I LEFT THE BEACH HOUSE to find August leaning against his jeep, waiting for me.

He tipped his head back when I emerged, and even though I didn't hear him make a noise, he looked like he was groaning. Out of annoyance, I expected. Like he'd half-expected me to change my mind and text him that I was staying at his house.

Honestly, August hadn't complained as much as I thought he would about my presence. I assumed I'd be catching constant flack from him about tagging along to everything he did, but surprisingly, August had kept his mouth shut. Instead, he just glared at me occasionally.

Like he was doing right now, his eyes drifting over my outfit.

Ah, that was why he was annoyed.

"What?" I looked down at what I was wearing: jean shorts and a white tank top. The shorts were old and frayed, and the top wasn't anything special. "You told me to wear something that could get dirty. This was the most casual thing I'd packed."

"Fuck, Castle," August groaned. "You're walking out here like you're ready to win a wet t-shirt contest. Don't any of your clothes have more...clothes to them?"

"It's hot," I protested as sweat trickled down my back as if to back up my point.

When August merely grumbled and turned to get in the car, I bit down on a grin. "You think I'd win though?"

"What?" He frowned, watching as I slid into the passenger seat.

"The wet t-shirt contest. You think I'd win it?"

He shook his head, but I saw the hint of a smile on his lips. "I know you'd win, Castle."

Heat coiled in my lower belly, and I tried to ignore it as I crossed one leg over the other. Before he pulled out of the driveway, I offered, "If you think I should change, I will."

"We don't have time," August said, putting the jeep in reverse. "I'll just have to keep my eye on you tonight."

I pressed my lips together, trying to keep from showing how I felt about that. There was no use lying to myself: I liked August's eyes on me. Maybe I'd have to wear booty shorts more often on this little trip.

"Are you worried I'm going to organize risque contests in the middle of your uncle's bar?"

"I'm not worried about what you're gonna do, Castle." His frown deepened. "It's everyone else I'm worried about."

"Everyone else?" I questioned. "We practically had the whole bar to ourselves on Monday night. I don't think you have a lot to be concerned about, Fletcher."

"That was Monday," he said gruffly while pulling onto the empty road. "Today is Wednesday."

"Thank you for that prolific explanation. I think I just might put that quote in the article."

August shot me a glare, but once again, amusement wasn't too hard to spot in his eyes.

"Is that how you got your job?"

"What do you mean?"

"By being a smartass?"

"Rude." I gasped in mock indignation. "I'll have you know I'm a very capable writer and reporter."

A smile finally wormed its way onto August's face. "I know you are."

The warmth in my belly grew, this time for a different reason.

At least until August added, "I'm just used to a more...professional side of you."

He was right about that. I'd been a far cry from professional since showing up on Evergreen Isle, and I inwardly cringed that August had noticed it, too. Although that shouldn't be a surprise considering I'd already gotten drunk, asked him to rub sunscreen over my back, and wound up sharing a shower with him.

But while I regretted some of those things, I also had to acknowledge that it was working. He might be seeing a different side of me than usual, but I was also seeing a different side of him. Or rather, both sides of him. More sides of him. A better picture of who August Fletcher was. And that would only help me finish this assignment.

I cleared my throat. "You don't like reporters, so I'm trying not to act like one."

Both his brows raised, and hurt flashed across his features. "So this...you...this is an act?"

"No!" I nearly shouted the word in my efforts to reassure him. The last thing I wanted was this reporter-shy athlete to think I was tricking him. "No, I'm just...trying to act more like myself and let my guard down so you feel comfortable around me. I'm sure it isn't exactly fun for you to have me following you around and staying at your house."

He sighed, and I hoped I'd convinced him I was telling the truth. Everything that had transpired in the last forty-eight hours had been unapologetically me. And while I wasn't proud of all of it, it was one-hundred-percent Quinn Castle.

"You don't have to worry, Castle. You don't make me feel uncomfortable. Not like that."

I wanted to question exactly what he meant by not like that, but I didn't dare, considering how locked his jaw looked. So instead I teased him, hoping I could melt him back out a bit.

"Is that why you like me?" I asked.

Maybe if I made it into a joke, I could stop thinking about the strange rush of adrenaline that flooded me when August's friend asked if I was the reporter he liked, and he, so ridiculously casual about it, admitted yes.

Sure, I knew August Fletcher didn't hate me like the rest of my colleagues, but to admit that he liked me? Well, let's just say I hadn't expected to hear that. Even if he did only mean it in a platonic, I-can-tolerate-you sort of way.

"Yes, Castle." August's lips curved in a gentle smile even as he rolled his eyes. "That's why I like you."

I wanted to tease him more but decided against it. I liked this moment. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I liked it. And I didn't want to mess it up. So I fell silent, rolling down the window and reveling in the ocean air as it slapped me across the face. I breathed in, loving how it smelled while I watched the scenery pass us by on the way to the island bar.

When August held the door open at Sunny's for me to step inside, I realized he was right. For whatever reason, a Wednesday afternoon at Sunny's was way busier than a Monday night. Every table looked occupied, and at least half a dozen people were waiting in the entryway as they tried to snag a spot. The smell of grease and sea food wafted through the air.

August's fingers wrapped around my right hip, and I tried to control my breathing as his touch burned through my clothes. But it was no use. A moment later, his chest pressed against my back, a hot wall of muscle propelling me through the crowd.

"On Wednesdays, Sunny hosts a fish fry," he grunted in my ear, his hands working to maneuver me in the direction he wanted. Honestly, it was a miracle I was able to follow his lead and stay on my feet considering how close he was. And how husky his voice sounded when his lips flirted with my ear. "Starts at one and lasts until closing. It's all hands on deck 'round here on Wednesdays. The whole damn town will make an appearance at some point today."

August did not sound excited about that last part. I found it ironic that a man who made a living performing for massive crowds hated being in them.

I let August guide me behind the bar where Sunny and a tall man with beachy blonde hair were slinging drinks for patrons who'd sidled up to the bar. Sunny nodded at us but didn't pause for small talk.

The same couldn't be said for the other man, who stopped what he was doing when he saw August and me standing at the end of the back bar. He threw a towel on his shoulder and regarded us with a cool, toying grin that slunk its way onto his face while he popped a hip against the counter.

"Look who decided to show up."

August cleared his throat. "Had a busy morning."

The man's brows did a little wiggle, and I could tell he was about to make a joke that would make me flush when August cut in.

"Cohen, this is Quinn. She's a Warrior's reporter. She's gonna hang around today. Quinn, this is my cousin, Cohen."

I stuck my hand out with a smile, happy to meet someone else in August's life. He'd mentioned how he helps out at the bar with his cousin, and this was the perfect opportunity to experience one of the reasons that August had returned to the Isle when he could have retired anywhere in the world.

Cohen gripped my hand, returning my greeting.

"Welcome to the fun, Quinn."

"Thank you!" I replied breathlessly. "I'm happy to be here and will help however possible."

Cohen nodded, exuding warmth as he continued to shake my hand until August cleared his throat. I dropped from Cohen's grip to look over my shoulder, finding August dragging a stool toward me.

"Sit," he said, pointing to it.

I gave him a look. "I'm not a dog."

Although I'd sit if it meant he'd call me a good g—

"I'm well aware," August said dryly, eyes flicking over me. "But I need you to sit in a spot that's out of the way while I–"

"If you want me to stay out of the way, I can just find a spot along the bar to–"

"If I'm on this side of the bar, you're on this side of the bar," he argued, his hard voice telling me he wouldn't back down. "Not letting you out of my sight, remember?"

"I think you'll still be able to see me if I'm across from you." I lifted a brow. "Better than if I'm behind you."

"Castle," he groaned my name like he'd done earlier when I walked out of the house. "Just–"

"Fine," I broke in because I could tell I was stressing him out, which was the opposite of my intention. "I'll stay on this side of the bar. But then at least let me help. It's packed in here."

"I don't have time to teach you the ropes."

I scanned the bar, watching Cohen and Sunny fill beer after beer with a flick of the tap before looking back at August.

"Pretty sure I can handle pouring some drinks," I said, snatching a spare towel off the countertop and tucking it into the back pocket of my jean shorts. Ignoring the look on August's face, I brushed past him and leaned toward a waiting patron.

"What can I get you?"

Behind me, I heard August swear under his breath.

Meanwhile, I grinned.

I had a feeling I was going to have fun today.

☀️

a/n:

I think August is definitely regretting bringing Quinn to Sunny's. And the night's just getting started!

xoxo amelie