I glance at them and then back at Palmer. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m worried.”
“Don’t be. Worry about yourself. Seems like you have a lot going on.”
“Are you rebranding the store?”
I stand and walk to my sister. I spin her toward the door and lead her out of my room. “Worry about what you’re going to do about Dr. Beau, since it seems like there’s history there.”
She whips her head back to me. “Was there anything else I did? You know, just so I can be aware?”
“I think we pretty much covered it.”
“Perfect,” she mutters as she leaves. I shut the door behind her and stare at the mock-ups near the fireplace.
I need to clear my mind, and I only know one way to do that.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LARKIN
In the distance, the Marina Island ferry approaches for its two o’clock shuttle. There normally aren’t many people coming to Marina Island at this time, nor are they leaving, which makes me wonder why they’ve always kept the time spot.
I dangle my legs off the old rock wall that lines my favorite running route and overlooks the bay while I let the afternoon sun heat up my already heated and sweating body. The water crashes into the cliff below, sending ocean spray up against my legs but not soaking me.
I miss this. The ocean, the sun glaring off it, the smell of salty air. I love living in Denver, but something about being on Marina Island puts a smile on my face. When Ford asked if I’d be opposed to coming back here for a month, I jumped right on the opportunity.
It’s home, and even if my parents are no longer with us, I still feel like they’re here. I know that’s one of the main reasons Beau came back to Marina Island—to be reminded of our parents, to feel their presence. And the fact that he realized his dream of being the town’s general practitioner and converting the old Victorian house on Marina Ave into his practice . . . I know Mom and Dad would be more than proud of him.
The pounding of approaching footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. I turn just in time to see Ford running in my direction. His white Under Armour shirt is drenched in sweat and clinging to every surface of his chest, revealing his thick pecs, his defined shoulders, and the deep divots of his abs. His strong legs propel him forward, and I have to look away to gain my bearings before he arrives.
He’s your boss, Larkin.
Your BOSS.
It doesn’t matter that he looks like the modern-day version of Prince Eric but with silver eyes that pierce right through your soul every time you look at him.
It doesn’t matter that he’s incredibly smart, ambitious, and driven, unlike anyone you have ever met.
And it certainly doesn’t matter that he is one of the nicest, most considerate men you have ever met.
He is your boss and that’s it. The man who signs your paychecks. The man who gave you a chance at working for him when you had no experience, just a story about how Watchful Wanderers was the last remaining connection you had to your deceased father.
“Hey,” Ford says, slowing his jog until he’s only a few feet away. “I was wondering if I’d find you out here, since you never returned to the inn.”
“Sorry. I’ll make up some work later tonight. I was just enjoying a little bit of time with the waves.”
He nods, and his understanding shines through. “No need to make up any time. I asked you to come to Marina Island, so take all the time you need. I know what it means to you to be here.”
See . . . considerate.
Good looking.
Sweet.
Charming.
It’s honestly quite devastating.
And he gets me.
We lost Mom when I was in middle school. Dad was our rock. He made sure we were going to be okay. Beau and I both clung to him for support. And even with Dad’s busy schedule as a plumber on the island, he always made time for us. Every weekend we were doing something outdoors, and even if the weather was bad, Dad would make the most of it. Watchful Wanderers was one of his favorite places to go, even if we didn’t even buy anything but just looked. We would look together. And when he passed, I felt lost. I was jumping around from job to job, never really doing anything too important or interesting. And that’s when Beau heard Ford was looking for an assistant. I’d never applied for something—in person—so fast. I walked into Ford’s office, claiming we had an appointment, and laid it all on the line. I told him he needed me, and I needed him. I left convinced he thought I was crazy, but the next day he called me and told me I got the job, on a trial basis, given my lack of experience.