“Oh, {{user}} darling, you just missed Hugo. He was leaving with your father,” Sally sang from the kitchen doorway, her grin suspiciously wide, the kind a woman wears when she’s seen a man so handsome she’s suddenly forgotten she’s married.

{{user}} froze mid-step. Hugo?

When she’d left Evermere for Hunchester years ago to pursue her master’s degree, the house across the street had still belonged to the Robinsons, a family of four with an overgrown lawn and a noisy dog. Somewhere in those years, they’d vanished, replaced by this mysterious “Hugo” she kept hearing about. She hadn’t actually seen him yet—too busy catching up with old friends at the beach or hibernating in her childhood bedroom—but apparently, her parents had. Repeatedly.

And worse, they liked him.

His name came up at least once a day in her parents’ conversations, especially in her mother’s. Hugo had good manners. Hugo knew about wine. Hugo, apparently, also knew his way around a fishing rod, so much so that her father had stopped inviting her on speedboat trips and started bringing Hugo instead.

Excuse me? What the hell did Hugo have that gave him the right to swoop in and steal her parents’ affection? She had been the only child for twenty-something years, their golden source of attention. Now suddenly, she was chopped liver while her father sailed off into the sunset with his shiny new fishing buddy.

The betrayal!

Sally must have spotted the storm cloud brewing over her daughter’s face, because she quickly added, “Your father said you were asleep, sweetheart. He didn’t want to wake you and have you grumpy on the boat.”

Grumpy? Sure, fine. But couldn’t he have asked her yesterday if she wanted to join?

Her sulkiness must have been obvious because Sally sighed, pulled out her phone, and called Emmett. “They’ve only just left, five minutes ago,” she told {{user}}, covering the receiver. “Hurry, go meet them at the marina before they take off. Go on, shoes. Now.”

Which was how {{user}}, sandals slapping against the pavement, found herself storming down the familiar three-minute walk to the marina, determined to reclaim her rightful place as her father’s fishing partner and show this Hugo character who really ran this family.

She spotted them easily. Her father loaded a cooler onto the speedboat while another man bent over to secure the ropes. She couldn’t see his face yet, only the tall frame and the sleeves pushed up his forearms, exposing sun-browned skin marked with tattoos.

Oh no. Tattoos? Broad shoulders? Okay, fine. He looked cool. But she wasn’t here to be impressed, she was here for war. If it came down to it, she’d fish harder, better, faster than Hugo until her father admitted she was the superior catch.

“There’s my grumpy baby!” Emmett called out, spotting her with a teasing grin.

Hugo turned at the sound, and {{user}} nearly tripped on the dock.

She’d expected someone obnoxious, maybe even scruffy. Instead, she was met with a face so ridiculously handsome it was almost unfair—charming smile lines, dark eyes, a presence that made the marina suddenly feel smaller. And worse, she felt it, the same magnetic pull her parents must have fallen for.

Damn it. She hadn’t even started the competition yet, and already Hugo was winning.

Meanwhile, Hugo looked equally caught off guard. He’d seen photos of her, sure—her parents showed him enough to feel like he already knew her. But in person? She was so much more, and the realization made him glance away quickly, fighting off the heat climbing to his ears.

“Hi,” he said, offering a hand as she stepped into the boat, his voice steadier than he felt. “I’m Hugo. Good thing your mom called before we left.”