“How are the regatta plans coming along?” Duncan was at his door, interrupting his thoughts, and while he should thank his superior, truthfully he just wanted to cling to the image of Louisa in that dress for a few more minutes.

“Good,” he said. “I mean, I think they’re good. I’m meeting with Louisa later today for an update.”

“How are you two?”

Cody frowned. “Sir?”

“Things seemed a little strained at the auction. Is there something going on there?” He paused for a beat, then held up his hands. “Never mind. That’s not my business. But I think if you have half a shot with a girl like that, you better take it.”

Duncan had no idea what he was talking about.

“She’s beautiful. She’s smart. She’s successful.”

“So why don’t you ask her out?”

Duncan’s eyes twinkled, and Cody swore if the man were a cartoon character, there’d be a bell dinging on cue with his smile. “I would if I didn’t think she was hung up on my second-in-command.”

“It’s really not like that,” Cody said.

“Enjoy the meeting. It’s slow here, so don’t come back when you’re done.”

“Chief?”

“You heard me, Boggs. You’re done for the day. Go plan this regatta and make it a good one. The Coast Guard and the family of Jackson Wirth are counting on you.”

Cody knocked on the door to Louisa’s office and braced himself for the rush of oxygen that would inevitably leave his body the second he saw her.

She appeared in the doorway. And there it went—all the air in his lungs.

She motioned for him to come in but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like Louisa to be quiet. He fought the urge to ask her what was wrong, but she quickly launched into the latest plans for the regatta. Food vendors. Spots for the Coast Guard to set up demonstrations. Various races with various prizes. She said nothing about the Race with a Coastie event and nothing about Jackson Wirth.

She ran through details so quickly, he was certain she wasn’t even listening to herself, let alone expecting him to listen to her.

“What’s wrong with you?” he interrupted when she was in the process of telling him about the kayaks she’d secured for the day of the event—another activity she’d added to the itinerary.

Her eyes drifted up toward his, but she didn’t respond.

“Something’s obviously bothering you.”

“What makes you say that?” She dropped her pen onto her desk and pushed her iPad away.

He shrugged. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

She half laughed, but it was clear she wasn’t amused. “How would you know? Maybe this is me being myself.”

All business. Cold. Quick. No, this definitely wasn’t Louisa.

“You haven’t smiled once since I walked in here,” he said.