Page 24 of The Billionaire's Teacher

Zee cackled in my ear. “You’re probably right. Keep an eye on it anyway, okay? I’m more concerned about you than anything else.”

“Appreciate it.” And I did. Zee was the closest thing I had to a mother figure down here. My own mother hadn’t approved of Luca. Hadn’t approved of us living in the islands. Hadn’t approved of me not running home when Luca died. Basically, Mom just didn’t approve. And Dad valued his sanity more than any urge to disagree with her. Fair enough. He had to keep living with her. I didn’t.

“Expect me to check in a few times once we know what’s going on.”

I snickered. “Roger that. Later, Zee.”

I ended the call and headed back to the table.

“Everything all right?” Wes had finished his food in the short time I’d been away. The man could sure pack it in with a singular focus.

“Yeah. Technically, it’s hurricane season, and there are already some storms forming. I’d like to get back to the boat and give them a look. We might be better off rerouting.” There were options. Good ones. We might not hit all the islands that he’d initially listed when he made his reservation, but I could still make sure he left with lots of contacts and dive trip possibilities. From what I gathered, that mattered more to Wes than a strict adherence to his itinerary.

“Okay.”

I tipped my head to the side. “Just like that?”

“Yeah. You’re the expert when it comes to this. I trust you and will follow your lead.” Wes tossed a balled-up napkin onto his empty plate, then glanced over at mine. “You want to get a box for that?”

I looked at the food. I probably should. Just because I couldn’t stomach the idea of eating it right now—the worry from Zee reaching out so persistently was starting to build—didn’t mean I wouldn’t regret it later. “Yeah. I’ll go get one and take care of the check.”

“I can—”

I waved Wes back into his seat. “You already did. I’m just a conduit.”

He laughed. “As long as it’s not coming out of your personal pocket.”

I wasn’t going to analyze how that made me feel. Because it was confusing. Instead, I made my way through the tables and into the little café. I went up to the counter and snagged a box off the stack that sat beside the register.

“You’re leaving already?” Martina’s mother turned from where she manned a cooktop and wiped her hands on her apron. Her brows knit. “We have some good desserts.”

“Sorry. I need to go check on the storms.”

“Ah.” The older woman nodded and punched keys on the register.

Islanders understood. Just as they also understood there was little, if anything, to be done about it. If the storms were going to hit, they were going to hit. Evacuation wasn’t always possible. Even in the situations when it was, most would rather ride it out than flee. Storms were as much a part of life here as the sunshine and ocean. And all were unpredictable.

I handed over cash, including a good tip for Martina. “Thanks. It was delicious.”

“It’s good to see you. Come back sooner than you did this time. Okay?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I leaned across the counter to kiss the air beside her cheek. “Stay safe.”

“You as well.” Martina’s mother turned back to her cooking.

My phone chirped an alert at me as I passed through the door and back into the outdoor seating area. I dug it from my pocket. Nothing that Zee hadn’t already warned me about, just the app catching up with alerts. I still needed to get back to the boat and spend some time looking at path predictions.

“Ready?” I set the to-go box on the table, picked up my plate and slid the food on it into the box, then flipped the lid closed.

Wes scooted his chair back and stood. He picked up his drink and took a last long pull on the straw, draining it. “Now I am.”

We went back to the scooter and I tucked the container of food under the bungee cord strapped across the tiny shelf at the back of the ride. Wes might end up partially sitting on it, but that was fine. It’d taste just as good squished as not.

Neither of us spoke as we put on our helmets and drove to the marina.

Concern about the storms wasn’t enough to keep my body from noticing every square inch where Wes touched me. It was all I could do to focus on the road instead of arching against him like a cat.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a long trip.

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