Page 61 of Doyle

She didn’t know how, but she ached to believe Doyle’s words.

As if he knew her thoughts, Doyle walked up to her. “Beautiful night.”

She nodded.

“Dinner smells amazing. Was the pig your idea?”

She glanced up at him. “I watched it done at a resort our family stayed at and always wanted to do it. Rosa said she knew how, so... I said, let’s roast a pig.”

“Brilliant,” he said softly.

Here went nothing—“You were right about my trying so hard, Doyle. I just... I just really wanted to know that I could do this without the safety net of the Pepper purse, so to speak.” She sighed.

“I think you didexactlythat. Your presentation last night hit all the right notes, and frankly, the ask was perfect. Hopefully you raised enough for operating expenses for the entire year, plus new equipment for the clinic, even if Ethan doesn’t donate.” He reached for a glass of lemonade. “One thing I learned when I was planning to be a missionary—there are people who go and people who send. And they send because they want to invest in something they can’t do themselves. Or aren’t called to do. You gave these donors an opportunity to be more than they are, do more than they could do. It’s a gift to them. And if the Pepper family—or Declan—had come to the rescue, then they would have missed out on that.” He put a hand on her shoulder. A warm, albeit a little roughened, hand. “I’m privileged to work with you.”

His touch shot warmth all the way through her body, to her painted toes. She met his eyes, and his gaze found hers, lingered.

Her heart thundered.

“I’m glad to see you two getting along, finally.” Declan and Austen had come up behind them. He wore a pair of jeans and a short-sleeve shirt, flip-flops.

Doyle’s gorgeous sister had braided her hair into a fat, loose weave, wore a flowing linen dress, and was also in flip-flops. She leaned on Doyle’s shoulder.

He broke Tia’s gaze and put his arm around his sister.

Declan picked up a lemonade. “I know I sort of pulled a fast one on you, and that wasn’t my intent. Thank you for working it out.”

Austen stepped away from Doyle. “When you’re ready to teach these kids how to dive, call me.”

“You leaving?”

“Tomorrow.” Funny, but she looked at Declan when she said it, then away, to the ocean. “I have sharks who need me.”

Tia laughed, but Doyle turned to her. “She’s serious. She keeps track of the shark population in the Keys. She’s like... the shark whisperer.”

“I’m not, actually?—”

“She is,” Stein said, joining them. “She looks right at them, and then when they come close she just guides them away, like they’re dogs coming to play.”

“They are like dogs. They’re curious, not vicious. Except they use their mouths to investigate—instead of their noses.”

“And leave people without arms as they discover we’re not seals,” Stein said with a shiver.

“But, youarea SEAL,” Austen said, winking.

“Oh, you’re cute.” He shook his head. “And I’m not anymore.”

“Once a SEAL, always a SEAL, Stein.” The voice came from outside their conversation.

Tia looked over as one of the Jones, Inc. guys walked up. Short brown hair, built, he wore a gun on his hip, a knife on his leg, andoh boy.

“I don’t love the kids seeing you carrying a gun,” Tia said. “It could remind them too much of Sebold.”

He nodded. “I understand, ma’am. I’ll try and keep it hidden.” Then he turned to Doyle. “You’re Stein’s kid brother?”

Doyle nodded.

“North Gunderson. Your cousin Ranger is on our team. He’s working with the local police on a strategy to apprehend the Sebold crew.”

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