Page 89 of Rockstar Baby

“What? That I had a little spring fun with a guy? Like you’re a monk. Though I’m not sure that’s far off. All you do is work.”

At least Serafina hadn’t been around. Nor had he mentioned her. She was an okay girl, but I had a feeling he could do better.

He was my big brother, so of course he could.

“You should talk.”

“Considering I’m getting your help tomorrow, I will own up to my workaholic tendencies. However, Macy wants to try my ice cream. Eeep.”

August’s eyes went wide, then he hauled me in for a hug. “That’s awesome.”

I patted his arm, but relaxed into him. The familiar scent of fresh wood mixed with rain made me hold onto him a little longer. “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”

“Make sure you bring her some of that toffee coffee stuff.”

I stepped back. “Oh, sure. Bring my coffee ice cream to the coffee queen of the Cove.”

“Helluva introduction. Especially if you use her coffee.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Sneaky. I like it.”

“Oh, we’ll have to do the truck another day.” I bit my lip. “I’m not sure how long my meeting will be.”

“No big deal. I’m always here for you, sis.”

“I know.” Far more than anyone else in my life. August never let me down. I waved the umbrella. “I better get out there before she drowns.”

He frowned as he craned his neck to look outside. “Yeah, you better.”

Yeah, he was being super weird. I rushed outside and caught Kinleigh under the awning, gnawing on her thumbnail.

“Yo, Scott.”

Kinleigh turned and caught the umbrella I tossed her. “Who’d you steal this from?”

“My brother.”

She clicked the button and the bright yellow umbrella popped open with my brother’s logo on it. She rolled her eyes, but held it over her head.

“You’re just mad because you didn’t think to put your logo on one.”

“I’d have to have a cute vintage parasol and it wouldn’t be cost effective. Although…”

“Oh, here we go.”

“I can’t help it if I have a marketing brain that won’t turn off. But seriously, I can look for old umbrellas and put my logo on it—you know, those iron-on vinyl kind? Or,” she snapped her fingers, “I can make a vinyl for the handle, that way it’s the first thing they see when they grab the umbrella. Thought the parasol part would be free advertising. I’ll have to think about it.”

I just let her babble on because that was Kinleigh. She was born a boss babe. She’d been creating small businesses since I’d met her. She was forever bugging my brother to make her signs—which he did, because it was easier to let her steamroll us than to fight storm Kinleigh.

My phone buzzed with an alert. I glanced at the screen and quickly stuffed it back in my pocket. I wasn’t proud of the fact that I followed Rory on every one of his social platforms, but I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t like he was mentioned often, but I had his Instagram on notification status.

Rory Ferguson. Producer, musician, word doctor.

Even his bio was light on info.

Nothing personal.

No, I wasn’t going to look. Later, when I was alone, I’d pore over whatever picture he’d decided to post. And okay, so maybe I’d make sure he wasn’t on my coast. Just in case.