Free Can't Get Over You (Fortune's Island, Book 2) by Shirley Jump

looked over at Sophie, but she was buried in the phone and didn’t notice.
    Brian didn’t have to worry about some dog trying to pick up his sister. Not unless they were a walking laptop or iPhone.
    Brian and Carter joined Sophie at the gangplank. She looked up at them, and flashed a quick smile in Brian’s direction, then went right back to her phone. “You know you’re supposed to be on vacation, right?” Brian said. “That means not working for a little while.”
    “I just have this one brief to review and then—”
    “I’m going to throw your briefcase into the water.” Brian arched a brow. “And you know I will.”
    Sophie sighed. “Fine.” She tucked her phone into the front pocket her briefcase, but Carter could see by the stiff set of her shoulders and the thinning of her lips that she was not happy about it at all.
    “Soon as we get off this boat, I’m putting a drink in your hands,” Brian said. When his sister started to protest, he put up a finger. “First rule of vacation—” He glanced over at Carter.
    “Thou shalt drink early and often.” Carter finished the familiar refrain between him and Brian.
    Sophie rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you two a little old for that?”
    “And aren’t you a little young to be living like a workaholic?”
    “Says the pot who keeps calling the kettle black instead of looking in the mirror.” She blew her bangs out of her face with a chuff, then turned to Carter. “Talk to him, will you? And get him off my case.”
    Carter was so stunned that Sophie had addressed him, it took him a second to respond. “He won’t listen to me any better than he listens to you.” Carter grinned. “Brian’s a bit of a…”
    “Bossypants,” Sophie supplied.
    Carter laughed. “Exactly.”
    Brian scowled. “I am not. I just want you to enjoy yourself this weekend, Sophie. Do as I say, not as I do. Or did.”
    “I will when you get off my back about it.” Sophie put up a finger, cutting off Brian’s protest. The crowd began to disembark, and the three of them followed down the gangplank, tunneling down and emerging on the pier. “Now, let’s call a truce and go get a drink.”
    “About damned time,” Brian muttered.
    They grabbed a cab at the stand by the ferry office, then headed south, away from the uppercrust northern area of the island. The cabin his dad had rented to Carter’s friends was just a half mile from The Love Shack, which meant pretty much everything they did today would be within walking distance. On the weekends he was on the island, Carter usually stayed with his parents, in the small bungalow where he and Jillian had grown up. It was prime beachfront property, something his father could have sold for five times what he bought it for, but Whit Matheson loved the little house that he and Grace had lived in all their married lives, and would never sell it.
    The cab pulled up in front of The Love Shack, and the three of them disembarked. It was early yet—just past four—which meant The Love Shack was mostly empty. As much as Carter loved living on the mainland, there was just something about walking into The Love Shack that felt like coming home.
    “Carter, you’re here.” His mother came rushing forward, and cupped his face in her soft hands. “I’ve missed you.”
    Carter chuckled as he stowed the group’s weekend bags in the corner. “I was here last weekend. That was less than five days ago.”
    “I still miss you.” She drew back and wagged a finger at him. His mother was tiny, but a powerful woman who loved her kids with a fierceness that a mother lion would envy. “You have your own kids and you will see. Every time one of your kids come home, it’s like God restored a part of your heart.”
    Carter pressed a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek. “Love you, Mom.”
    “Love you, too.” She reached out and drew Brian into a hug, then Sophie. “Welcome to Fortune’s Island, and to The Love Shack. Any friend of Carter’s is