He felt kind of sorry for baby Connor. It wasn’t his fault his parents were jerks. But Dan would be goddamned if he’d let Kelly and Matt do any further damage to Kara. She’d worked hard enough to overcome the betrayal of two people she’d loved. They weren’t going to get another chance at her. Not if he had anything to say about it.

As he drove, he scrolled through his contacts, looking for the number for Kara’s backup driver, Tim. He and Dan had gone out for beers a few times and had exchanged numbers, for which he was now extremely grateful.

“It’s too early to drink, Torrington,” Tim said when he answered the phone, sounding as if he’d just woken up.

“I need you to relieve Kara.”

“Why? I’m working tonight.”

“It’s urgent. Will you get down to the dock and use the backup boat?”

“What’s wrong with the main boat?”

“Nothing. I’ll explain later. Please. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

“I don’t care who asks, you have no idea where Kara is. Got me?”

“Yeah, sure. Is she okay?”

“She will be. I’ll make sure of it. Thanks, Tim.”

“No problem.”

Dan found a parking space on the street that led to the marina and grabbed it, knowing it might be as close as he’d get. He locked the car and took off running, which was still rather painful in the vicinity of his ribs, which had been broken in the accident. The pain was of no consequence, however, when it came to reaching Kara before her sister did.

He flew past the marina restaurant, oblivious to shouts from Grant’s brother Mac, who asked him where the fire was.

Dan took the ramp to the floating dock that housed Kara’s launch. Giving thanks to every god in the universe that she was just pulling in with a boatload of passengers, Dan waited until every one of them had disembarked before he jumped on the boat. As always, his loafers slid precariously on the deck, which made Kara laugh.

“Where the heck did you come from?” she asked, flashing the smile that made him weak in the knees. Her long hair was contained in a ponytail pulled through the back of a Ballard Boat Works ball cap that protected her fair complexion from the sun.

“Go,” he said, tossing off the stern line.

“What’re you doing? I have customers.”

The bench on the dock where people waited for rides to their boats in the anchorage was empty at the moment.

“Drive the boat. I’ll explain on the way.”

“On the way to where?”

“Anywhere but here. Please. Drive the boat.”

Giving him a puzzled look, she tossed off the spring line and backed the boat out of the slip.