Those whiskers were completely out of character. Something was definitely bothering his cousin, something bad, and Vance couldn’t in good conscience let that lie. That’s why he was going to take that hike up the beach. It wasn’t about getting closer to Layla, not at all.
Because he was still determined to ignore his clamoring libido. That he couldn’t evict her from his thoughts didn’t mean he had to pull her back into his bed.
It took little time to reach Captain Crow’s. Twinkling lights framed the roofline and the railings of the restaurant/bar. It was Surfing Saturday, according to the chalkboard set up at the entrance. Two TVs over the bar were playing baseball games, the other two showing surf movies. The music pouring from the speakers was a classic beach tune from Jan and Dean, “Surf City.” The drink specials were Longboard beer and double mai tais.
Vance found seats along the railing surrounding the deck that overlooked the ocean. Behind them were the tables, most of them full. He didn’t search the crowd for Layla.
Because Baxter was already surveying the knots of people. “I see them. Addy, Layla and Skye,” he said. “They’re back in the corner with girl drinks—something with rum, I guess.”
Vance experienced a small clutch of worry. Layla could hold her tequila, but rum? Maybe he should go check—
No. God. She was an adult. She didn’t need him supervising her night out. Sighing, Vance shook his head at the way Mr. Happy had perked up at the idea.
After ordering beers, he and his cousin both stared morosely into the distance. The waves came in long shallow spreads, fanning like spilled milk against the sand. The music switched to The Beach Boys’ “Wouldn’t It Be Nice.”
“I hate that song,” Bax muttered.
Eyebrows raised, Vance glanced over. “Okay. Does that mean you’re ready to talk about what’s eating you?”
“I blame it on my parents.”
Vance stared at him in shock as the longnecks were delivered. Baxter had always got on well with his folks, just like Fucking Perfect Fitz. Vance had been the family’s only agitator. “What did Uncle Roy and Aunt Alison do to ruin an iconic song of the 1960s for you?”
“I don’t mean they ruined the song for me. I mean they may have ruined me. Consider how badly they’ve skewed my worldview. They’re devoted to each other. Your folks, too. “
“How dare they,” Vance said, his voice mild.
Baxter pointed at him with his beer. “You can laugh, but I’m right. All that marital bliss can make a man expect things. Want things for himself.”
Vance groaned. “Are you going to tell me about the BSLS again? I already know you have a wedding with all the trimmings inked in on it somewhere.”
“Not before thirty-one,” Baxter said.
“There you go,” Vance answered, and clacked his beer bottle against his cousin’s. “You don’t need to stress about that for another couple of years. You can be the freewheeling happy bachelor you’ve always been for quite some time more.”
His cousin sent him a fulminating look, then glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the ladies. “I’m not happy.”
Vance followed the direction of his gaze to where the three women were gathered at a round table, including the spritelike blonde. Well. He’d sensed undercurrents that first day at Captain Crow’s and now it was clear to him. Baxter had something going with Addy—or rather, Baxter wanted something going with Addy but had been shut down. Beach House No. 9 was quite the hotbed of romantic tension this month, wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry, cuz,” Vance said. “You should be more like me. Unmoved by the influence of our parents’ marital accord. Embracing the single life with gusto.”
“Oh, really.” Baxter narrowed his eyes. “Wasn’t it you who were engaged not long ago?”
“Yes, but—”
“Are you saying it wasn’t because you saw the example of your folks’ marriage—”
“Blythe wasn’t about that,” Vance said, his voice going tight.
“Oh?” Baxter took a swig of his beer. “What was Blythe about?”
“Fitz.” Shocked that his brother’s name had come out of his mouth, Vance busied it by taking a long swallow from his bottle. Then another. When he finally set the beer down, he noticed Baxter was staring at him. “What?”
“You said Blythe was about Fitz.”
Shit, Bax had heard that. Vance sighed. “The first time I met her, you know what I thought?”
His cousin shook his head.
“I thought she was just Fitz’s type. He always goes for those impenetrable cool ones.” He huffed out a short laugh. “Maybe I have a