Is It Any Wonder (Nantucket Love Story #2) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,92
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?”