On the Run (Whispering Key #2) - May Archer Page 0,43

on the party boat for doing. But then, I’d also never, ever had a kiss that took me apart and left me craving more the way this one had.

It seemed a little bit like a cosmic joke that the guy who made me feel so uninhibited, so comfortable, was the last guy on earth I should want. He was so wrong for me in every possible way.

I ran a hand over my wrist, over the place where my bracelet should have been and wasn’t. Everything had started going so wrong the minute I’d lost it.

“Is your wrist okay?”

“It’s fine.”

“Should we talk about—?”

“You should hold on,” I instructed. “Maybe grab the hat again. Sun’s a killer today.”

“But what—”

“We’ll need to check the boat for leaks when we get there,” I continued, and only felt a little guilty when Toby gave a gasp and hurried to take his seat. “Better safe than sorry.”

Which applied to so much more than boating, and I really needed to remember that.

7

Toby

Help Me Hagatha (Issue #2427)

Dear Aunt Hagatha:

My boyfriend Tom is gorgeous, funny, hardworking, and kind. He’s twenty-five, I’m twenty-eight, and we’ve been in love nearly four years, so we’ve recently begun talking about marriage, but his family have never liked me much and I can tell their lack of enthusiasm is giving Tom doubts. How can I convince Tom and his folks that I’m the right one for him?

Above Rubies in Aberdeen

Dear Ruby,

Lord, honey, why would you? You say he loves you, and that’s a beautiful thing, but love is a lot like the Loch Ness Monster—everyone describes it a little differently, and it’s tough to know when you’ve found it, even if you squint. I think it looks a lot like someone who’ll stand up for you and your relationship, someone you’ll be able to count on in sickness and health for as long as you both shall live.

In general, precious, if you have to convince someone you’re worth their time, they’re not worth yours.

Best of luck,

Your favorite Auntie

Let it be stated for the record that my feelings were not hurt.

To be hurt, I would have to care what the giant with the blue eyes thought about me—a guy I’d met only the night before, who’d turned me down repeatedly for sex, who kept denying I was his soul mate like a broken record, and who went from kissing the shit out of me in the boat one minute, to treating me like a leper at a beauty pageant the second we reached the little dock on Menucha.

Yes, I’d kissed him.

Yes, that was inadvisable for many reasons.

But he’d kissed me the second time, damn it. He didn’t have to act like I was the devious rake in one of those historical romances—which I read only to get in character as Aunt Hagatha, obviously—bent on seducing him at a ball and destroying his innocence.

“I don’t even waltz!” I grumbled aloud.

I’d been lying in the sunshine like turkey bacon under the broiler for the last hour. My tan lines were going to be ridiculous, and I didn’t want to contemplate what my hair was doing, but I’d been in Florida twenty-four hours and was basically Tom Hanks in Castaway by now, so I figured there was nothing for it but to acquire a volleyball and live like the locals.

“Uh, Toby? Do you want your water bottle or something?” Beale asked from farther down the dock, concern in his voice. “If you’re talking to yourself, you might be getting dehydr—”

“I’m fine,” I bit out. “Perfectly fine.”

This was the reason I did not attempt to have adventures. All the adrenaline made me feel quite, quite fragile. It was also the reason why I kept to guys who knew exactly what they wanted—delightfully casual, amusing, mutually beneficial encounters—and I didn’t go around kissing hot guys in tiny blow-up raft-things that were susceptible to a “slow leak in one of the tubes,” whatever the fuck that meant, when they hit debris in the water.

Honestly, Beale wasn’t even that good-looking! He was tall, sure. With an enormous cock I couldn’t stop thinking about, yes. And beautifully muscular, certainly. But besides that…

I turned my head against the rough wood dock and regarded him through my sunglasses. He sat ten feet down the dock facing me with his gear bag open and a bunch of tools laid out around him, the inflatable upside down on the wooden planks between us.

That silly blue bandanna was still tied around his head, and his hair glinted gold