“I had sex on a boat!” Emma’s eyes widened at the loud greeting. Sloane hadn’t meant to yell the information, but she opened the driver’s side door wider and kept on. “Brady and I. This week. We had just finished cleaning it, and then, well, we had sex on a boat.”

Emma laughed. “And I’m guessing by your clear excitement that it was light-years better than doing it on Derrick’s dad’s boat.”

Sloane nodded so much that one of her hooped earrings popped out and hit the ground. “Sonofa—”

Emma beat her to scooping it up.

“Well, I’m glad boat sex with Brady is so good it knocked your earring out.” She handed it over, then looped her arm around Sloane’s waist as they started for the bar. “You know, I like him, but I think I like you around him more.”

“Um. Rude.”

“What I mean is, I haven’t seen you like this in a really long time,” she said with a hip bump.

“What? Clumsy, loud, and bad at windows?”

“Enjoying yourself.” Emma smiled at Sloane’s raised eyebrow. “You just seem to be really digging you lately. I mean, you published your secret blog, all but clinched a contract with a literary agent, brunched and boated with the Robertsons and survived, played spy, became judge and jury of perhaps the most embarrassing sex stories I’ve ever heard in my life, and you are out here right now rocking a dress that shows more cleavage than I’ve ever seen you rock like it’s nothing. Yeah, Brady might have helped push you out of your comfort zone, but, Sloane De Carlo, you’re the one out here dancing through it all.”

Sloane started to deny the observation but decided there was some truth to what Emma said. The last few weeks had shown her a different side to herself, and she was starting to enjoy it. And the man who had been mostly by her side through all of the awkward mishaps and slight chaos.

“You forgot to add really good boat sex to the list,” Sloane said, passing a gentle shoulder bump over.

“Ah, you’re right. We mustn’t forget really good boat sex.”

Sloane shook her head before both devolved into a fit of laughter. A few cars swung into the parking lot behind them. It made Sloane ecstatic.

And nervous.

Brady, Dixon and his parents, and Santana were all inside, bracing for what they hoped would be a party that reminded Arbor Bay of the sense of community a small-town bar could offer.

Sloane was now completely invested in that hope. Which meant her excitement and nerves had her insides buzzing and her over-the-top nature one step away from having her make a fool of herself.

“I just hope people really dig this party,” she admitted as they both stopped before the front door. “Cassidy’s is a good place.”