breeze. She lay still, her eyes tracing the familiar shapes-scallops, clams, a single abalone she'd found as a kid-but her mind was elsewhere, tangled in the memory of yesterday's tide

d, loud and unyielding, despi

laire's husband. But the truth was a stubborn tide, pulling her under: Evan Caldwell f

The voice was bright, brash, unmistakably Mia Torres, her best frien

of bed, forcing a smile.

bun, her paint-splattered overalls a testament to her latest art project. At twenty-two, Mia was a whirlwind of sarcasm and loyalty, an art student

id, thrusting a cup at Lila. "You l

e warmth against her hands. "Just...

"Uh-huh. Spill, Harper. You've got that look-

omise. The ocean stretched below, a mirror of blues and greens, and Lila sank into a chair, clutching her latt

dy? Is it school? That internship? Or-" she grinned, wicked

s, avoiding Mia's gaze. "It's not a guy," she said

blush. Come on, I've known you since we were sneaki

ain the way Evan's presence made her feel like she was floating and drowning at once? The way his laugh lit her up, the way his touc

ever around, and Evan's... he's not what I expected a

how? Like, he's too nice? Or he's secretly a serial killer

serial killer. He's just... easy to talk to. We went to the

"Okay, hold up. You're getting that dreamy look, and I'm not sure I like where th

softening. "I'm not stupid, Mia. It's just... I don't know how to explain it. He sees

s a good guy. Charming, stupidly handsome, all that. But you've gotta be careful,

yes stinging. "I know. I'm not doing anything. It's

. Just... keep your head on straight. You're Lila Harper, future ocean-savin

ld push this away, lock it up somewhere deep. But the thought of Evan's smile, the way he

his hair still slightly damp, and Lila's breath caught at the sight of him. "Morning, Mia," he said, his smi

said, her voice steadier

Lila, his eyes lingering a moment too long, and her heart did tha

layful but her eyes sharp, watching him. "W

tance away. "Just trying to capture the light o

ed to ask what he saw in the waves, what made him choose this moment to draw, but Mia's

Evan, how's life as the resident artist? Claire

mile wry. "She's got her hands full, that's fo

, leaving little room for anything else. She wondered, not for the first time, what had drawn Evan to her mother. C

inning. "Maybe join Lila on her next tide po

hed, his eyes meeting hers. "I could

l water, sending ripples through her. She looked away, focusi

a canvas calling my name. Lila, meet me at The Salty

ul for the shift in focus

an. "Don't burn the house down

d, his grin easy but

thicker. Lila clutched her coffee, searching for s

dered in soft, sweeping lines, but it was the horizon that caught her eye-a delicate

quieter now. "It's not don

rent, pulling them closer. "Maybe it's perfect as it is,"

st them-the sea, the sketch, the ache in her chest. The sound of a car pulli

she said, standing too qu

brushed hers, a fleeting touch that felt like a spark in the salt

he foyer, bright and distracted, but Lila barely heard it. All she could think of was Evan's