Page 106 of Catching Trouble

I feigned outrage, eventually losing the battle to contain my smile. “You wouldn’t mind if she was here next time you visited?”

Sophie grinned. “I’d love it. She’s so fun. I want her to take me cliff diving and show me how to draw in the coffee.”

I widened my eyes. “No cliffs, please. And don’t tell your Maman you’ve tried coffee.”

Sophie gave a full-throated laugh. The sound was beautiful. “Everyone my age in Paris drinks coffee.”

Her response was so matter of fact, so mature. A dull ache settled behind my ribs. I’d missed so much of her growing up.

“What are you going to do about Chloe?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Last I saw, she was going down to the beach, and none too happy with me. I’ll need to convince her to come back.”

“How will you do that?”

I looked at Sophie—at the blue T-shirt she wore—and a spark of an idea struck. I ran a hand over her head, mussing up her hair. “Maybe I need to find some shipwrecked treasure.”

31

CHLOE

Iran my toes through the tiny shells. The little cove where Maxime and I first tangled felt different from the main beach at Furze. With its base of sand, not pebbles, it was softer. They were the same grains that’d clung to his skin when he’d rowed us into the sea cave during the squall.

I closed my eyes, savouring the memory of knotting myfingers in his dark hair and the salt on his skin, warm beneath my touch.

I sighed. My thoughts always returned to him.

And now he’d probably ask me to leave. Like I told Valerie in his kitchen, I wasn’t ashamed of my dyslexia—only that I hadn’t told him, and that it had affected Sophie. My empty belly churned. I couldn’t bear him being angry or thinking he couldn’t trust me.

I lay back against the warm sand with a sigh. When I first met Maxime—with his scowl andtight-lipped quiet, I’d imagined him quick to anger. As he’d slowly revealed his true self to me, it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. And now, I missed the warmth of his light.

He’d been caring, and so tender after thebee sting. I bit down on my lip. He’d shown that same tenderness last night, too. Not always—not when I asked for more—but as we lay together in the dark, entwined in his bed. I’d never felt so safe or loved. Like hesaw me as the most incredible thing in the world.

At the recollection, I rolled onto my side, pulling my knees to my chest and hugging them close. The odds of an encore werelow. And the thought I’d never feel that way again stung.

Maxime, and the time we’d shared, would remain a beautiful memory. A souvenir to tuck away for my lonely nights back in London.

I’d all but resolved myself to going back. If nothing else, my weeks in Furze—and the way I’d drawn Sophie out of her shell—had shown me that maybe Icouldmake a difference. Maybe I’d volunteer at an animal shelter. Or maybe Iwouldcontinue with the coffee art. It wasn’t what my parents had in mind, but if I grew my following, I could earn a decent wage and maybeopen a place of my own one day.

My insides twisted as I thought of standing alone behind my own coffee machine.

Who was I trying to convince? Maxime anchored me. No matter how hard life tugged, I’d always drift back to him.

But would he feel the same way after this morning? Yesterday, I would’ve said we had a chance.But now? Maybe I’d already lost him.

My phone rang against the sand, jolting me from my misery. I scrambled to pick it up. I already knew who it’d be, and the knowledge warmed my heart.

Iris.

I’d put out an SOS the second I reached the cove. She hadn’t answered, probably busy playing doubles with Luc. But now, I’d never been more grateful to see her name on the screen.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was tight and urgent. The widening pit in my stomach eased just hearing it.

I grimaced. “I think I did something really stupid.”

Iris huffed. “Chlo, nothing you ever do is stupid. That’s why I trust you as my wing woman.”

“Well … maybe you should start interviewing for a new co-pilot.”