It Happened One Summer (Bellinger Sisters, #1)

by Tessa Bailey

She had a reputation as a good time. Someone to covet. An “it girl.” If she didn’t have her social status, what did she have?

“Word to the wise, Piper. The men in Westport … they’re not what you’re used to. They’re unpolished and direct. Capable in a way the men of your acquaintance … aren’t.” Her gaze grew distant. “Their job is dangerous and they don’t care how much it scares you, they go back to the sea every time. They’ll always choose it over a woman. And they’d rather die doing what they love than be safe at home.”

“Real estate prices,” he echoed. “That kind of talk belongs in LA. Not here.” Piper rolled her eyes. “What is it like having such an accurate sense of where things belong? And who belongs where?” Still scouting for critters, she said absently, “I can be in a room full of people that I know and still not feel like I belong.”

As a seaman, Brendan was all about luck. He knew he could only control so much.

“Don’t go sniffing around the older one. Piper,” Brendan muttered. “And don’t ask me to explain why, either.”

“Women are protective. Nurturing. A boat is given the name of a woman in the hopes that she’ll protect the crew. And hopefully put a good word in with the other important woman in our lives, the ocean.”

Brendan sighed up at the ceiling. “Well, I didn’t seem to have any damn problems until you two showed up and started pointing them out.”

A fisherman’s life was rooted in tradition and he’d always taken comfort in that. Protocols might change, but the rhythm of the ocean didn’t. The songs remained the same, sunsets were reliable and eternal, the tides would always shift and pull.

Would he ever give up the more dangerous aspects of his job? No. No, battling the tides, the current, the waves was his life’s work. There was salt water running through his veins.

Brendan had always thought battling the ocean would forever be his biggest challenge. But that was before he met Piper.

“I am. I’m here. At this table. In Westport.” She swallowed. “Trying to figure out what to do when no one is watching. And wondering if maybe that’s the stuff that actually matters.”

“Fuck me. You can be as high maintenance as you want, honey. But I’m the only one who does the maintenance.”

She was from Southern freaking California, where the sun shined and, other than fog, weather was just a vague entity people in other states had to worry about.

Truth.

If he was honest with himself, it had been trying to tell him Piper would be important from the second he saw her in her floppy hat through the window of No Name.

“When I hug you?” Fuck. His heart was turning over and over like a car engine. “My hugs are your recharging station?”

She’s … impossible to ignore.” He’d made it all of one day, hadn’t he? Less? Before she’d started feeling … inevitable.

He could put every ounce of his effort into keeping Piper, and she still might leave. Could dance off into the sunset at a moment’s notice and go back to her extravagant life, leaving him reeling. And that terrified him the most.

Me and my stupid routines. I thought I had it all figured out until you made me start breaking them. I want to keep breaking them with you.”

“Piper, the man looks at you like … he’s full of cracks and you’re the glue.

“I’ll love you until my heart gives out.