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“Oh, that’s too bad.” In spite of the strength of Kellyjean’s grip, I tugged to pull my arm free. “I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“I brought it.” Kellyjean patted her gigantic beach bag while keeping hold of my arm. “I took it out of your room last night while I was setting up my diffuser, since I knew you’d forget it. Wasn’t that smart of me? Now you have no excuse not to come with us.”

Bernadette, to whom I flung one last desperate glance forhelp, only smiled at me. “Sorry, Jo,” she said with a shrug. “It’s on the itinerary.”

I gave up. Kitty Katz knew when it was ungracious to turn down an invitation—even an invitation she was dreading—and so did I.

“Gee, great,” I said, faking an enormous smile. “I can’t wait.”

The Momentby Will Price

We made love on the floor in front of the fire. Our bodies met like long-lost friends, our limbs entwined, our lips clinging. Her hair hung around my face like a shimmering waterfall of liquid gold, the smell of her filling my senses like an opiate. For a while, I forgot what I had done.

Afterward, though, when she lay panting against my bare chest, and the flames in the fireplace had died to only a red glow, I remembered.

Chapter Sixteen

LITTLE BRIDGE BOOK FESTIVAL ITINERARY FOR:JO WRIGHT

Saturday, January 4, 2:30 p.m.–4:30 p.m.

- Sailing AboardThe Moment-

Will Price invites fellow authors for a sail around Little Bridge Island aboard his 60’ catamaran. Lunch will be served.

Okay. The boat was pretty cool.

What was I saying? The boat wasamazing.

I’d never been on a boat before, unless you counted the boat to the immigration museum on Ellis Island, which every kid who goes to school in New York City eventually ends up taking.

But that was just a ferryboat, and it had only gone back and forth across the Hudson River.

This was a multimillion-dollar catamaran sliding across the crystal-blue sea off the coast of Florida. The bright sun shone down on my bare arms as the warm wind whipped the hair that had come loose from my ponytail. As I leaned against the rail, watching the water glide beneath us—so clear that I could see the sandy bottom and seaweed beneath us—I felt as if all the worries and snarky thoughts in my head were being blown away by the beautiful tropical breeze.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this happy. Maybe never?

The weirdest part was that I’d basically been forced onto this boat against my will, and yet I didn’t care. Not only did I not care, Ilovedit.

“Can you believe this?” Bernadette, a plastic cup of rosé in one hand, a plate of what was being served for lunch down in the galley—delicately fried conch fritters, lemon herb chicken wings, roasted vegetable quinoa salad, watermelon and strawberry kebabs—in the other, made her way toward me. She’d changed from her book panel clothes into a one-piece and shorts, even throwing on the bright yellow Little Bridge Book Festival visor that had been in our swag bag (to protect her face from the sun, she said).

That’s right, Bernadette Zhang, author of the dystopian monster hit Crown and Stars series, was wearing avisor.

“It’samazing,” I said.

We were headed for what Will had called “one of his favorite spots,” which apparently took some navigating to get to. The island of Little Bridge was shrinking behind us. Ahead stretched only water—but water unlike any I’d ever seenbefore. Ribbons of turquoise and aquamarine and the palest green—other places almost white, the water was so shallow, the sand beneath it shimmering in the hot midday sun—surrounded us. Occasionally a small island of green popped up from the horizon like an oasis in a desert.

“Mangroves,” Bernadette explained. Always in educator mode, Bernadette read from her phone about what we were seeing. “They thrive in areas of low tide and provide essential habitats for a myriad of wildlife, including wading birds. Hey! We might see a flamingo!”

But none of these mangroves appeared to be Will’s special spot, since he was steering around them.

That was the other thing: Will didn’t have a hired crew or anything. He was steering his own boat.

Was there something sexy about a guy behind the wheel of a large and powerful boat?

A guy who looked like Will? Yeah, okay, I’ll admit it: Yes. Yes, there was.

“So, aren’t you glad now that Kellyjean talked you into coming?” Bernadette set down her lunch plate and attempted to photograph a particularly lovely patch of shimmering blue water that stretched to meet the equally blue sky at the horizon—two blues so deep that you could hardly tell where one stopped and the other began.