Page 18 of Hidden Harbor (Evergreen Rescue #1)

W ishing Anya goodnight was difficult when all I wanted was to drag her closer. But the couch didn’t exactly offer a lot of privacy. And taking things into her bedroom with Violet home and still angry from earlier didn’t seem wise. I didn’t need more temptation.

Slow was starting to look an awful lot like fast. Anya still seemed hesitant. Skittish. I didn’t want to spook her, even if all I had in mind was holding her.

My phone pinged with an incoming text as I went to set my alarm.

I opened the message from Gran. She’d sent a grainy photo of me and Anya that looked like it could be from a doorbell camera.

I groaned as I recognized the car in the drive.

Lee. The traitor. Trust my paranoid friend to have a camera aimed at the street. But why had he brought Gran into it?

Gran: Lookie, lookie, who’s getting some nooky…

Gran: You’re welcome.

Maybe I should have felt more sheepish about getting caught kissing Anya in public.

Again. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

If claiming her kept other men from sniffing around, I was all for it.

But I was used to living under the island microscope.

Used to my family. Anya might need more time to adjust to the idea of us.

She hadn’t talked much about her family or her life before Friday Harbor. My protective instincts rose.

Drew: Yes, we kissed.

Drew: Don’t make a big deal about it. She’s a private person.

Gran: Then she should stop smooching you in front of cameras.

***

In the morning, I packed up my things and moved to Deb’s. The caretaker apartment at The Anchor was small, but it had all the basics: bedroom, bathroom with shower, and a tiny kitchenette. Better yet: no Gran. The private entrance meant I could come and go. It was nearly perfect, if not permanent.

I showered and shaved after finishing work, eager to pick up Anya for our dinner date.

Vi rolled her eyes when I knocked on the back door.

“Quit acting like you didn’t live here until this morning,” she admonished, letting me in.

“Hi, Drew.”

Anya said it almost shyly as she joined us in the living room on Friday night.

She’d swept her blonde hair up and back from her face, with a few soft tendrils left to flirt with her cheekbones.

Her bright red lip color emphasized the perfect bow of her mouth, distracting me from everything else.

I had the impression of a long floaty dress in a blue floral print, but all I could think about was her mouth. How much I wanted to kiss her.

Stunned, I paused a beat too long.

“If you tell her she looks good enough to eat, I’m disowning you,” my sister warned, breaking into my trance.

Anya smirked. “That’s okay, I’ll say it. You look good enough to eat.”

Vi groaned, shaking her head woefully. “Go. Get .”

Grinning wolfishly, I offered Anya my arm. “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?”

“Down to the waterfront, if that’s okay. I snagged a table at Nautilus.”

She looked up at me, eyes wide. “I’ve always wanted to eat there. I’ve heard it’s amazing, but they only have like two tables and one seating per night. How did you get in on such short notice?”

“Anthony owes me one. We loaned them capital to get the restaurant going last spring.”

Anya’s lips twitched. “Of course you did.”

It only took a few minutes to walk to the restaurant.

Nautilus was unassuming from the outside, a simple storefront with ample windows and heavy glass doors, but on the inside, the restaurant welcomed guests with tasteful greenery, big black columns, and a sleek black and chrome open kitchen.

Eight place settings rimmed the chef’s counter.

One large table and two smaller tables took up the rest of the tiny floor.

It looked like what it was – an exclusive enclave where the chef and waitstaff used phrases like “amuse-bouche” and “sous vide” as everyday conversation.

Anya’s eyes sparkled, her head swiveling as she took in every meticulous detail. The fresh bouquet of bright red poppies. The carefully folded black napkins.

Even the air smelled refined. I detected a hint of dill and capers.

Anthony welcomed us. The older man extended a broad grin to Anya as he pulled out her chair. “I’ve been hounding Drew to come visit us since we opened. I’m so glad you could pry him away from the farm for a night out.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. I’m dying to try your tasting menu.”

“You’re in for a treat.” Anthony collected our drink orders and scurried to the kitchen, returning with our wine glasses and first course. “Crab bisque with a compressed apple brown butter crumble.” He set the bowls down with a flourish.

Anya giggled. “What’s wrong, Drew?”

“I’m remembering why I haven’t been here before.”

“Too fancy?”

I smiled, just the barest twitch of my lips.

“It’s not that. I just needed the right person to enjoy it with.

” I tangled my fingers with hers on the white tablecloth.

“Can you imagine me bringing Gran?” I shook my head.

“I don’t think Anthony’s ego could take it.

She calls cilantro ‘frou-frou crap.’ Eating something with micro greens might send her to the great beyond. ”

“She’s one-of-a-kind. You know she’s trying to convince me to add a hot yoga class at the studio?”

“Really? That doesn’t sound like her.”

Anya’s eyes glittered with good humor. “I keep telling her I don’t have the equipment to heat the room up for it, and she keeps insisting the thermostat doesn’t have to go that high to get everyone naked.”

My shoulders shook. Newbie that I was, even I knew hot yoga didn’t mean clothing-optional.

“Your family is great. Even Gran. Are your parents enjoying their trip?”

Anya looked almost wistful as I spoke about my folks and their latest updates.

“What about your family? Are you close?”

Her eyes shadowed. “No.”

I wanted her to elaborate.

“What was it like, growing up as an only child?” I asked.

“Lonely. My parents were always working.”

Her tone was clipped. She was clearly uncomfortable.

Gone was the half-smile that always seemed to brighten her features.

The stubborn part of me wanted to dig deeper, but I’d intended tonight to be fun.

A chance to get to know each other without the pressure of living together.

Grilling her about her childhood was the opposite of that.

“If you’re not taking Gran up on her brilliant idea for nude hot yoga, do you have other promotional plans for the summer season?”

Anya lit up as she spoke about her ideas for a paddle board yoga class. “I just need a place to host it.”

“I can introduce you to Eric at the private marina off Wabass if you like.”

A tiny smile flirted with her lips. “Let me guess – he owes you a favor?”

“Maybe.”

As each course arrived, Anya relaxed more, letting me see the woman behind the relentless positivity. The beauty of Nautilus’s one-seating format was that we weren’t in a hurry. We talked about everything and nothing, from what it was like growing up on a tiny island to how she got into yoga.

I was careful not to ask too many questions about her life before San Juan Island. Every time I skirted a topic that hinted at her past, she tensed, a shadow falling across her features. She clearly wasn’t ready to talk about what really brought her to our island. And I chose not to push.

She shook her head ruefully, sipping on an after-dinner cappuccino. “I still can’t believe Gran helped you paper maché a shark fin so you could swim Eagle Cove and scare away all the tourists.”

“Honey, she didn’t just help. She planned the whole damn thing.

We wanted the beach to ourselves for once.

We were pretty easy to convince. Cole filmed and posted it.

” I winced, face contorting into an exaggerated grimace.

“Of course, then we learned she wanted everyone gone so she could go skinny-dipping and not get arrested. I’d pay to erase some of my family memories. ”

Anya’s shoulders shook with laughter, her eyes streaming with tears. “Every time I feel like I’ve got a handle on you and your family, I realize I’ve underestimated you all.”

I grinned, unrepentant. “We’re a rowdy bunch, but we grow on you.”

She toyed with the rim of her cup, her lashes sweeping down to hide her eyes from me, her lips pursing in a secretive smile. “Yeah, you do.” She smirked. “So… have you ever gone skinny-dipping?” Her gaze dropped to my chest, dragging down my body. Like she was most definitely imagining me naked.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tease her that I wasn’t a piece of meat.

But her admiring glance was enough to stop me.

I shifted in my chair, spreading my legs, brushing her knee under the table.

Something fired in her blue eyes, a flicker of heat.

I nudged her thigh gently again, turning it into a slow stroke, pleased when her thigh tilted closer to maintain contact.

“Have you?”

I blinked. What was her question?

“Gone naked?” she prompted.

“You bet.” My voice sounded like I’d scraped it from the bottom of a well. Trust Anya to reduce me to near incoherence with a simple question. I grabbed for my water, downing half the glass in a single swallow.

Her foot started a slow slide around my ankle. I slugged down more water. Walking out of the restaurant with a visible erection was sure to come up in the family group chat.

“You’ll have to show me where you go sometime.” Her grin was playful, soft color flowing into her cheeks. “It’s always been on my fucket list.”

I choked, coughing, as water cascaded down my windpipe. Hacking and struggling to breathe, I hunched over the table.

“Are you okay?” She stood to rub my back as I continued to fight for my life. And to my claim that I could be the tortoise. Anya at her most playful was deadly to my self-restraint.

I finally caught my breath, and she sat down.