“It’s nice, right?” Dev asked, reaching for a second pain au chocolat, which Bee clocked disapprovingly. “Kinda feels like being rocked to sleep.”

“Totally,” Alex agreed, grabbing a rocky sugar cube for her coffee. She found that, once she’d said the truth without embarrassment or explanation, she actually felt kind of good. “How’s the gallery, Bee?”

Silently, Dev’s hand moved back to Bee’s, and she took in a deep breath before responding: clearly she, too, had subjects for which there was a preapproved script.

“I’m taking some time away from the gallery,” she started, adjusting her sweater. “I sold my ownership stake before the twins were born, and I’ll revisit things at the end of the year.”

“That makes sense!” Alex replied, perhaps a little too cheerfully.

“It does,” Dev agreed, giving his wife’s hand a gentle squeeze.

There was quiet again, and under them, the boat caught an unexpected wave, rattling the china on the table.

“Can someone tell them this is the quiet car?” Dev joked, blotting a little coffee that had spilled from his cup.

“We were on a Benetti last year for the Grand Prix, it was a lot more stable.” Bee’s hands wrapped around her coffee cup, an almost mindlessly defensive position.

“The Grand Prix?” Alex asked, not even bothering to ask about the word “Benetti”—she assumed it was another purveyor of extremely fancy boats.

“Formula One,” she responded. “It’s basically car racing. He and Danny are obsessed,” she nudged her shoulder into Dev’s.

“It’s a little more than car racing.” He nudged her back. “But yes, I do enjoy it.”

“I’ll have to check it out.”

“It’s not more than car racing,” a distinct male voice called from the sliding glass door.

Danial.

He was clad in a cropped pair of swim trunks and a short-sleeve button-down shirt that had been left wide open, revealing beautifully developed chest muscles covered by an expanse of fine, dark hair. Alex immediately averted her gaze, willing herself to focus on his callous comment about running away to Greece, instead of his sculpted torso.

“Good morning, sexy,” Dev responded, smiling. “All this for me?”

“You know it.” Danial walked over, kindly declining the crew member who’d seemingly materialized to offer him coffee. “No, I’ve got it. Thank you very much, though.”