“Yes and no. I work at a florist shop that has a few standing deals with wedding venues around Nashville. So, when she works a wedding, I’m her liaison of sorts. But since that isn’t a full-time job, I’ve also been building up contacts and networking by doing odd jobs with a catering company and some of the venues directly. Most of the time I get double-booked for the same event by both Mrs. Baker and the catering company. It’s a bit chaotic, but I truly love it. So much so that, if this blog turns into a book, I hope to become co-owner at the florist shop and then, when I’m ready, open my own business. It’s stressful, but before I was juggling it all, I worked a job as a communications specialist for a local campaigning company. I tried to build a decent savings account, but, holy crinkle fries, that was a shit show and a half. I might not be in full control with Mrs. Baker’s shop or when I’m running around for others, but at least I still get to do what I love. Not so much with that last one.”

“You also have time to write on your blog, apparently.”

Sloane snorted. It made Brady feel like he was rubbing off on her. She was starting to be more cavalier with how she held herself around him.

“Fun fact: I actually haven’t written a blog post in almost five months.”

That was a fun fact. He had pictured her sitting in bed and writing away on her laptop every night before bed. Not not writing.

Brady uncovered his eyes and peeked over at the woman. It was a mistake.

Sloane De Carlo was wearing the hell out of a swimsuit. Two-piece, black, simple.

Delectable.

The contrast against her skin, the curves it highlighted, and the tiniest of strings keeping it all together had slowly been driving him mad since she’d thrown off her coverup on the boat. Standing and swimming in the water after that had made it easier to pretend the only thing between her skin and his was a few swaths of thin, thin fabric. Now, though? Sloane was lying on her back, towel over her eyes, her smooth skin winking up at the sun.

Brady gave a little headshake to no one but himself.

She might have run away to Arbor Bay, but it was clear the life she wanted was back in Nashville. Even if their relationship was real, it wouldn’t last.

He loved his life right where it was.

So, thinking about starting something with Sloane?

Not part of the plan.

But if I kissed her, would she taste like coconut?

“Really?” Brady recovered, clearing his throat. “I thought since it went viral, the blog had a lot of new posts.”