Cash disappears up the stairs, and a moment later, Irene comes down. Her hair is out of its braid, wavy over her shoulders. She’s wearing gym shorts and a gray Iowa Hawkeyes T-shirt. Huck feels himself trembling.

“I owe you an apology, AC,” he says.

Irene points at the door. “Let’s go outside.”

This is a good sign, he thinks. He holds the door open for her and she heads out to the railing at the edge of the deck, where they can look out over the water. The pool is gurgling to their right and glowing an ethereal blue.

“Maia is okay?” she asks.

“She was at the beach with her friends,” Huck says. “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“It was understandable,” Irene says. “She’s your girl.”

“That she is,” Huck says. “I vowed she would be my first and only priority. I can’t let anything happen to her.”

“She’s lucky to have you,” Irene says.

Huck throws caution to the wind and gathers Irene up in his arms. She allows this, but he can feel tension in her body.

“What’s wrong?” he says.

“The other night was magical…” Irene says.

Huck loosens his hold on her. “But?”

“Meeting you, becoming friends with you, has been nothing short of miraculous. That first day of fishing…it saved me.”

And me, he thinks.

“I love working on the boat. Not just because I like the work but because I enjoy your company—”

“Did I mess things up by kissing you?” he asks. Meeting him was miraculous, he saved her, she enjoys his company…but that doesn’t mean she feels romantic about him.

“Yes and no,” Irene says. Without warning, tears pool in her eyes. “When we kissed…I never thought I’d feel that way again.” She sniffs. “There’s a way in which I’ve never felt that way before, ever.”

“That’s good, right?” Huck says.

“It’s too soon, Huck,” she says. “This whole situation is still so fresh. I know you don’t think we need to worry about the authorities hauling us off to jail like they did the Vickerses, but I do anyway.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Huck says. “I care for you.”

Irene reaches up to touch his face. “And I care for you. But I need more time. I just…I need time.” She rests her hand on the side of his neck. “I want you to promise you won’t give up on me.”

Huck isn’t sure he can speak. He’s disappointed. Crushed. Can she not feel the chemistry here? The love? He’s not sure how he’ll be able to hold himself in check. And yet he’s also relieved. Irene is nothing if not a woman of her word. She does have feelings for him. She’s not ready. Is Huck going to give up on her? Hell no.

“You have my word, AC,” he says.

She pulls him close and rests her head on his chest for a moment. “We have an early day tomorrow,” she says.

“You’re right,” he says. “I should go.” It’s difficult, but he releases her. “See you tomorrow, AC.” He strides across the deck without looking back, but he hopes it’s like the movies and Irene is staring after him with longing, telling herself she’s made a mistake, that she is in love with Huck and should chase after him and let him know.

Huck is halfway down the stairs when he sees a pair of headlights winding up the hill toward the villa. Then he sees another pair, and another and another. Four vehicles are winding their way up Lovers Lane.

Baker

On Tuesday, he calls an emergency breakfast meeting at Snooze. Once his friends are assembled and they all have coffee—he can’t expect them to provide any kind of decent advice without coffee—Baker passes around his phone.

On the screen is a picture of Mick on one knee, proposing to Ayers, with Cash’s text: She said yes, dude. Sorry.

Debbie says, “Wow, she’s hot. I know you said she was hot, but…wow.”

“Wow,” Wendy echoes when she gets the phone. “Debbie’s right.”

“That’s not helpful,” Baker says morosely.

“Can we talk about the manipulative nature of public proposals in general?” Ellen says. “Why do people do it?”

“Insecurity?” Becky says. “Fear? Or is it the opposite—hubris.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Wendy says. “And fearless. Don’t you think it takes courage?”

“You’re off topic,” Baker says. “I’m now moving myself and my four-year-old son down to a remote Caribbean island for a woman who just agreed to marry someone else.”

“This is Mick, right?” Ellen says. “The guy who cheated on her?”

“Yes.”

“Ew,” Debbie says.

“He’s not bad-looking,” Wendy says. “But he’s not you.”

“Cool dog,” Becky says. “Is that Mick’s dog? Or Ayers’s dog?”

“Mick’s,” Baker says. “He has a cool dog but I have a cool kid.”

“That’s a pizza boat in the background?” Ellen says. She looks at the others. “A pizza boat! We need to plan a trip to St. John.”

“We’ll come visit you,” Debbie says. “The villa has room, right?”

“Nine bedrooms,” Baker says. “But again, off topic. Should I even go? Or should I stay here?”

“Wearing my human-resources hat, here’s what I think,” Becky says. “I like this move for you. It’s not necessarily permanent. You go down there, you coach at the school, you get Floyd situated. He’s a bright, perceptive, resilient kid and he’s a sponge. I think it’ll be good for both of you to live somewhere else for a while. You’re renting your house, not selling it, so you can always come back. Think of it as a sabbatical of sorts. And then if Ayers sees the light and you two get together, you can make it more permanent.”

The other women nod their heads.

“What did I tell you before?” Ellen says. “You won’t hit the ball if you don’t swing.”

 

Baker appreciates his friends’ advice, but there’s no way he’s making such a huge leap of faith without talking to Ayers.

But first, Baker tries Cash. He would like some intel. Has his brother talked to Ayers about the engagement? What does he know? Cash doesn’t answer his phone; either he’s very busy or he doesn’t want to get involved. Baker assumes it’s the latter, but why did he send the photo, then? To be informative or to be a jerk?

Baker tries Ayers on Tuesday evening, a full twenty-four hours after he received the photo. It doesn’t seem quite as horrific now that some time has passed. Engagements get broken every day, right?

She doesn’t answer either, which could be a bad sign—she’s with Mick, she’s finished with Baker, she wants him to go away—in which case, Baker will just stay in Houston.

He doesn’t leave a voicemail—no one ever listens to them—but he does shoot her a text. Any chance I can talk to you tonight?

A little while later, there’s a response. I’m at work. I’ll call on my way home.