Page 32 of Back to Square One

Justine’s grin was proud, and Rowan knew she’d asked the right question. “I baked it partially first, then added the blueberries late.”

“Brilliant. It’s delicious.”

Jazzy nodded in agreement, and Justine’s smile was wide as she headed back inside. “I’d be big as a house if Becca could cook like that.”

“Becca can’t cook at all,” Rowan said.

“Facts.”

They sat and ate in silence for a few minutes, and soon, Rowan could see the canoe coming into view. But instead of Evie and Claire, as she’d expected, it was Claire and Becca. Her brain immediately wondered where Evie was—had she gone out fishing with Stevie and Lizzie?—but then she shook it away. It didn’t matter where Evie was. Evie was none of her business. She’d be smart to keep that in mind.

“Where’s Evie?” she asked out loud, as if her mouth had a mind of its own. Annoyance at herself set in like a snap of her fingers.

“Sleeping in.” Jazzy chewed and swallowed her last bite. “Claire said she wasn’t feeling well.”

And now she was worried. It wasn’t something she could help. She couldn’t stop the feeling, much as she wanted to. It was as if it was ingrained in her, worrying about Evie. She sighed, and Jazzy looked over at her.

“You okay?”

Rowan finished her breakfast and gave a nod. “Fine.” She glanced around, the heat already beginning to feel thick. Her eyes landed on the square floating off the dock. “It’s warm this morning. I’m gonna go for a swim, I think.”

Jazzy snorted. “Yeah, have fun with that.”

“Not a swimmer, huh?”

“Listen, I’m fine in a pool where I can see my feet and nothing lives in there except pool toys.” She pointed at the lake. “I don’t know what’s in there, and I’d rather not find out because it nibbled on my leg.”

Rowan laughed softly. “Fair enough. All set?” She stood and put out a hand for Jazzy’s empty plate. Inside, she rinsed both plates, put them into the dishwasher, refilled her coffee, and took it upstairs with her. At the top of the staircase, she turned right toward her own room, but glanced over her shoulder at the closed door opposite. Before she could stop herself or even make sense of what she was doing, she’d crossed to it and tapped gently on Evie’s door.

“Evie?” she called softly. “You okay?”

“What are you doing?”

The voice startled her enough that her arm jerked and she nearly spilled hot coffee on herself. She turned to see Claire at the top of the stairs, heading her way.

Rowan cleared her throat. “Just seeing if Evie’s okay.”

“She’s fine. Just tired.” Claire moved in front of Rowan and put her hand on the doorknob.

“Okay. I was just checking.”

“She’s fine.”

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, and Rowan got the distinct impression Claire was actively trying to soften her stance, as if she thought she’d been harsh and was now backing off.

“Okay, well, just let her know I checked on her.”

“Will do.” Claire gave her one nod, went into the room, and the door clicked shut behind her.

Rowan stood there for another moment, frowning. Was Claire a bodyguard now? Why did she get to decide who got to see Evie? She blew out an irritated breath and finally turned to go into her own room and get her bathing suit on.

Women were so fucking weird.

Rowan had no recollection of buying the bathing suit she’d put on, which was strange. Any clothing she’d purchased in the past couple of years was new to her, which was kind of fun, actually. But this was a black one-piece that looked pretty good on her, so a pleasant discovery. She realized belatedly that if she planned to swim out to the floating raft thingy, she couldn’t bring anything with her—cell phone, book to read, not even a towel—that she didn’t want to get wet. It would basically just be her, and suddenly, she was one hundred percent okay with that.

On her phone, she sent a quick text to her mom, letting her know everything was fine and that Sara was arriving today. Her mother loved Stevie and loved Sara even more, so her presence would make Rowan’s mother feel that much better about her being away from home. Then she plugged her phone in, slathered herself in waterproof sunscreen, tied her auburn hair on top of her head, grabbed a towel to leave on shore, and headed downstairs. She had to force herself, but she managed to not even glance at Evie’s bedroom door, which was still closed.

Downstairs, Stevie and Lizzie were sitting at the table eating breakfast.