They glided closer to the slip and she risked a second look at Jace. His expression remained fierce and he stood with legs braced, his arms crossed over his chest, his narrowed gaze glued to her face. Uh-oh. Had she heard right? Had he just shouted she was grounded? Nobody had ever yelled at her like that before. It had made her stomach jump, just a little, but that was nothing compared to the rolls and somersaults it had made after she’d climbed into the boat with Colton. It had been an easy thing to dash undetected into the house for the keys and even easier to hand them over to the tanned boy unwinding the mooring ropes from the cleats. Clearly, he knew what he was doing. Next, they’d reversed out of the berth, cruised past the five-mile-per-hour buoys, then hit free water. There, he’d set the boat on “Fly.” At least it had felt that way to London.
