He and Jane had an understanding, not that his siblings could comprehend that. Everybody just assumed he was on his way to harming the smartest, sexiest -
"Gage's offer sounds perfect for you. You should take him up on it."
- most annoying and most troublesome woman in the world. "What the hell do you know about it?" he demanded.
Inside her sand tomb he could discern her shrug. "I picked up bits and pieces. David said it's an in-depth piece on a new rebel training camp in Somewhere-istan."
"Somewhere-istan," Griffin muttered. "Everybody's a comedian."
"It sounds right up your alley. And it's a chance to work with your brother."
"I've already got work," he said. What was wrong with her? Didn't she remember that this project was necessary to recoup her reputation? "Not to mention a dog."
"Tess and family would take Private. I will, if it comes to that."
"Tess's minions keep her busy enough. And I can't leave him with a talking head."
She just looked at him. "Griffin - "
"And Rebecca's presentation. You think I can skip out on that? The old man will live another twenty-five years just so he can tweak me about it."
"Be serious," she said. "For this, you can probably get an extension on your deadline. Maybe you can work the new assignment into the memoir. Or just finish it while you're on the road. You know you can do it."
Without her. That's what she was saying. Go ahead, go on and go about your life.
He stared at Jane. She'd forgotten sunscreen again, and her nose was going to peel if she kept this up. Tess and Gage had been worried he was on his way to quashing her romantic dreams while the clear-eyed, pouty-mouthed book doctor was intent on sweeping him away without the smallest sign of hesitation or regret. Why did everyone, including Jane, assume he'd snatch up the first opportunity to ditch her? What kind of man did they think he was?
Besides the kind he'd professed to be from the very beginning, a mocking voice in his head answered. I don't do serious with women, never have.
The thought turned up his temper, which had been simmering since the munchkin mafia interrupted his morning nooky, to a boil.
He jumped to his feet. "Why does everyone think they know what's best for me? Nobody goddamn knows me at all, and that includes my sister, my twin and you. Especially you."
* * *
JANE FELT THE WEIGHT of the sand on her chest long after Duncan and Oliver returned - crabless, thank God - and dug her out. She walked down the beach to the outdoor shower near the entrance to Captain Crow's and rinsed off. Then, even though she didn't have any money on her, she was able to smile a glass of iced tea out of the guy behind the beachside bar.
Nobody goddamn knows me at all.
She supposed Griffin was right, despite her earlier claims that they had an understanding. After that call from Gage, she'd expected to find him packing a bag and double-checking the expiration date on his passport. She'd promised herself she'd be happy for him. Shouldn't she be happy for him?
But now, well... Private was going to be thrilled that the man was sticking around.
Later she wandered back down the beach. Tess's Mercedes station wagon was stuffed to the gills, and it looked iffy that there'd be room for all the kids in David's SUV. While Griffin was working with his brother-in-law to find places for the stroller, two skimboards and a mountain of beach towels, Jane slipped into No. 9 and quickly collected most of her clothes and personal items. Whatever she left behind could be retrieved later, since he'd decreed they'd still be working together on the memoir.
Not fifteen minutes later, she was smiling and waving as the Quincy clan exited the cove. "I'm going to the office," Griffin said.
"I'll be there in a little bit," she remarked to his retreating back. When the door to No. 9 shut behind him, she located her stashed suitcases and reached into her pocket for the key to the cottage next door that Tess had handed over. When she turned the knob, she pushed one bag across the threshold with her foot. The other she deposited on the narrow bench that stood in the small entry.
A gust of air blew through the open door, and she left it standing, allowing the salt-tinged breeze to mix