Page 19

PROLOGUE

A year ago…

Trinity Stevenson stepped from behind the protective windshield. Her ponytail smacked her face. The wind howled and the seas kicked up angrily as if Poseidon himself was about to emerge from the depths of the ocean floor, waving his trident.

This storm had collided with another system, changed direction, and came at her so fast she barely had a chance to get her bearings. What started as a few hours alone to collect her thoughts, to decide if she would believe him—again—turned into a death grip on survival instincts.

She squinted… searching… scanning the wild waters for the green and red bow lights. Or white the stern light. There had been another boat out there. She’d seen it. And they were charging into the storm, being tossed around by the raging waves like a rag doll. She suspected the small fishing boat to be eighteen to twenty feet long. Way too small to be out here in these conditions. Heck, her forty-footer, while built for the ocean and could handle a good storm, struggled with waves this tall. But Trinity couldn’t, in good faith, just leave them out here to be swallowed by the sea gods.

Who was she kidding? She was about to be upside down if she didn’t point this vessel toward shore and head in soon. She blew out a puff of air, stared into the darkness, and waited for another flash from the heavens. All she needed was a few seconds of visibility. Something to give her a better gauge of where those red and green lights were bobbing up and down in the open waters.

Thankfully, those lights appeared through the wind, waves, and rain. It rolled down with a massive crest, before turning up toward the sky. Once again, she squinted, focusing solely on the small vessel, struggling to stay above water and losing the battle quickly.

She reached for the radio, glancing at the channel settings already set to sixteen. “Pan-Pan, Pan-Pan, Pan-Pan. This is Princess Afloat .”

Pushing down on the throttles, she cut through the top of a massive wave. Quickly, she eased up on the power of the engines, allowing the boat’s bow to rise, before giving it more gas to cut through another wave. Salt water splashed across the windshield. It sloshed over the top of the cuddy and landed right on her head. She wiped her face with her forearm and repeated the maneuver, ensuring her boat didn’t go sideways.

“This is the US Coast Guard. What’s your situation, Princess Afloat ?”

She rattled off where she believed she was because she couldn’t take her eyes off the waves before her to check the exact coordinates. But she knew these waters like she knew the back of her hand. She knew within a quarter of a mile how far offshore she was and in what direction. “There is a boat in trouble about a mile and a half from my location… Oh my God. No.” The vessel in question pitched sideways with the wave and rolled. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky. A clap of thunder that sounded more like gunfire rattled her teeth.

A second clap echoed in the night.

Followed by a… flash? Or a spark.

She swallowed her pulse.

“Ma’am. Are you okay?”

“Um, yes. I think so,” she managed. “There’s a second boat. No lights and the other one, it capsized and it’s… oh God. It’s sinking.”

“Ma’am. We’re four miles from your location. Flash your spotlight.”

She did as instructed.

“We can see you,” the man said. “Look to your port. You’ll see us.”

Bang!

“Oh my God.” She crouched behind the steering wheel but not too low. “The other boat fired a weapon,” she said as calmly as she could.

The vessel circled—danced—around where the white glow of a stern light disappeared into the dark ocean.

Pirates.

That was the only explanation.

Bang! Bang!

They must have seen the signal between her and the Coast Guard.

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

“Yes.” She sucked in a deep breath, staring at the white water being churned up by the boat heading right for her.

“Ma’am, can you maneuver and head toward the island barriers?” the gentleman on the other end asked. Another voice—a familiar one—muttered a few superlatives in the background.

“Yes. I can do that.”

“Trinity, get your ass back to the docks, now,” Dawson, the new chief of police, said with real bite laced to his words.

“What about the boat that sunk? I know what I saw.”

“You need to be more worried about the one headed in your direction that we need to deal with,” Dawson said. “Now head home.”

She glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t see anything but waves, rain, and lightning. She couldn’t hear anything but the howl of the wind. No boat chasing her. The only other vessel was the Coast Guard less than a mile away now, and racing toward the open ocean. She let out a huge breath. “Heading in.” She hooked the mic to the handle and stared at the roller cresting at the top. It wasn’t just any crest, either. It was the kind of wave that movies were made about. “Well, crap.” She hit the throttle, spun the wheel, and braced for impact.

Princess Afloat pitched starboard as a twelve-foot swell crashed into the hull awkwardly. Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, she pushed the throttle down harder because speed was her friend right now. Rollers, she could handle. Waves that turned into surf machines, well, she couldn’t risk going sideways. Her boat was too small for that, and she’d surely capsize.

Riding the wave wasn’t smart, either. She needed to get in front of it. But the swells were coming closer and faster. She would have to make sure she stayed between the waves as much as she could. Or get on top of one and ride down below before it crest. Not a fun drive.

A clap of thunder rattled the boat right before the evening sky lit up with five flashes of lightning. Normally, she loved a good lightning storm. That was when she was sitting on her front porch, watching the storm roll in from the comforts of home.

The wipers sloshed salty water across the windshield, but it did nothing to help with visibility. Flicking the spotlight on, she found the spot between the grouping of islands that led into Chokoloskee Bay from the north. She’d be protected from the massive waves once she was between the islands and the shoreline.

It was navigating through them, alone, in these conditions, that was the challenge.

She’d been a water baby her entire life. However, to most people of Calusa Cove, she was a spoiled rich girl with servants. It wasn’t a falsehood. She’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’d grown up eight miles from the center of town—in a mansion. The only one in the zip code.

Her mother never worked a day in her life, and that included housecleaning and cooking. They had a staff for that. They had a staff for everything.

Audra McCain once joked that she wouldn’t be surprised if Trinity had someone to wipe her ass. Trinity chuckled at the memory. Why did Audra, of all people, pop into her head at a time like this? She had no idea. She hadn’t heard of or seen Audra in sixteen years. She wondered what had happened to the local Stigini . Poor girl had also gotten the short end of the stick when it came to this town. Lucky her for getting out and staying out.

Trinity had her reasons for coming back two years ago. No one in this town knew. They suspected and some had the story half right.

A man did break her heart. Crushed it. Tore it from her chest and utterly destroyed it. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He took her dignity. Her self-worth. And he stripped her of her confidence.

But that was one of the best-kept secrets of Calusa Cove.

However, she had better understanding of her mother. Only, she hadn’t wanted to bond with her mom because of it. There was too much pain over her own childhood. She hadn’t even told her mother she’d been pregnant. That had been her father. She didn’t blame her dad. He’d done what any normal father would in this situation.

Hours after she miscarried, her mother had done the rarest thing. She’d called. She’d asked to visit and to comfort her in her time of need.

Her mom came to Calusa Cove for a whole week. It had been the worst week of Trinity’s life. Not just because she’d ended a relationship with an abusive man, but because she’d lost something she didn’t know she’d wanted.

A child.

Her mother had been a miserable woman—and everyone who had met her knew it. The good people of Calusa Cove watched her parents’ marriage dissolve. They knew about their loss. Everyone knew that her mother blamed her tragedy on Calusa Cove and they watched her pack her bags and leave the second Trinity graduated from high school. The ink on her diploma hadn’t even had the chance to dry before her mom had been on that plane.

Her mother had hated everything about Calusa Cove, and up until a few years ago, so did Trinity. Now, Calusa Cove offered her a sanctuary from her past pains and an opportunity to be the person she’d always wanted.

Another clap of thunder rattled her brain. The boat vibrated, starting at her toes and landing between her temples.

More lightning lit up the night skies. She was a little thankful for the few seconds of brightness guiding her home.

But the waves tossed her cruiser around like a freaking dingy.

Silas had warned her—more like sneered at her—that a storm was brewing. She’d checked all the weather apps and she knew the seas were ripe today. However, the open water gave her peace and tranquility and after the lunacy of her mother’s call this morning, she sure as heck needed it.

But Silas had pissed her off as well. Well, him and Dewey, the mangrove trimmer. Especially Dewey. He was always sitting down at the docks when he wasn’t working, staring at her, waiting for her to crash her shiny, expensive boat. He’d waggle his long, crooked finger at her, reminding her that she didn’t fit in and that she’d smash her boat one day.

There wasn’t a scratch on her baby because she was a darn good boat driver.

But people didn’t see her as Monty Stevenson’s daughter. The rising star who left on a full ride, started a medical-tech company, sold it for millions after he got burned out, and realized he missed small-town life.

Nope. They saw her as Porsche Stevenson’s kid. The one who brought sushi to school for lunch and, at one time, was just like her mother.

As the islands came into view, the waves crashed into them with unrelenting force. She swallowed her pounding pulse. This had to be the worst she’d ever driven in, and frankly, she didn’t ever want to do it again.

Easing up on the throttle, she made her way between two stretches of land. It was known as the Ten Thousand Islands. A chain of islands and mangrove islets that stretched from Cape Romano to Lostmans River. This area could be treacherous on a sunny day because of oyster bars and shallow waters. A captain needed to understand the tides and the area.

No matter what anyone said about her, she knew both. But that didn’t make this any less dangerous.

She made it through the first set of islands and eased back even more on the throttles, letting out a long sigh of relief. The waves had reduced to four to five, and she could see the inlet leading her to Mitchell's Marina.

Thank God.

No. Thank Poseidon.

But oh, she could hear the crap she was going to catch from Baily, the owner of the marina and now one of her best friends. That was one of the best things about returning to Calusa Cove. She’d never really had girlfriends before. She thought she did, but they had all turned out to be rich, prissy snots.

Kind of like she used to be.

She narrowed her gaze as she pulled down the narrow channel toward the dock she rented. A couple dozen people lined up. Some wore appropriate raingear, others making do with what was nearby, like garbage bags. Most people in Calusa Cove were dirt-poor and the town's population, at last count, was four hundred and twenty-eight.

Silas waved his fist in her direction as he raced across the edge of the shore and toward the docks with the new sexy Fish and Wildlife guy right on his heels.

Wonderful.

This was the last thing she needed. A lecture by one of Fletcher Dane’s friends and Silas, the resident grumpy old man who occasionally had a heart of gold if you took the time to get to know him.

She spun the boat, pulling in backward, as she always did. Mainly to show off. To prove she was a master at the helm. It was childish—she knew it—but she wanted respect.

Few gave it to her.

Raindrops the size of mosquitoes pelleted her eyes. As quickly as she could, she tossed the stern line to Silas.

Keaton Cole managed to snag the bowline before she could make her way to the front of her vessel.

“I warned you,” Silas said, taking her hand. “Why didn’t you come in sooner?”

“Because someone needed help,” she managed above the roar of the wind whipping and swirling through the marina. The palm trees bent over. “I tried to help, but I couldn’t get to them. Pirates did and unfortunately, they sank.” She steadied her bare feet on the dock, holding her wedges in her other hand. “I radioed the Coast Guard. And before both of you lay into me, I already got barked at by Dawson and ordered back to the docks.”

“Not sure what to think of that man.” Silas shook his head. “You’re crazy, you know that? You had us all worried. I was sitting here enjoying a beer and watching those two systems collide, but there was no Trinity. I stood out there for over an hour while I watched that storm turn into a nightmare and no Trinity. Waves like that will take even a boat your size.”

“I’m well aware of what the sea can do.” She blinked. “Are all the boats from this marina back? Do we have any idea who could’ve sank out there?”

“You were the only one we’ve been waiting on,” Silas said.

She shifted her gaze toward Keaton, who had served in the Navy with Dawson Ridge, the new chief. “Why was Dawson with the Coast Guard?”

Keaton arched a brow. “He asked if he could because that’s what he does when one of his townspeople didn’t come in and there were reports of pirates in the area.”

“Oh.” Wonderful. Here came another flipping lecture.

Keaton jerked his head toward the main building. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up. You looked like a drowned rat.”

“Gee, thanks. Just want a girl wants to hear.” She figured she had mascara running down her cheeks. Some habits died hard, and she was still a vain woman, even if she wasn’t trying to impress a man. At least not this man.

She had a man. It was a new relationship. They’d only been dating for two months and she thought Fenton would be different.

Well, at first he had been. And he didn’t bark at her like Keaton did.

While Fenton worked at one of her father’s many car dealerships, he didn’t see her for her bank account. Fenton made good money. Perhaps not the kind she’d been born and raised with, but enough to shower her with some very nice gifts.

Though, not too many. He was a man who believed everyone should live within their own means, which sometimes caused a few interesting discussions. She made good money as a data scientist, a career that allowed her to work from home and live anywhere. But again, old habits died hard and she wasn’t about to give up the things she enjoyed.

Shoes, handbags, and designer clothes.

She no longer paid full price because that was just stupid. She didn’t have to have top-of-the-line everything. Nor did she have to have… everything. But yeah, she liked her BMW.

To say she lived within her means was a bit of a stretch. Daddy bought her boat, so there was that. She understood this made it harder for her to get the one thing she wanted more than anything—respect from the people of Calusa Cove. She did want them to see her in a different light.

Fenton didn’t seem to care about her princess status or her father’s money. But earlier today, she’d picked up his cell and found a weird text on it. It was from someone named Al. Just Al. At first, she didn’t think anything of it, but when it dinged in her hand and a second text came over that was sexual in nature, her heart stopped.

Fenton got defensive at first. But he softened, saying it was just some guy he knew being a dick.

She struggled to believe it, though she wanted to and it was why she’d gone for a late-night boat ride when she hadn’t planned on it.

Keaton pressed his hand on the small of her back.

Her body responded and that annoyed her on more than one level. “I have a boyfriend.” She wasn’t sure if that was for her benefit or for Keaton’s.

“I’m well aware. His name is Fenton. He drives a flashy Range Rover.” Keaton did not remove his hand. “Only he doesn’t deserve you and he doesn’t come around much.”

“He works a lot.” She glanced over her shoulder. Silas turned and headed toward the parking lot. The gathering of people had dissipated, but not without muttering a few nasty little whispers. This town always had to have something to gossip about.

Lately, it was her.

The hum of car engines filled the air as vehicles pulled out into the street.

“While it was mighty nice of you to try to help whoever’s out there, you should have just radioed and come in.” Keaton nudged her closer to the main building. “I heard they fired a few shots at you.”

The front door opened and Baily stood in the entrance, holding a tall mug of something.

“Not sure it was at me,” she mumbled. “And I didn’t even see the pirate boat at first. Once I did, I had no intention of staying out there. Once I got ahold of the Coast Guard, and they were on the way, I turned around and came home.”

“It’s the part where you stayed until you saw the Coast Guard, even though you were in danger, that concerns me.” He stepped aside, letting her enter the marina first.

“Oh my God. You do not listen. I didn’t know I was in danger at first. Once I did, I turned around. I’m not stupid.” She took the mug of steaming coffee that Baily offered and smiled. “Thanks. I really need this.”

“I put a shot of something else in, too,” Baily said with a sweet smile, which quickly turned into a frown as she suspiciously eyed Keaton.

Trinity knew the history. They’d spoken of it—though not at great lengths—and while she more than understood why Baily felt the way she did about Fletcher, his friends, and what that meant, she didn’t agree.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of that,” Keaton said. “Especially when chatting with this one is like talking to a brick wall.” He lowered his chin. “You were in danger the second those storms collided.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bully?” Trinity asked.

“You. Every time we find ourselves in a discussion.” He pointed toward the far counter. “Coffee?” he asked Baily.

“You can help yourself.” Baily glared. “Feel free to make a donation to the coffee fund.”

“As if I’d take a free one.” Keaton shook out his coat, stomped his muddy boots, and strode past.

When it came to the Baily and the guys, Trinity bit her tongue. This wasn’t her battle. She had her own problems—not that she’d shared them with anyone. Not even Baily. It wasn’t about the shame. Not anymore. It was about taking back control. Being in charge of her own destiny.

The radio behind the counter crackled to life.

She and Baily raced to it, staring at it as if it yielded great power.

Dawson had only been chief for a few weeks. But he’d been one of Ken’s best friends. It didn’t matter if she wanted to blame Ken’s military brothers for his death—she did have a heart, and no one wanted to see a storm take one of Calusa Cove’s finest.

“Lost visual of pirate ship. No visual of wreckage at sea, halting search,” a male voice boomed over the radio. “Heading back to port.”

“This is heartbreaking,” Trinity whispered. “I feel so bad for whoever was out there.”

A strong hand came down on her shoulder.

She flinched.

“That could have been you.” Keaton’s hot breath tickled her neck. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again.”

She whipped her head around. “Excuse me?”

He stared deep into her eyes. A hint of anger was etched into his dark brown irises. “Dawson went out there with the Coast Guard to look for you. We were all worried that something happened to you .” Keaton exhaled through his nose and a second later, he inhaled sharply. She hadn’t known him all that long, but she didn’t have to. From the moment they’d met, they’d been like oil drizzled on top of water with a lit match dropped on top.

The instant heat—instant attraction—had been palpable. And she knew it hadn’t been one-sided. No. He looked her over like a tongue licking a Popsicle on a hot summer day. They had stared each other down like a couple of sex-starved teenagers. Then one of them opened their mouths and the next thing she knew, they were fighting.

Every day it was the same. She did something that he found offensive. Reckless. And he was overbearing and opinionated.

It didn’t matter that he was sexy as hell. He drove her crazy.

Besides, she had a boyfriend, something she constantly forgot about whenever she was in Keaton’s presence.

She pursed her lips. “If I needed help, I would have radioed. I’m not stupid.”

He cocked his head. “But you didn’t think to radio anyone to tell them you were safe. What you were doing. Or that you were helping someone or even heading in until after you’d been in that storm for a good forty minutes to an hour.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Do you think those people were standing out there to watch you back your pretty toy into the dock? No. They were worried something bad happened to you. We all were. I would have hated to have to call that boyfriend of yours to tell him you’d been lost at sea.” He turned on his heel and marched his sexy ass right out the door.

“Jeez, that was totally unnecessary,” she mumbled.

“I can’t believe I’m going to side with him, but no, it wasn’t.” Baily sighed and leaned across the counter, taking Trinity’s hand. “I tried to radio you. But you never answered.”

“Crap. I put it to sixteen when the storm hit and the reception was spotty anyway with all that rain and wind. Why didn’t you try me on?—”

“That’s for emergencies. Two is what we use for marina chatter. You know that.”

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry, Baily. It won’t ever happen again. I swear.” The old Trinity would have gotten her panties in a twist and huffed out. But not the new and improved Trinity. No, this version valued and respected her friends and their feelings.

She could admit when she was wrong.

And this time, she could have been dead wrong.

* * *

Trinity raced out her front door and flew down the porch steps, flinging herself at Mallary. She pulled her friend into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I’m so sorry, Mallary.” Tears poured out of her eyes. “If I had known that was Jared out there, I would have…” A guttural sob filled her throat, choking off the rest of her… what words? There were no words to express the horrible guilt and the terrible sadness that swirled around in Trinity’s soul.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Mallary whispered. Her shoulders bobbed up and down. Her body grew heavy as she collapsed to the steps.

Trinity sank with her friend, clinging to her, wishing she could take away all the pain, but not even time would do that. She cradled Mallary in her arms, stroking her hair, letting her friend purge all the emotions. No amount of caring and kind words would ever make this okay.

She stared out over the ocean. Barely a ripple on the water as the calm seas gently lapped against the shore. Not a single cloud in the sky as the bright sunrays stretched its long fingers, warming her skin. She blinked. So many questions that might never be answered.

But Trinity knew what she saw… a boat lost to the sea.

She was told that Keaton, Dawson, Hayes, and Fletcher had volunteered to scuba dive in the area where the vessel may have gone down—but no one was sure of the exact location. They were trained Navy SEALs. If anyone could find the boat—and Jared—it would be those four men. She glanced at her watch. They would already be a hundred feet down by now.

But Trinity, a certified deep scuba diver herself, knew how hard that would be. She knew how deep those waters could be. How the currents and the wind from the storm could have taken Jared’s body farther out to sea. It might be a futile attempt. Even the boat could have twisted, turned, and landed in a very different location. However, she was grateful they were good enough men to go out there and try.

That included Keaton.

No matter how much they clashed, she couldn’t rid herself of the attraction. And she tried.

“I don’t understand why my brother was out there alone. He said he was taking his new friends. I hate those guys. Especially that Ralph idiot. He’s bad news.” Mallary pushed from Trinity’s embrace.

Trinity had never met Ralph or his friends. But she’d heard all about them from Mallary and how Mallary believed them to be a bad influence on her little brother. How they were using Jared and his kindness. His generosity and his desire to be liked and accepted by his peers was something Trinity understood all too well.

“I know taking a gap year isn’t a bad thing,” Mallary said, swiping her cheeks. “Jared wanted to stay and work with our dad. He loved fishing. They talked about taking over Daddy’s business all the time. He thought he should spend a year seeing how things were done in all facets of the charter business before spending four years in business school. I supported that idea. I mean, I took a gap year, and it was the best decision I ever made.” Mallary spoke so fast, it was amazing she managed to choke up a few sobs. “His mother hated everything about that idea. She bragged about how she finished her four-year degree in three and a half years and had just turned twenty-one. Of course, I reminded her that she ended up pregnant by a man twice her age. I know my dad loves her, though I can’t fathom why. She’s a brainless twit and not half the woman my mother was. I’m not bitter, but I miss my mother so much right now. Her death was so pointless and I don’t understand it. She had so much to live for.”

“I know. I know.” Trinity had met Mallary years after her mother had died by suicide. She swallowed a bunch of pills that no one had known she’d been taking for anxiety and depression. Not even Mallary’s father. It had all been a shock, and Mallary had been so close to her mom. She shared pictures of them going to get their hair and nails done—always with big, bright smiles.

“I wanted to like my stepmom, but she tried too hard to be my mother. It was gross.” Mallary sniffled. She tilted her head and smiled. “I did, however, adore my half brother. He was sweet and pure and didn’t deserve to be lost at sea. Do you think he still be alive?”

What a loaded question. There was always the possibility. Stranger things had happened. But she didn’t want to give her friend false hope, especially since that storm had rumbled on till four in the morning, twisting and turning the ocean with waves uncharacteristic for this time of year. Trinity looped her arm around one of the few true friends she’d managed to make—and maintain—from her years at university. She held Mallary’s gaze.

“I know it’s crazy to hope for a miracle, but I reached out to an old charter buddy friend of my dad’s and he said he’s heard of people being found days after their boat went under.”

“No, it’s not crazy. If I had a brother, I’d be doing the same thing and Jared was a good captain. He would have done all the right things.”

“Only you watched his boat capsize.” Mallary sighed.

“We don’t know it was his vessel,” Trinity said. “There are two other missing boats from nearby coastal towns. It could have been one of them.”

“But you told me you witnessed a boat go down. One that looked similar in size. You also said there was a possible pirate ship in the area.” Mallary hiccupped. “You heard gunshots. The Coast Guard said all the same things and my brother never came home. Why? Why my brother?” Mallary shot her hand up. “That was a rhetorical question. I’m not expecting an answer.”

“Do you have any idea what he was doing or why his friends didn’t go with him?”

“All I know is my dad said Jared asked if he could use one of the charter boats to go fishing with his friends. My dad reminded him that a storm was brewing off the coast and to be mindful of the weather. He never worried about Jared on the water.” Mallary shook her head. “He trained us both to handle ourselves out there. The lessons were sometimes tough, but Jared really knew what he was doing. He loved the ocean so much than I ever did. I could take it or leave it. Growing up, we used to call Jared baby Aquaman. If there was rough weather coming, Jared would have come in. He didn’t take chances. He knew how devastating the sea could be.”

“I can tell you it was bad out there and Jared’s little fishing boat could easily capsize.”

“You’re not helping.” Mallary glared, blowing out a puff of air. “Bethany babied that poor kid. She wanted him to be an overachieving pencil pushing nerd—sometimes I swear she wanted him to take over that flower shop, as if that were a place for Jared.”

“I’m not saying this for any other reason than flowers could have gotten him laid,” Trinity said, desperately needing to lighten the mood. She pushed down her aversion to the concept of receiving such a thoughtful gift, reminding herself that somewhere, there was a man who presented a woman with flowers for no other reason than that he cared.

Mallary dropped her head back and burst out laughing. “At least I can be happy he got to experience sex before he died.”

“No. Seriously?” Trinity jerked her head. “Little Jared? With who?”

“This marina babe. A girl by the name of Valerie. A real looker too.” Mallary heaved in a breath and let it out with a big woosh. “I miss him so much already. When I was his age and my friends would all complain about their pain-in-the-ass little siblings, I didn’t understand. He was just a baby back then and I couldn’t get enough of him.”

“I remember when we met in college. I first thought you were a teenage mom.”

“I thought of myself that way with him,” Mallary whispered. “What am I going to do? My dad is dealing with so much because Bethany has completely lost her shit. The worst part is she’s blaming me—and my dad—for what happened. As if we told him to go out there…alone. Now everyone believes he might have had something to do with the jewels stolen from Ralph’s parents.”

“I heard that.” Trinity nodded. “Dawson, you met him, the new chief of police of Calusa Cove. I overheard him telling his buddies that they believe either pirates heard Jared must have had the jewels from the Flying Victoria or that he was meeting pirates out there to sell them.”

“That’s utter crap. My little brother would never.” Mallary’s face hardened. She stared at Trinity with daggers shooting from her unwavering gaze. “I bet it was Ralph who stole that jewelry. That kid is a no-good little twit. But it still doesn’t explain why Jared went out there alone, and my ugly stepmother will never forgive either me or my dad.”

“Oh my God. That’s so unfair. Neither of you were even out there.”

“Doesn’t matter. My dad handed him the keys, and once again, I took my dad’s side. She’s always feeling ganged up on by us. It’s my fault he deferred college for a year, and now she’s going to blame his death on me for as long as she has breath in her lungs.”

Trinity understood a little something about blame. Totally different situations, and she wouldn’t compare. Not out loud. But her mother blamed her very existence for her misery. If Trinity hadn’t been born, her father might have never thought to move back to Calusa Cove. He would have never wanted to share this part of his life with his precious daughter. To show her something other than the station to which she’d been born.

And Porsche would have never lost their second child.

“Right now, all you can do is allow yourself to grieve. You have to do that. You have to let the emotions in—and out. Don’t fight it. Plus, your dad is going to need you. His heart is breaking just like yours. So is Bethany’s, even if she doesn’t empathize with anyone other than herself. Remember, I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

“My dad wants to have a memorial. I think it’s too soon, but I won’t argue with him. He asked me to help him plan the memorial. You know how much I hate things like that.”

Oh boy, did Trinity know that. When they’d been in college, a friend—not a close one—but someone who lived in their dorms had died in a horrible accident. They had all been drinking that night, but Amber had been a hot mess. They all drew straws, and Mallary got the short one. But when she went to go collect Amber, she’d disappeared. They all searched for her for over an hour. No one could find her. The next day, the police found her body. She’d stumbled into someone’s backyard and fell into their pool. They’d all been utterly heartbroken.

“My dad also wants me to speak at this…thing… He believes Jared would have wanted me to, but I haven’t a clue as to what to say.”

Trinity squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Ditto.” Trinity’s phone vibrated. Quickly, she pulled it from her pocket and glanced at the text. She’d ignored Fenton since their fight yesterday, other than to let him know she was fine. That she’d made it in safely. She’d neglected to tell him anything about her adventure at sea. He’d learn about it soon enough.

Though, it appeared by his worried text, he might have already been told.

She frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Mallary asked.

“Nothing.” Trinity tucked her cell back in her pocket. She’d deal with Fenton later.

“Come on. I need something to distract myself from what’s happening. My brain can’t stop going back out there.” Mallary pointed to the open ocean.

Trinity sighed. While Mallary could be high maintenance as friends went, and she wasn’t always there when Trinity needed her most, she was a good person. She was kind and decent, and if she needed a distraction, Trinity could give her that. “It’s Fenton. We got into a fight yesterday. It’s why I went out on the boat instead of going out with him.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Mallary brushed her hair from her face. “What happened?”

“I saw a text. He says it was from some dude, but the words on the screen screamed some girl he was sexting with. Not some random old buddy sending him sex jokes. I’m not stupid. It was dirty talk, and I can’t do another cheating man again.”

“Seriously?” Mallary jerked her head back. “Fenton? No way. That man adores you. Worships the ground you walk on. I can’t believe he’d be chatting with another chick. He wouldn’t do that. No way. You totally misinterpreted that text.”

Trinity wanted to believe that. She really liked Fenton. He was normal, if there was such a thing. He wasn’t needy. He didn’t demand all her time. The only thing he did was occasionally get jealous.

Of Keaton.

Granted, she did find Keaton sexy as hell—in the looks department. But his personality was sometimes a little too rough around the edges—at least toward her.

“I don’t think so,” Trinity admitted. “And this isn’t the first red flag.” Only, this was the first time she was talking about it with anyone.

“What do you mean?” Mallary crinkled her nose.

“I found an earring in his car a week ago.”

“What did he say about it?” Mallary’s eyes went wide. She swiped at her cheeks.

“He told me he let one of the girls in the office take his car to get lunch.”

“Well, there you have it.” Mallary lowered her chin. “I get you’re wounded. I know you have some trust issues. I would too. But come on. Fenton is a keeper. He’s supersweet. He’s kind, and generous, and he’s good to you. He wouldn’t cheat. He’s so not the type.”

He was a man. He had a dick. That made him the type in Trinity’s book. But she wasn’t about to argue with Mallary. That woman thought Fenton was the perfect man—for Trinity.

For a hot minute, so did Trinity, but she wasn’t so sure now.

“Call him back.” Mallary nudged her. “Make up with him. Life is too short.”

Jeez. How could she argue with that?

So, Trinity yanked out her phone and texted Fenton, letting him know she’d meet him later.

Maybe her friend was right. Maybe she was reading too much into all this.