He’s your boss, Larkin.
Your BOSS.
It doesn’t matter that he looks like the modern-day version of Prince Eric but with silver eyes that pierce right through your soul every time you look at him.
It doesn’t matter that he’s incredibly smart, ambitious, and driven, unlike anyone you have ever met.
And it certainly doesn’t matter that he is one of the nicest, most considerate men you have ever met.
He is your boss and that’s it. The man who signs your paychecks. The man who gave you a chance at working for him when you had no experience, just a story about how Watchful Wanderers was the last remaining connection you had to your deceased father.
“Hey,” Ford says, slowing his jog until he’s only a few feet away. “I was wondering if I’d find you out here, since you never returned to the inn.”
“Sorry. I’ll make up some work later tonight. I was just enjoying a little bit of time with the waves.”
He nods, and his understanding shines through. “No need to make up any time. I asked you to come to Marina Island, so take all the time you need. I know what it means to you to be here.”
See . . . considerate.
Good looking.
Sweet.
Charming.
It’s honestly quite devastating.
And he gets me.
We lost Mom when I was in middle school. Dad was our rock. He made sure we were going to be okay. Beau and I both clung to him for support. And even with Dad’s busy schedule as a plumber on the island, he always made time for us. Every weekend we were doing something outdoors, and even if the weather was bad, Dad would make the most of it. Watchful Wanderers was one of his favorite places to go, even if we didn’t even buy anything but just looked. We would look together. And when he passed, I felt lost. I was jumping around from job to job, never really doing anything too important or interesting. And that’s when Beau heard Ford was looking for an assistant. I’d never applied for something—in person—so fast. I walked into Ford’s office, claiming we had an appointment, and laid it all on the line. I told him he needed me, and I needed him. I left convinced he thought I was crazy, but the next day he called me and told me I got the job, on a trial basis, given my lack of experience.
Thankfully, that trial basis turned into the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
A job that keeps me close to my dad, keeps me intrigued, and keeps me close to . . . well, Ford.
“Thank you. I was just going to get up and jog back to the bed-and-breakfast.”
“You’re going to ditch me like that, just as I arrive? Brutal, Larkin.” He takes a seat on the wall with me. “Can’t you hang out with your boss a little bit more?”
I chuckle. “It will be a hardship, but I guess so.”
He dangles his feet over the edge like me, but his scrape the ground. “So, Palmer stopped by,” he says in a conspiratorial tone.
“Oh, I like where this is heading.”
Ford turns toward me and props one of his legs up on the wall. He’s always been one to make eye contact—it’s one of the things that I think makes him a great boss, not just with me, but with everyone who works for him. He doesn’t try to listen to you while he works on his computer. Instead, he gives you his undivided attention.
“You will. She came barreling into my room, realization and humiliation written all over her face. She asked me if I knew that Dr. Beau was the Beau.”
I chuckle. “That’s too funny. I mean, he does look older, but I don’t think he looks that different.”
“You see him often—it’s been a while for Palmer.”
“True.”
“But she said something that made me want to talk with you.”
“Oh? Are you here to gossip, Ford Chance?”
He chuckles and nods. “I am. Not very boss-like of me, but when it comes to my siblings, they’re so closed off that I’m always prying for information.”
“I’m not judging, just delighting in you loosening the tie every once in a while.”
He holds his arms out, and I keep my eyes straight ahead, refusing to take in his rock-hard biceps or the way his shirt pulls across his sculpted chest. “No tie in sight—I’m completely loose.”
I laugh. “Okay, let’s not get crazy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you truly let loose.”
“Not sure I know how to.” He shrugs. “So, she said there was history between her and Beau.”
“You mean the whole fire thing?”
“That’s what I asked, but she said that was barely a blip in their history. I know Palmer had a crush on him back in high school, and she never admitted it, but I wasn’t sure if . . . you know, anything happened between them. Has Beau said anything to you?”
“No!” I grab my phone. “He’s never mentioned anything.”
“What are you doing?”
“Texting him. I want to know what kind of history she’s talking about.” I reach out and touch Ford’s hand as a thought comes to mind. “Oh my God, what if they were intimate? Urgh, I would be so mad if he never told me.”
Ford’s eyes land on my hand, and I realize I’m touching my boss in a way I probably shouldn’t be touching my boss. I quickly snatch my hand away and pull up my text thread with Beau, ignoring the obvious loss of my mind.
“What are you asking him?” Ford says, completely ignoring my slip as well.
“When he’s at the office, I have to be straight to the point because he usually texts me back in between patients.” I type out the message and hit send. “I just asked if he ever got intimate with Palmer.”
“Wow.” He chuckles. “You’re right, you do get straight to the point.”
My phone beeps in my hand, and I read the text out loud. “‘Where is this coming from . . . is Ford asking you to ask me?’” I laugh as Ford frowns. “Caught red handed.”
“Hey, you want to know too.”
“I do, desperately. Don’t worry, I’ll play it cool.” As I type back, I read my text out loud. “‘No, he would never do that. But he did say that Palmer mentioned there was history. I was just curious.’”
“Perfect,” Ford says with a smile. “Do you think he’d tell you?”
“Not sure.” My phone dings, and we both look at each other with giddy expressions before I open the text and read it out loud. “‘Palmer mentioned history, huh? Interesting.’”
“He’s being coy.” Ford leans in closer, and the feel of him entering my personal space sends a wave of goose bumps down my leg.
“He is, but not for long.” I type, trying not to show how shaky my hands feel from his proximity. “‘Sooo . . . is that a yes? Were you intimate?’”
“Man, you are brutal,” Ford says as he stretches his arms behind him. I keep my eyes on my phone.
“Being the older sister, it’s my responsibility to make sure I keep my brother in line. You are aware of the older sibling responsibilities?”
“Far too familiar. But I think your relationship with your brother is better than what I have with my siblings.”
“You really think your relationship with your siblings is that bad?” I ask.