IT HAD BEEN LESS than twenty-four hours since I saw Quinn Castle walk into Sunny's, and I'd already lost my goddamn mind.

I could justify keeping her in my bed last night to ensure she didn't get too sick. And I could justify inviting her out to the beach while she wore that yellow torture device. But barging into her bathroom like that?

What the hell was wrong with me?

Thank fuck she'd been wearing her swimsuit because I was pretty sure if I'd walked in to see Quinn Castle naked in the shower, I wouldn't have known how to function. Looking at her with that wet little bikini plastered to her skin was a challenge enough. Considering how all the blood in my body rushed to my dick the moment I stepped into that bathroom, I'd been so close to giving her a really good idea of those measurements of mine.

Shaking my head in disbelief and disappointment in myself, I opened the refrigerator door to take stock of what was in there before I headed to the store. Just as I finished my mental checklist, Quinn's footsteps alerted me, followed by a loud sigh as she neared the kitchen.

I closed the fridge to find her rounding the corner, wearing loose jeans and a yellow tank top with spaghetti straps and buttons up the front. She looked like the fucking summer sun. And it made me want to jump back into the shower and blast cold water all over my body.

"Was that a sigh of relief?" I asked, cocking a brow. "That you made it out of the shower alive? Maybe I should have stayed to supervise."

I definitely shouldn't have.

Leaving had been the right choice because if I hadn't left...Well, I couldn't think about that. Because Quinn had already eyed up my cock today, and I didn't need it to grow and give her another reason to stare at it.

It liked having her eyes on it way too fucking much.

"No," she snorted. "I'm just relieved that you're–"

She cut herself off, and curiosity got the best of me.

"That I...?"

"Nevermind."

God, she knew just how to keep me frustrated.

"I'm gonna head to the store," I said, deciding not to pester her further. It was probably better that I didn't know what she was going to say.

"I thought we were going to the store."

Yeah, that had been my plan. Until I'd walked out of her shower and back to my room, only to realize how fucking hard it was to be around this woman and keep my head on straight. As soon as I'd closed my bedroom door, I'd replayed what I'd done. What I'd said.

Again, what the hell was wrong with me?

Quinn wasn't here so I could flirt with her. She was here to do her job.

"You don't need to come," I insisted. "I won't be gone long."

"I want to come," she argued. Of-fucking-course, she argued. "It would be good for me to see more of the town. See what just a run-of-the-mill trip to the grocery store is like for you."

I barely resisted rolling my eyes.

Because it would not be a run-of-the-mill trip to the grocery store. Not with Quinn tagging along. Nothing about this arrangement was ordinary. And I didn't know how to act normal with an annoyingly pretty New York reporter following me around. Especially when other people would undoubtedly notice the annoyingly pretty New York reported following me around.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I thought she should stay here.

"Are you sure you don't want to...I don't know, curl up with a good book until I return?" I offered, but not feeling entirely hopeful.

Quinn frowned. "As nice as that sounds, I didn't come here for vacation, Fletcher."

"Right," I grunted. "You came here to follow me to the grocery store."

She flashed a megawatt smile at me. "Exactly."

|||

"I can pay for the groceries," Quinn said as soon as we walked into Evergreen Isle's only grocery store.

Like everything on the island, wooden coastal shingles covered the outer walls, giving it a charm that screamed beach town. It wasn't much more than a shack nestled in the main drag of Evergreen, but it was comforting.

"You're not paying for the groceries, Castle."

"Why not?" she countered. "It's the least I can do, considering you're letting me stay with you."

"It's not like you're choosing to be here," I argued. "And you won't be here for that long."

Soon she'd be back off galavanting in New York while wearing all her bright yellow clothes in a sunless office building. Fucking Parker would try to win her over again, and I'd be here, sitting in the white sands of South Carolina.

I was too busy thinking about it to realize that Quinn had gone oddly quiet, and I looked over to find her biting on her lip as we strolled through the first aisle, passing through the jars of jelly and peanut butter.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." She flashed a wary smile that I didn't believe for a goddamn second. "Just trying to figure out how to secretly pay for dinner."

"Stop trying." I scowled. "It's not going to work."

Call me old fashioned, but when I had dinner with a woman, I took care of it. And while tonight couldn't be further from a date, I still felt like I had a responsibility. To Quinn. To make sure she was taken care of on this little island. She wouldn't be stuck here if it weren't for me. Besides, she was living off the shit salary the Warriors likely paid her while I had more money than I'd ever need.

She wasn't fucking paying.

She tsked, clucking her tongue, and I withheld a groan.

"What now?"

"I think you need to improve your teamwork."

"Teamwork?" I repeated. I must have heard her wrong. "Castle, I led a fucking multi-billion dollar franchise to two Super Bowl wins. I think I know a thing or two about teamwork."

She made a humming noise in the back of her throat while dragging her fingers along the wooden shelves. "Well, if we're going to get through this, and I'm going to get this article written, I need you to work with me. Not against me."

I stared at her, brows drawn. "What does that have to do with letting you pay for dinner?"

She shrugged. "Because we should be working together to make dinner, but you're arguing with me about it."

"I have no problem letting you help me make it."

Although dancing around my kitchen with this summer sun had to be a bad idea. Especially after earlier.

A cheery laugh floated from her lips, brightening the grocery store. "Ah, so it's just the money you're controlling about."

I sighed, pausing in the middle of the aisle. "Castle."

She walked a few paces ahead before realizing I'd stopped. Turning around, she smiled. "Yeah?"

"You're here in my hometown and staying at my house," I said, trying to be as direct as possible. "As you've pointed out, I'm not exactly known for my hospitality. But at least let me try to be a good host."

Her eyes grew round as that smile of hers flickered, unsure. A little surprise, and maybe even regret, coated her irises, but a second later, the amusement was back. She started walking backward down the aisle, almost like she was taunting me to follow her.

And of course I was going to.

"If you want me to write that you were a gracious host in the article, you can just say that," she teased.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't give a flying fuck about what you write in that article."

She faltered. "You don't?"

I shook my head.

"Not at all?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

Shit.

It was my turn to let regret seep into my bones. Because based on her wilting expression, I'd put my foot in my mouth.

And I supposed I couldn't really blame her for being ticked. Writing was her livelihood, and I'd just said I didn't give a flying fuck about it. That was like someone walking up to me and saying they didn't give a shit whether I won or lost games.

"Castle–"

"No, I get it." But she turned the corner of the aisle far too quickly, making me think she was trying to hide her expression from me. I rushed after her, but she'd schooled the look on her face by the time I caught up. "So, what's for dinner?"

"I–"

"Let me guess. It's something on the grill."

I'd wanted to apologize for what I'd said, but she threw me off. Again. When I lifted a brow, she merely shrugged it off.

"You just seem like the grilling type. When men say they can cook, they usually just mean they can stick meat on a hot grate."

Her words were a bit clipped, and I had a feeling she was unconsciously taking little jabs at me because of the big jab I'd taken at her.

I didn't like it.

Not because I cared about what she thought about my cooking abilities. I'd prove her wrong about that soon enough.

No, I didn't like it because it meant Quinn felt defensive. I'd made her feel small when everything about her was oddly larger than life.

So I took the jab without comment.

"You're half right," I allowed.

She pursed her lips, waiting for me to go on.

"I was thinking about making homemade pizza on the grill," I explained. "I have a really nice Pinot in my cellar that would pair great with it on a night like tonight."

Her mouth opened and closed, so I leaned closer to whisper against her ear.

"But if you want to see me slap some meat around, I can do that, too."

She cleared her throat, a rosy flush working up her neck before flooding her cheeks. "Homemade pizza sounds great."

I couldn't help the smile that wormed its way onto my face as I led Quinn to the aisle with the ingredients we needed. "If you have another idea, I'm open to suggestions," I said, glancing over my shoulder at her.

Her lips twitched. "Now you're just trying to prove you can be a good teammate."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I grabbed a bag of mozzarella and tossed it to her. "It comes naturally for me."

Quinn rolled her eyes as she caught the cheese, but I could see how tempted she was to smile. "Pizza sounds good, Fletcher."

"Excellent."

We fell into a natural rhythm after that. Quinn followed me around the store, peppering me with questions about the town. I tried to answer without too much groaning as I grabbed all the items we'd need. And luckily, it was empty enough in the store that I didn't encounter anyone who dared to talk to me.

But that didn't mean there weren't people around who recognized me. People who would undoubtedly run their mouths about the pretty brunette in the grocery store with August Fletcher. And while I didn't care what people thought about me, I didn't like bringing attention to Quinn. She didn't deserve to get sucked into the rumor mill.

Even if, technically, she was a part of it.

Relief washed over me as soon as we returned to my truck. We'd made it through one public outing without causing a scene. I knew it wouldn't be the only one if Quinn truly intended to get a picture of my life here on Evergreen. But for now, it was just the two of us again.

And all I could do was hope that I'd make it through the night without doing something I shouldn't.

☀️

a/n:

happy monday! hope you enjoyed another peek into August's mind 🫶🏻

thanks for reading!
xoxo amelie