Really, she was fine. But she couldn’t bring herself to move away from him. Not when his skin smelled like pine trees and his heart beat so clearly in her ear. She could’ve stayed like that forever and been perfectly happy.

After what felt like hours, he slowly peeled her body away from his and brought his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry. I might’ve pushed you too quickly.”

She shook her head. “I want to try again.”

His brow knit into a tight line of worry. “No. We can try again another day. The regatta isn’t that important.”

She steeled her jaw. “Not for the regatta. For me.”

He, more than anyone else, would surely understand that.

He thought about it for too many seconds, and while she didn’t like asking anyone for permission, she knew she needed his. She wouldn’t overcome this fear on her own, and he would keep her safe. It’s what he did.

Finally he nodded. “Okay.”

And he walked her back into the water and held her until the nightmare couldn’t torment her anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

WHEN HE GOT HOME, Cody did the thing he’d been avoiding all day—he called his mom. She answered on the first ring.

“I was starting to worry you were off on a supersecret mission,” she said by way of greeting.

“Hey, Mom.”

“How are things?”

“Good.”

“You’re taking care of yourself?”

“Yep. Everything is fine.”

“Save any lives lately?”

The image of Louisa floating in the water pummeled him.

“I’m sure you have. You don’t have to tell me about it.”

It was like this with his mom sometimes. She thought everything he did—even cleaning the boats or checking the engines or running training drills—was top secret. But it was time to tell her the truth. And she wasn’t going to like it. Because while he’d been back in Nantucket for weeks, he’d yet to break that news to his mother.

“I actually called to tell you something,” she said before he could find the words.

“Oh?” His mind spun with possibilities. Maybe she’d finally started dating again. Wouldn’t that be something?

“I got an invitation in the mail.”

His heart dropped. Louisa. He’d asked her not to send it, but she’d sent it. Why was he not surprised?

“It’s for a birthday party for Maggie Fisher. You remember Maggie, right?”

He grunted an affirmative response.

“Well, it’s her birthday, and you know how big of a deal birthdays always were to us—I mean, of course you probably remember those big bashes we threw you kids—” She stopped.

“I remember.”

“I’ve decided I’m going to go.”