McKenzie wasn’t one for taking hints, though. In fact, it seemed his disinterest in her only made him more appealing. She spotted him and waved. She might’ve even squealed—it was too loud to tell for sure. She hopped off her barstool and sashayed toward him.
She was beautiful, he supposed. He’d overheard some of the guys talking about her, but until this moment, he hadn’t really paid attention.
“Good evening, XPO Boggs. Fancy meeting you here.” She was standing so close to him, he could smell her shampoo. Flowers. He liked the way Louisa smelled better.
“Just came in for a burger,” he said dumbly.
She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come sit with us. I’ve got a great spot.” She pointed a finger toward the bar where she’d been sitting. “Plus, everyone is always trying to impress me, so I can get your food really fast.” She laughed.
He allowed himself to be led over to the bar and then sat next to McKenzie and her friend, a dark-headed girl with teeth so white he wondered if they were painted.
“This is Giselle,” McKenzie said. “She helps with my blog.”
Cody extended a hand toward the other girl. She picked it up and studied it as if he’d just handed her a clay pot. “Nice hands.” She grinned. “You’re hot.”
He put Giselle around age twenty-three. It was amazing how a few years could widen the gap between people.
“Derek, can you get my friend a burger with the works?” McKenzie fluttered her lashes and flashed a smile toward the bartender, who shot Cody a look.
“To go,” Cody said.
The man disappeared through a door, and Cody turned to find McKenzie pouting. “You’re not going to stay with us?”
“Sorry; I’ve got to get up early.” To see Louisa.
“I never get up early,” McKenzie said. “It’s against my religion.”
“You should try it,” Cody said. “I never miss a sunrise if I can help it.”
“No way.” Giselle slammed her glass on the bar. “Mack and I are creatures of the night.”
Both women laughed.
“I could come home with you,” McKenzie offered. “Keep you company. You could show me what’s so great about the sunrise.”
Her hand was on Cody’s leg.
He inched back. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I actually have to sleep.”
“Sleep is overrated.” Her eyes said what her mouth didn’t. Her hand squeezed his leg.
“Not when you have a 5 a.m. training session.”
“Training? Like, for the regatta?” McKenzie laughed. “Like you’re ever going to get Louisa to do anything useful in that boat.”
He looked away.
“You should’ve figured out a way to let me win you,” she said. “I actually know what I’m doing. And I don’t just mean on the boat.”
Charlie Pope appeared beside them. “Hey, hey, what’s up, guys? Hey, cap, how good of you to grace us with your presence this fine evening.”
Charlie Pope was drunk.
“I take it you guys aren’t training at 5 a.m.?” Cody asked McKenzie, who had won Charlie at the auction for a lot less money than she’d bid on Cody.
“No.” McKenzie grinned. “We have a much looser philosophy about the race.”
“Yeah, we don’t care if we win.” Charlie wrapped an arm around McKenzie’s shoulder. “The real prize will be seeing you in a bathing suit.”
McKenzie laughed. “In your dreams, buddy.”
“Let’s dance!” Giselle stood, and Cody caught sight of a butterfly tattoo on her back, just above her belt. Her eyes flashed as she looked at Charlie, who might as well have been a rabid dog. He followed her off, and McKenzie stood, then leaned in close to Cody.
“Do you really have to leave? Just stay for one dance.”
Cody almost turned her down. But he couldn’t keep himself locked away forever. Besides, there were no emotions attached to anyone in that bar. No risk of losing control or acting foolishly.
McKenzie picked up a bottle of beer and stuck it in Cody’s hand. He set it back on the counter.
“Come on, you.” She smiled and sauntered off toward the dance floor—and like an idiot, or like a man desperate to forget about life for a while, he followed.
CHAPTER THIRTY
LOUISA KNEW THE EARLY MORNING TRAINING SESSIONS WEREN’T DATES. She knew that, and yet she prepared for them as if they were.
Because the regatta was technically Coast Guard business, Duncan gave the guys a bit of leeway so they could spend time training with their sailing partners, which meant that Louisa was spending every morning with a very off-limits man who happened to be excellent at sailing and saving lives.
And probably kissing. She bet he was still excellent at kissing.
It had been about a week since they’d found the strange bank statements, and Maggie had been absolutely no help in clarifying anything. The day after they’d unsuccessfully tried to wake her, Louisa had shown the old woman what they’d found, but Maggie’s face was as blank as the day she was born.
“I have people who handle all that for me, dear,” she’d said.
“My father?”
“Used to be. Then he turned me over to some other guy.”
Louisa showed her the first statement after the odd sum showed up in the account. “Around this time?”
Maggie shuffled across the kitchen. She was wearing polyester pants and white tennis shoes, along with a floral button-down top. She danced a little as she walked, which she did often—she said she was moving to the music in her mind.
Maggie hummed. “No idea when.” Then she frowned. “Actually, it wasn’t long after Daniel died. Or maybe before? I don’t know; the details are foggy. I’m old.”
“Why would my father give your portfolio to someone else?” Louisa asked as Maggie filled a bowl with Lucky Charms. “You know those are bad for you, right?”
“I’m so glad the food police have joined me for breakfast,” Maggie quipped.
“I’m just saying,” Louisa said innocently.
“Well, in case you were wondering, I’ve entered the I’ll-eat-whatever-the-heck-I-want phase of my life,” she said. “It’s not like this is what’s going to kill me.” She laughed.
Louisa understood that this was Maggie’s way of coping with her diagnosis, but sometimes the weight of it was too heavy for jokes. It wasn’t lost on her that Maggie’s death would be pretty devastating.
Maggie shook the box of cereal at Louisa. “If I remember right, these are your favorite?”
Louisa eyed the box. “They were my favorite. When I was ten.”
Maggie scoffed. “If it were my dying wish to share a bowl of Lucky Charms with you, would you really turn me down?”
Louisa leaned against the doorjamb. “Is that your dying wish?”
Maggie shoveled a bite into her mouth. “One bowl won’t kill ya.”
Finally Louisa snatched the box, took a bowl from the cupboard, and poured the cereal in. She turned and found Maggie holding out the jug of milk.
Louisa poured it over the marshmallow-dotted cereal and took a bite, aware that Maggie watched her with a bit too much interest.