Page 8 of Just My Style

Her face turns the shade of a steamed lobster as she mounts her bike. She pedals with all her might—and runs right into the trashcan again.

I stare down at her, where she and the bike lay in the sand. “Perhaps I could help you turn the bike away from the trashcan,” I offer, pointing down the beach. “I could get you started that way.”

“No, thank you,” she says, once again dusting off sand and climbing onto the bike. “I don’t need any help from you.”

She struggles to turn the bike around, the front wheel remaining stuck to the metal grooves of the garbage can. I reach out for a handlebar to pull the bike away from the trashcan once and for all.

She smacks my hand away. “Stop that. I said I didn’t need your help.”

“Unfortunately, I could have used yours,” I grumble.

She plants her feet on the ground on either side of the bike and glances back at me. “What?”

“I still need a partner for Hank Heron Appreciation Week,” I point out.

“Oh,” she says, glancing toward the ocean. “You still want my help, even knowing who I am?”

I nod. “Sure, as long as your hand isn’t too injured, and you’ll be staying in town. You mentioned going to Mexico?”

She laughs. “With this ugly thing?” She winces in pain as she makes a fist, showcasing the back of her bruised hand. “I was fired.”

“I’m confused,” I admit.

For the first time, her face breaks into a genuine smile. Once again, I’m struck with how beautiful she is. There’s no shortage of gorgeous women in the world, but Cara is something else. She carries herself like a movie star, but she has luscious curves that tend to be absent in Hollywood—and I am here for it. Her long, thick hair looks incredibly touchable, and her eyes sparkle with each word she speaks.

“I’m a hand model,” she explains. “I was set to start a big job in Mexico today. An important job that was set to last two years. But the bruised hand knocked me out of the game.”

“Oh,” I say, realization dawning. “So, when I thought you were being dramatic…”

She sighs. “Well, to be fair, I’m sure it did seem like an overreaction. But I was crushed.” She glances away again. “Still am.”

I nod slowly. “So, it’s still a ‘no’ to teaming up this week?”

She chews on her lower lip. “I don’t know. Margo and Tuck tell me you’re a good guy, and deep down, I know losing the job wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. But it’s still fresh, you know? When I look at you, the crushing wave of disappointment washes over me.”

I wince. “Ouch. But I think I know what you mean.” I scratch my chin thoughtfully. “This morning, we’re supposed to be working on the scavenger hunt, right? So, what if I go one way, and you go the other. We’ll each take pictures of the scavenger items we find.”

She nods. “I can do that. Where do I find the list?”

I explain how she can look up the list on the Hank Heron Foundation’s website, and we set off in opposite directions. It’s not ideal, but it’ll help me complete the passport. When Jared flaked on me, I think he expected me to give up. That’s not happening, even if I have to do it all by myself. But it’ll save a lot of time if Cara helps me out.

Plus, I got her phone number. Just to exchange scavenger hunt photos but still. It’s a start.

I look over my shoulder at her. She’s abandoned the bike and is walking at the water’s edge, looking as graceful as Hank Heron himself. It’s a bummer that she’s decided to hate me. But she’s helping anyway.

A smile spreads across my face. She may come around. Stranger things have happened.

And if I can get her to change her opinion of me, maybe I can change Jared’s too.

Chapter 6

Victor

My watch beeps, alerting me to the time. I need to get to the office. As the only doctor on the island, my medical practice stays busy. I glance around for Cara, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I shoot her a quick her a quick text to say that I’m heading to work, and that I’ll follow up later to figure out when to complete the scavenger hunt and other tasks on the Friendly Beach Passport.

When I arrive at the office, my first patient of the day, Chief Cooper, is waiting for me outside the door. He’s been Friendly’s chief of police for decades, and he’s married to mayor of the town. Mayor Tuck, Jared’s grandmother, has also been in the position for decades. They’re as friendly—and as Friendly—as people come.

Unfortunately, there are three women standing in line behind Coop, and each is carrying a covered dish. I resist the urge to groan, pasting a smile on my lips