My jaw flexed, and I bit back every remark that came to mind, like how fucking ludicrous it was that Claire talked to her mother every week when she hadn’t bothered to call Finley in the last two months. “How is she?” I managed to ask.

It wasn’t Brie’s fault that Claire was…well, Claire.

“She’s good. Still in L.A. waiting to see if the last pilot she did gets picked up.”

“Pilot. Right.” How many was that now?

“She really does miss Finley. You, too, of course.” Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Yeah, misses her so much that she’s seen her once in the last eight months.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm the ever-present rage that boiled to my surface whenever I thought about the way Claire treated Fin. “You know what? Let’s not do this.”

Brie forced a quick smile. “Good idea. Let’s get down to the barbecue,” she suggested, moving to hold the door open.

“Yeah, let’s get out there.” I latched the cooler and lifted its hefty weight, then headed out of the house and down the stairs with Brie following close behind.

My gaze caught on the massive F250 parked outside Morgan’s boathouse. Sam—her last houseguest—had left two days ago, and I hadn’t seen the truck or her Mini Cooper budge.

None of your business.

Except I’d gone and made it my business the minute I’d rescued her over a week ago. But what the hell else was I supposed to have done, left her stranded with her Hello Kitties blowing in the breeze, half in and half out of her staircase?

Maybe if she hadn’t fallen through the wood, if Fin hadn’t heard her yell, if I hadn’t raced out there to dislodge her, I would have had a prayer’s chance of ignoring my new neighbor.

Sure, until you saw her or heard her speak.

Yeah, there was nothing ignorable about Morgan Bartley, which was really damned inconvenient.

Not that I was going to act on that attraction. Hell no, my life was complicated enough without messing around with someone I had to see on a daily basis. Morgan was off-limits, which didn’t really matter, because something told me she wasn’t emotionally available, anyway, even if she had called me pretty.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Brie said, jarring me from my thoughts as we reached the ground. “You saved me from tagging along to the shipwreck museum for the hundredth time.”

“You’re Finley’s aunt—you’re always invited,” I reminded her for the thousandth time since we brought Fin home from the hospital.