“You think you can judge character on external appearance?” Skylar reached for a napkin, her blue eyes cool and her voice low. “Personally I find it dangerous to make assumptions until you’ve spent time with a person. Take you, for example. If I went on appearances, I’d say you were rude, but you’re best friends with Ryan, who is charming, so I’m guessing there’s more to you than bad manners. I’m guessing you were hurt in the past, and now you’re doing that thing of assuming all women are like the woman who hurt you. That’s a way of making sure you live life alone.”

A muscle flickered in Alec’s jaw. “I’m working on it.”

Ryan knew that in Alec’s case, the wounds were just too raw for him to be able to see a time when Selina would be nothing more than a mistake in his past.

Alec and Skylar stared at each other, gazes locked in silent battle, and Emily cleared her throat.

“So, you’re a maritime historian?”

“He’s also a marine archaeologist,” Ryan said, “which means we can push him under the water any time we’ve had enough of him on dry land. Which might be soon, Al.”

“Archaeologist?” Emily poured herself a glass of water. “Do you know Brittany?”

Dragging his gaze from Skylar, Alec gave a brief nod. “Yes.”

“Don’t ever get them together,” Ryan advised. “I remember a tedious evening when the two of them talked about nothing but the seafaring history of ancient Minoans. I wanted to drown myself.”

Alec pushed his plate away, leaving most of his food untouched. “Is she coming back this summer or is she spending the whole time in Crete?”

“How do you know she’s in Crete?”

“We exchange emails. And I read her blog. Her expertise is Bronze Age weaponry, and there was talk of an exciting find at one of the excavation sites.” Alec frowned. “Daggers? Arrowheads?”

Skylar finished her fries. “I’ve always said that Brittany is the original Lara Croft.”

“Does that mean she wears those cute tiny shorts when she’s digging?” Ryan leaned forward and stole one of Alec’s fries. “I always thought archaeology was boring, but maybe not. I still haven’t forgiven her for shooting me in the butt, though, when I was running along the coast path. She’d spent the summer making Cretan arrowheads in Kathleen’s garden and decided to test one as I passed.”

“Wait a minute—” Emily put her fork down and focused on Alec. “I recognize you, now. You’re the Shipwreck Hunter. You made a documentary on the shipwrecks of Maine, and you kayaked the Colorado River with a geologist. I can’t remember what it was called. Adventures through Time or something. Did you see it, Sky?”