Mary stared at him. “I thought it was just some broken ribs,” she said in outrage.
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Neal said seriously. “There was nothing either of us could do about it.”
Mary’s eyes were flinty. “I would have appreciated being in the loop anyway.”
Neal squirmed under her scrutiny. “How about I put on my clothes and we go back to the resort for a good meal before you read me the riot act.”
Travis and Bastian smothered snickers.
“I’ve got some energy bars,” Bastian offered peaceably.
“I’ve got spare pants,” Travis added.
Neal suspected that the boat ride back would have been more uncomfortable if Mary had not been immediately enraptured with the whole affair.
Mindful of her previous fear of boats, he offered her a seat in the middle, but she quickly gravitated towards the edge, looking over the edge at the rippling sea bed below them and squeaking and holding on to him every time that they bounced over a particularly large wave. The resort boat was not the most modern vessel, but it made short work of the journey back to Shifting Sands, and was too loud to allow easy conversation at its top speed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mary climbed out of the boat onto the dock with a grin. “I want to do that again sometime,” she told Neal, as he climbed out behind her and took her hand. She wasn’t sure why she had ever been afraid of it. “But maybe a shower first?”
“Then you want to go straight back out on the boat?”
“Then the buffet,” she laughed. “For a few hours.”
“Yes,” Neal agreed merrily.
“Maybe not,” Travis cautioned as they walked up the dock to the beach.
Neal sobered with alarming speed, eyes narrow. “What’s up?”
Travis glanced at Mary, who tried to look serious and trustworthy back at him. “Beehag’s heir Benedict is still here. He brought an… investor.”
“Investor?” Neal blinked.
“The investor isn’t exactly the savory type, and he’s interested in buying the island and ending the lease with the resort. Renegotiating, they’re calling it.”
Neal whistled. “Scarlet can’t be happy about that.”
“That’s an understatement,” Travis agreed. “And that would be tense enough…”
“Do they know about the shifters?” Neal guessed.
“No one is sure,” Travis explained. “But these guys are bad news.”
“Beehag’s seed didn’t fall far from the asshole tree,” Neal growled.
“There you go with the understatements again.”
Travis paused at the bottom of the steps up from the beach. “It’s not an easy time,” he cautioned. “Everyone is on edge, and there are a lot of… bodyguards that came with the investors. Armed bodyguards. Creepy, well-armed bodyguards who are not exactly acting respectful of the guests.” Travis nodded at Mary. “Especially the female guests,” he added apologetically.
Mary felt Neal’s hand tense in hers.
“Probably mercenaries,” Neal guessed from the description. “Have there been any incidents?”
“Nothing worse than leering,” Travis said, to Mary’s relief. “But it could get awkward if they said the wrong thing to Magnolia and she took offense. On the upside, Virginia finally put on clothes and stopped draping herself over the furniture like meat.”
“That’s a sign of dire times,” Neal observed dryly.