“Ah.” She nodded. “So now he’s an expert, right?” She tore her eyes away from his hands, only to lock her gaze with his, and that didn’t help either. She pulled her sunglasses back down.
“Exactly. I talked to Bryce last night, and according his extensive research—meaning twenty minutes on the Internet—when people fall in love it releases all sorts of chemicals, like dopamine, and it makes them do crazy, irresponsible shit because they can’t anticipate the consequences. And Bryce should know about this. He’s been married three times so far, and he’s also the biggest dope I’ve ever met.”
Ryan grinned again. She needed him to stop doing that because whatever was going on in her brain was not helpful. All the tingling and rippling and fluttering that was going on in the rest of her body wasn’t helpful either.
“Dopamine, huh? Is there an antidote?” she asked hopefully. She could use a shot if there was.
“Just time and distraction, but my dad should already be distracted. He should be solidly preoccupied with that hotel project, but obviously it hasn’t been enough to keep his mind off her.”
“Or his hands.” Tag was very touchy-feely with her sister. Even Chloe noticed.
“No kidding. I saw them say goodbye yesterday. Romeo and Juliet had an easier time parting ways. If my dad had to fall for someone, why couldn’t it have been someone in Sacramento?”
“I know, right? Why couldn’t Lilly fall for someone here? I’m trying to hook her up with one of the guys from my work crew. If we’re lucky, maybe she’ll transfer all that chemically induced haze onto someone else. Someone her age.”
“Her age? You mean sixteen?”
“You’re hilarious,” Emily said blandly. “You know she’s twenty-six. I think Matt is twenty-five, and I heard him telling the rest of my crew that he was an underwear model for a while but all the focus on his external body left him spiritually empty, so he started doing yoga and traveling, and he wound up here.”
“You have a traveling yogi on your work crew who used to be an underwear model?” Ryan did not sound happy about that, which for some reason made Emily feel more happy. Sure, his seemingly jealous reaction could be nothing more than pride and male ego, but the fact that he cared that there was at least one other attractive male in her life? Well. Yeah. It made her more happy.
“Yes, and he’s very charming and, oh my gosh, handsome as hell.” She said that just to poke at him a little more. That was for her pride and her ego.
He rolled his eyes and fanned his face with one hand. “Charming and handsome. Oh, stop. You’re getting me all dewy over here. He sounds dreamy.”
Awesome. She had a guy on her work crew who used to be a model. An underwear model? A charming, handsome underwear model? He did not like that at all. But what business was that of his? She could have fifteen underwear models waiting at her beck and call back in San Antonio for all he knew. But somehow, he didn’t think she did.
Ryan had his doubts about some of the stuff his brother said. In fact, he had his doubts about virtually everything Bryce said, but his brother might be onto something with this brain chemical nonsense. In fact, what he’d said over the phone last evening had made alarmingly good sense because whatever Ryan had going on his own brain these days, there had to be a reason for it. His attraction to Emily was a little overwhelming and a lot out of character for him. So to learn there was some scientific, biological reason for his state of mind was a bit of a relief. Now that he knew that, he could face it head-on and tackle it. He was smart enough to understand that as soon as he left this island, he’d forget all about her. In the meantime, he just had to stay on the alert and not listen to the dope inside of his brain. Which was always a good policy.
Unfortunately, she had on a little pair of denim shorts, and damn he loved a little pair of denim shorts.
“You can meet him if you want,” she said. “You said you wanted to come see the cottage I’m working on. Want to stop over on Monday? Do some of that pro bonnnno work you mentioned?” She drew out the word, teasing him into thinking she might say boner. Not that he was thirteen and the kind of guy who got a funky kick out of hearing a girl say quasi-naughty words, but the reality was, at that very moment, he and Emily Chambers were both thinking about erections. Which, naturally, made him think about his own. And so he blushed, just as if she’d shouted the word to the table next to them.
“I would enjoy that very much,” he said, as neutrally as possible, but she laughed anyway. “But it can’t be Monday. Tag is insisting I take a flight lesson with him on Monday.”
“A flight lesson? Is he a pilot? Oh, wait. Let me guess. He watched a TED Talk on it once.” She wrapped her lips around the straw of her iced tea and took a drink.
Was she flirting with him? It seemed like she was flirting with him. He usually had pretty good radar for stuff like this, but maybe on this remote island, like the spotty Wi-Fi in his hotel, his radar just wasn’t working. Stupid brain chemicals.
“Fortunately, there have been actual lessons involved this time,” Ryan answered. “And we’ll be going with an instructor. I’ll just be observing, but I should probably get my affairs in order before I go, just in case. If I show up on Tuesday with two broken legs, you can guess how it went.”
“Well, hey, Peach. Fancy seeing you here.” A swirl of colors appeared in Ryan’s peripheral vision before he turned and saw a woman in a tie-dyed jumper and lime-green high-top tennis shoes.
“Hi, Gloria,” Emily said, a look of concern coming to her face. “How are you?”
The woman gave a sigh that included a frowny face, a flop of her hands, and even a little stomp of one foot.
“I’ll tell you, Peach. Do you ever have one of those days when you’re in a bad mood but you’re not sure why so you just keep looking around for someone to argue with? That’s the kind of day I’m having.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Gloria. Have you met my friend Ryan?”
The woman extended a white-gloved hand. “Pleased to meet you. Do you have any issues you feel strongly about that you might want to pick a fight with me over?”
“Um, no?” This coffee shop attracted the strangest patrons.
She sighed again. “Oh, fine. I’ll keep looking. By the way, Peach, Bethany Markum is hosting drunk puzzle night tonight if you want to come. Seven o’clock. Sorry, mister. No dudes allowed.”
The tie-dye slowly faded from his view. He looked back at Emily. “Drunk puzzle night?
She smiled. “I didn’t realize they were still doing them.”
“What the hell is drunk puzzle night?” he asked.
“Pretty much like it sounds. You sit around a table working on a puzzle, and if you find a piece that fits, you make somebody drink a shot. In all the times I’ve done it, we’ve yet to finish a puzzle.”