They were connected, as if by some strange invisible cord, as if she knew what he was thinking for the first time since he’d returned to the island. This was the kind of link she’d been hoping for, but that had up until this point always remained just out of reach.

They sped out in front of the competition and she glanced back long enough to admire the way he looked right now. His hat hid that curly dark hair, and a pair of sunglasses concealed her favorite brown eyes—but his bronze skin glowed under the light of the sun, and his muscles rippled underneath his gray Coast Guard T-shirt.

“Everything okay?” he called out.

She waved in response—words failed her.

“We’re changing direction. You ready?”

She gave him a thumbs-up and braced herself, determined not to be the space case that cost him this race.

As they took the second half, only one other boat even stood a chance—Charlie Pope and McKenzie Palmer. Of course.

Blondie let out a loud cheer as they pulled ahead, and Cody’s face turned serious. They raced neck and neck, the cheers of the crowd propelling them forward. The wind kicked up and Cody adjusted the sails, shooting a nose in front of the other boat. Louisa stood and cheered as the boat sped out in front, but her movement created enough of a disruption to Cody’s perfectly calculated plan that the other boat passed them just in time to claim first place.

McKenzie and Charlie both whooped and hollered as they sailed swiftly in.

Louisa glanced back at Cody, who stood stone-faced and seemingly unaffected. She turned toward the victors, only to see McKenzie rush straight into Charlie’s arms and plant a kiss square on his mouth.

The kiss turned decidedly PG-13, and Louisa looked away. “Does that bother you?”

Cody tossed a glance toward the make-out session, then shrugged, still maneuvering their boat. “Why would it?”

Louisa faced him now. “I mean, you and McKenzie have been getting close and everything.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“The sunrise? The ‘Still on for tonight?’ Spending the evening at Queequeg’s with her?”

He didn’t stop in front of the yacht club. He sailed on past as if the other regatta attendees didn’t even matter. To some, he might look like a sore loser, but Louisa knew it was something else. Had she upset him?

He didn’t respond for a long time, just sailed them toward the shore, then hopped out and pulled the little boat up onto the beach. She stayed still, feeling like a child about to get a stern talking-to, and she maintained the appropriate level of silence.

He took off his hat and messed up his hair, perfectly disheveled the way only his could be. “Louisa.” He turned away from her.