“We’re supposed to turn this boat into a parade float in two days, and right now it looks as appealing as the boat in Jaws.” Brady gave her a questioning look at the reference. She sighed. “You know, the boat after it was half eaten by the shark.”

Brady let out a laugh that did double duty, propelling him toward the object that was in the center of Sloane’s lack of affections. It was almost ten in the morning on Wednesday, and the rain from the day before had finally let up that morning, allowing them to retrieve Roger’s boat so they could start the decoration process for the parade. Now Roboata was parked beside Sloane’s childhood home, looking like some kind of ghost vessel lurking in the shadows.

“It needs a good scrub is all.” He motioned to the patches of dried mud, green mildew, and yellow pollen. The trinity of living outside in Arbor Bay. “Until then, just think about her inner beauty and not her outer gunk.”

A whisper of a smile swept over her lips when Brady turned back to her, arms spread wide, trying to physically draw her attention to his point.

The same lips he’d made swollen from their time spent in her room, not more than a quick walk inside the house behind them. Callum had already called in and said he was staying late at the office again and wouldn’t be around until nine or ten later that night.

Definitely enough time for a repeat of Brady and Sloane’s earlier performances.

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t really, really want an encore even now, standing in front of a time-sensitive chore in the form of a boat that had seen better days.

“There you go sounding like a fortune cookie again,” Sloane said, seemingly fighting a full-blown smile. “Maybe not the most eloquent one, but you’re right. I’m sure everything will fall into place once we have a clean slate to look at.”

She picked up the soap next to her feet and the rolls of paper towels.

“After you, El Capitan.”

Roboata was small and, Brady bet, not that fast. Yet it still was more than he expected as they climbed aboard. There was enough room for the two of them to scrub, spray down, and clean their areas without bumping into each other.

Close proximity but, with their efficiency, it felt like they were miles apart.

Brady didn’t like it.

So he made a move that could have cost him everything.

He turned the water hose around and sprayed Sloane right in the beautiful backside.

“Brady!” She dropped her towels and spun around, more fire in her eyes than before. “What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing?”

Brady put on the most innocent expression he could manage.

“Sorry, sweet cakes. It was an accident. My hand slipped.”