where are we staying? In the limo?"

Linc burst out laughing. "Hell no. Do I look like the type of guy who would sleep in a car?"

I eyed his wet shirt and shaggy hair then met his gaze and gave him a tentative shrug.

"So I look like shit. Message received. Let's go freshen up, then it's time for crabs."

I gasped. "I'm not that kind of girl."

Linc's cheeks reddened instantly. "Are you implying I have crabs?"

"Hey, you said it, not me." The talking was getting so much easier.

"I think I liked you better mute."

I didn't take offense to that. I knew he was kidding, and it helped that when he said it, he didn't take his eyes off my mouth.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Lincoln

HER VOICE WAS REALLY PRETTY. IT wasn't what I'd expected. When I'd overheard her talking on the street in front of my apartment, it had been muffled, distorted. In all the times I'd imagined her talking since then, her voice had always sounded low in my head. I don't know why, maybe because Pris's voice was low and a bit throaty?

But Dani's? It was lyrical.

I could listen to her talk all day.

I was probably getting pneumonia from being out in the rain —the only explanation why I was staring at her mouth like I wanted to actually taste the words as she spoke them across my lips.

All the wrong parts of me twitched with excitement.

One in general that was making things… hard, not difficult, hard…

Shit.

"I've never stayed overnight in Depot Bay," she offered, glancing out the window as she tied her hair back into a low bun. Her vintage shirt rose just above her hips, giving me a glimpse of her tan skin. I barely held in my whimper as I tried to adjust the way I was sitting without her catching on.

"Me either." That was all I had to offer her. Two words and the distinct impression that, while she was turning into quite the conversationalist, I was suddenly without the ability to string full sentences together that didn't include words like lick, bite, nip.