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“My cousin Eliza left the island several years ago to work for our aunt.”

“What does she do?”

“My cousin or my aunt?”

Sadie lifted a shoulder. “Either one.”

“Well, my aunt writes books, and my cousin works as her assistant.”

“That’s pretty cool. Is she someone I may have heard of?”

“Depends on if you like to read.” Asher shoved a hand in his front pocket and wandered around the garage.

“I used to read all the time. The past couple months, well, I really haven’t had the time or the energy.”

“Sally Jo Wilson.”

Sadie reached out and grabbed his arm, his skin warm under her touch. “Shut up. Are you serious? Sally Jo Wilson,TheNew York Timesbestselling author, is your aunt?”

He laughed. “For thirty-three years now. You’re not the first person to have that kind of reaction. She’s the baby of the family but the bossiest one if you ask me. Doesn’t need an invitation to share her opinion. Dad and Uncle Terry call her Pipsqueak, which annoys her, so she said she had to learn to stand up for herself.”

Sadie set the journals in the box on the floor next to her feet and closed up the flaps. She hefted it in her arms. “She comes across so friendly in the interviews and podcasts that I’ve listened to.”

Asher took the box from her and added it to the stack. His T-shirt slid up, offering her a glimpse of a muscled stomach. “She is very friendly. Pretty great, actually. I’ve been around my share of divas, and she doesn’t even compare. Besides, she’s family, and I love her.”

“She has a new book coming out, doesn’t she?” She gathered the journals in her arms once again and headed for the open garage door. She needed a little air.

Asher shrugged. “Don’t know. Can’t keep up. Seems like she’s putting one out every six months now.”

“Do you read them?”

“Chick books? No way.” Asher laughed, a rich sound that bounced off the ceiling and pinged her heart. “I’m more of a Lee Child or David Baldacci fan.”

If she wasn’t careful, she could get used to hearing him laugh pretty quickly.

“So, family saga romances aren’t your thing, eh?”

“I prefer suspense novels. Or even psychological thrillers. I like knowing what makes a person tick.”

“I’m not a very good judge of character these days.” She muttered the words to herself.

He took a step closer. “Why not?”

She stepped back and knocked her shoulder against the metal door track. “Let’s just say I had trouble discerning between who a person seems and who they really are.”

Now they were venturing into territory she didn’t want to explore.

Sadie eyed the open door that gave her an angled look at the front porch. “Regarding the railing, would you mind replacing it with wood for now? Then we can look into doing vinyl a little down the road.”

“Works for me.” Asher turned and headed back to the porch.

As if her feet had a mind of their own, she walked out of the garage and stood in the driveway, watching him jog across the grass to where his tools glimmered in the yard.

At first, she’d thought Asher was a bit mysterious, and she didn’t do mysterious.

Not anymore.

Now, he was more like an enigma. A puzzle with a missing piece.