Summer Heat

by Sanders, Jill

  Her eyes narrowed again. “You want me to believe you?” she said, walking toward the door, but instead of walking out, she leaned against the frame. “Yet, you’re still hiding things from me.”

  “I am?” He moved over next to her, kicking his ruined shirt aside.

  Her head tilted toward him. “Liam Costa?”

  “How did you . . .” he started, but Elle’s eyes tracked the path Ryan had just retreated down.

  “Ryan told you?” he asked.

  “She told Zoey, who told me,” Elle answered. “Eventually.”

  Ryan is a bitch, he thought in his head. She’d betrayed them, even though they had promised . . . what? He realized they had strung her on for too long, and the woman had made her move. His shoulders sank slightly as he realized that he should have told Elle himself. “We have our reasons for . . .” Elle turned toward him, stopping his words. “I should have told you. Before I kissed you. I should have confessed.”

  “Yes, you should have.” She stepped off the small porch and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes running over him. The fact that there was enough heat behind her gaze to give him a sunburn sparked his smile. “You’ll need a new work shirt before you head to the pool bar.”

  “So, does that mean you forgive me?” he called out to her. When she didn’t answer, he yelled, “I’m taking that as a yes.”

  She slowly raised her left arm, extended it all the way, and gave him the bird without looking back. He laughed even harder.

  “You even do that gracefully, princess,” he said between laughs.

  After locking up the shop, he rushed back up to his room to collect another work shirt. By the time he finally stepped behind the pool bar, Britt glanced down at her watch.

  “Noted,” he said dryly. “I had to change shirts. Long story.” He picked up the chain of outstanding orders.

  “I’m all ears.” Britt edged around him and filled her share as well.

  “Later,” he said and nodded to the guests waiting.

  Almost two hours later, as guests trickled away one by one to get ready for dinner, he filled Britt in on what had happened with Ryan. Of course, he left out the kiss he’d planted on Elle.

  “I knew there was something off about that one.” Britt took a drink of her water, then waved the bottle at him. “Mark my words, she’s got a few screws loose. I’d tell Elle about her myself, but so far Ryan doesn’t even acknowledge I’m alive. Trust me, if she ever crossed me, she’d end up flat on that tiny little ass of hers.”

  He knew there was a reason he had instantly liked Britt when he had met her. She was leaning back against the bar now, listening to him.

  “Who would end up on her ass?” Elle’s voice broke in, and Liam watched Britt cringe visibly.

  “Ryan,” he answered. “I was just filling Britt in on what . . . caused me to be late to my shift.”

  Elle leaned on the bar and let out a huge sigh. “I need a shot of tequila.”

  “Sure thing, boss lady.” Britt quickly disappeared to get the drink.

  “Problems?” he asked. She was wearing the same outfit from before, but there was a dark grease stain on the front.

  “Why do people think they can have sex anywhere?” She set her chin in her palms, then took the shot of tequila that Britt had set in front of her. “Another.” Britt filled the shot glass quickly. She tossed it back, leaving the salt and lime untouched. She motioned for another as she swallowed.

  “I think two is enough.” He glanced back at Britt. “I’m going to clock out and walk our boss back to the main building.”

  “Sure thing.” Britt smiled.

  Liam took her arm and helped her stand up, making sure that once the effects of the tequila hit her, she wouldn’t fall flat on her face.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Earlier that day, Elle couldn’t help but smile and be in a good mood as she made her way down the path toward her next stop.

  Before she could go any farther, Hannah messaged her that the alarm in the boathouse was going off.

  Since she was on that side of the grounds, she texted that she’d check it out herself.

  Less than five minutes later, once she had entered the dark, damp boathouse, she was about to reach for the light switch when she heard a grunt and a groan.

  Praying it wasn’t what she thought it was, she flipped on the lights to find the Youngs in full sexual congress on top of an old tarp near the inside dock.

  She swiftly turned around with a shriek and bumped solidly into a large pulley hanging by the doorway. She reached over and switched off the lights. She didn’t want to see any more than she had already.

  She heard a chuckle behind her and retreated. “Please lock the door when you’re . . . done,” she called out before shutting the door behind her, with the image now burned into her retinas.

  Pretty sure her face was bright red, she made her way to the volleyball courts. When the couple crossed paths with her a little later, she tried to avoid looking in their direction. She’d seen more of both of them than she’d ever wanted to.

  She found it hard to concentrate on the volleyball game she was supposed to be refereeing and instead found her eyes flitting to where Liam was busy behind the bar. Remembering how he’d looked with his shirt off earlier that morning, she daydreamed about getting her hands on those muscles of his again.

  After finishing up the last volleyball game of the day, and when the guests started disappearing back to their cabins to get ready for dinner, she was called once again. This time, an alarm was going off on one of the thermostats in the massage rooms.

  Since she was nearby, she made her way to the area and noticed that the pool house was completely empty. She walked in and, just as she opened the door to the massage room, worried that the air conditioning unit was on the fritz, she once again heard grunts.

  “Jesus!” she cried out upon seeing Mr. Young’s naked ass up in the air as he pumped into his wife, who was bent over the massage table. Her one-piece swimsuit lay on the floor next to his own swim trunks.

  Turning quickly away, she bumped solidly into the doorjamb with her chin. She rushed out the door and slammed it shut behind her.

  Her mind now completely filled with a new image, she marched to the pool bar and decided she needed some help to get the multiple visions of the Youngs having sex out of her head.

  Liam was his normal flirty self, charming her until he convinced her to allow him to walk her back to the main building.

  The two shots of tequila she’d had hit her halfway back to the building.

  “I’m tired of seeing old men’s asses,” she blurted.

  “O . . . kay,” he said.

  She leaned in to him. “Why is it that old people have more sex than I do?”

  He chuckled. “The Youngs?”

  “Does everyone know about them? I swear, if I see his ass one more time . . .” She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “Not that it’s terrible. I mean, for a man of what . . . sixty? Maybe it’s all the pounding he does?” Liam stopped walking and laughed until he bent over, holding his sides. “What?” She frowned at him. “I mean, men do use more muscles during sex than most women, right?”

  He shook his head and gathered her close. “You are a princess.” He kissed the top of her head just before they walked in the front doors.

  “Is she okay?” Hannah rushed toward them.

  “She’s had a few shots,” he said. “I think it’s best if she sits dinner out tonight.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah took Elle’s arm and started walking her toward the stairs. Elle turned to see Liam watching them. She waved at him, and he smiled and winked at her.

  “It’s the Youngs,” she whispered to Hannah. “His ass. Always that ass.”

  Hannah chuckled as they made their way up the stairs. “I’ll take over for you tonight. Rest.” She let her into the apartment. “You’ve earned it, sweetie.”

  “I’m afraid if I close my eyes, all I’m going
to see is . . .”

  “Don’t think about it.” Hannah groaned. “Now that’s all I can see.”

  “Liam kissed me.” She sighed as Hannah pushed her back on the sofa and started removing her shoes for her.

  “When? Just now?” Hannah asked, stopping her movement.

  “Right here.” She pointed to the top of her head, and Hannah’s shoulders relaxed. “I should have had dinner. Shut down for a while.”

  She tucked a blanket over her. Hannah leaned in and kissed the same spot.

  “Okay.” She smiled up at her friend. “He kisses better than you.”

  Hannah laughed. “Good thing. Night.”

  Elle rolled over, pulling the blanket with her, and the moment she closed her eyes, she was fast asleep.

  Over the next two days, she stumbled across the Youngs two more times.

  It was beginning to cause her mental turmoil. Every time she found herself outside a closed door, she knocked loudly. Even if it was her own locked office door.

  Since she’d given Scarlett a few days off, she made a point to text her and talk to her as often as she could. Scar was spending those days in the house in Pelican Point. When Elle had time the following evening, she stopped by to make sure she was doing okay.

  Scar was dealing with their father’s death differently from how Zoey was. It was almost as if she was in denial about the entire thing. Then again, Scar had had a different relationship with her father than Zoey had, since she’d been a lot younger when their parents had divorced.

  Her mother, Kimberly, had been there, cooking dinner for Scar. She could only stay for half an hour, since she’d had to get ready for dinner herself. The conversation had been light, but Elle could tell that Scar was struggling with staying positive around Kimberly.

  When she made it back to camp, she had just enough time to change and make it down to the dining hall.

  She still wondered about the story behind the brothers being there. Liam hadn’t opened up to her. The more she’d thought about it, though, the more it had started to make sense. After all, she knew all about how the media could twist things around.

  If it had gotten out that the Costa men were working for a living, she was sure that there would have been some sort of scandal. After all, the family was one of the wealthiest in the Panhandle.

  She knew that people who read articles about the wealthy could easily idolize people in high society. Even her grandfather had been treated as if he was famous and rich just because he’d started and run the summer camp here in town.

  At one point, the council had come to him asking for money to build new signs for the town. They had figured that since he ran a large business, he would have plenty of cash to spare.

  Of course, she knew that the Costas probably did have money to spare lying around, but that didn’t mean they were willing to throw it around.

  Was this a hideout from the media too?

  She stepped out into the night and made her way toward the pool area, where a band was playing that evening.

  She was happily surprised at the crowd of guests who had shown up there instead of at the dining hall.

  She stepped up to the bar and waved at Liam.

  “Evening.” He smiled at her as he filled a beer pitcher. “Can I get you something”—he smiled at her—“other than tequila?”

  She chuckled. “I think I’ll stick to a Coke tonight.” He nodded and disappeared down the bar.

  When he returned, he bore a Coke and a basket of chips and salsa for her.

  “I bet you didn’t eat dinner,” he said as he set them in front of her. “I put in an order for a grilled cheese sandwich too.”

  “Thanks.” She sat down at the bar and started in on the chips. He was right: she’d skipped lunch and dinner that day. She’d been too busy running around checking on everyone else.

  “It’s busy tonight.” She glanced around. “Looks like everyone’s enjoying the band.”

  “Yeah.” He wiped the counter off. “You may have to have them back, and often.”

  “I’ll make a note of it.” She pulled out her phone to do so, and he laughed at her before moving off to take more orders.

  She watched as the music turned slow, and couples filled the dance floor.

  As she sipped her soda and nibbled on the chips, she dreamed of a day when she would find someone to spend the rest of her life with.

  She’d thought she’d found what she’d been wanting with Jeff. He’d filled all the requirements she’d come up with when she’d been thirteen.

  Yet as an adult, Liam fit all her new requirements. Which, of course, scared her. She watched him move around the bar, interacting with the guests as if he’d been born to it. She’d talked over the weird Costa subterfuge briefly with the others, and they all had speculated, but so far, no one had any solid answers.

  She looked over at him and figured that, after things died down for the night, she would corner him to find out more.

  From what she could tell, he’d been telling her the truth about everything else. They had lived in the house across the way, and he and his brothers did live in Destin. What she couldn’t figure out was why he’d kept up the lie.

  “You’re deep in thought,” Liam said. It was then that she realized he was standing directly in front of her. She wondered how long he’d been there.

  “Sorry,” she said as he waved her grilled cheese in front of her.

  Chef Isaac didn’t do normal grilled cheese sandwiches. The bread was perfectly crispy, the cheese oozy, and the bacon crisp. And yet somehow the tomatoes, onions, and basil inside remained fresh enough to make her mouth water.

  “I ordered us something.” He held up another plate with a second sandwich. “How about we take these to a table? I’m due a break.” He leaned in. “Right, boss?”

  She smiled. “Sounds good.”

  “Great.” He nodded. “Grab those chips.”

  She took her drink and the chips and salsa and followed him to a small table close to the pool deck, away from the loud, crowded dance floor.

  “So,” he began after they were settled. “What sort of deep thoughts were you having?”

  “Why did you lie to us about your last name?” she asked after her first bite into the sandwich.

  “It was my brother Owen’s idea.” He shrugged and bit into his own sandwich. “My god,” he said. “Seriously? Who knows how to cook a grilled cheese this well?”

  She chuckled, took another bite, and silently agreed with him. “You’re stalling.” She wanted more information from him. Needed it really badly. Why had he continued to lie to her?

  “Like I said, it was Owen’s idea.”

  “Why?” She set her sandwich down. “Why use a different name?”

  “He thought . . . it would be best in order to not cause trouble.” He closed his eyes, as if he was trying to come up with the words.

  “Because you lived nearby before?” she asked.

  He frowned. “That was part of it.”

  “What’s the other part?” she asked.

  “My family is sort of . . . known around places.”

  “Yeah, we now all know that,” she said. “Why hide it from us?”

  He shrugged and took another bite. “My father owns businesses. He has connections, and, well, we didn’t want any favors.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t explain it. Not really.”

  “We wanted to hide. To be unknown was better than walking into this, flying our name as a large red flag.”

  The fact that she hadn’t wanted to be associated with her father had pushed Joe to help her change her name from Bronson to Saunders all those years ago.

  People all had different reasons for changing their names.

  “Okay,” she said after a minute. “Are there any more secrets you’re keeping from me?”

  He was silent for a while. “Our father’s missing.”

  “He is?” She straightened; she already knew this from Zoey, but this w
as the first he was bringing it up. “For how long?”

  “A few months,” he said as he finished off his sandwich.

  “You must be worried. Are the police—”

  “No,” he broke in, reaching over and taking her hand. “We have people looking for him, but it’s not the first time he’s taken a trip without letting us know all the details.”

  “Has Ryan bugged you since yesterday?” she asked.

  “No.” He smiled. “But I hear she ran into Owen a few times.”

  “Why does she have it in for you?”

  He flexed his arm. “It has to be my muscles.” She laughed. “I have to get back,” he said after looking over her shoulder. “Britt looks like she needs a smoke break.”

  “Thanks for the sandwich.” She leaned back as he stood up.

  “Will you be around in an hour?”

  She thought of the millions of things she could be doing. They had all put in extra hours since they’d decided to open River Camp back up. As if they had been holding their breaths to see if the camp would sink or swim, and choosing to do so instead of breathing and living. Still, knowing that the camp was off to a great start should have reassured her some.

  After all, they were almost booked solid for the rest of the summer. Which should have allowed her at least a little time to relax. Especially with someone she enjoyed being around like Liam.

  “Yes,” she answered before she could talk herself out of it.

  His smile broadened as he walked back to the bar.

  She tried to avoid watching him walk away, but seeing him in the tight jeans was too much of a temptation.

  When he glanced back and caught her watching him, he wiggled his eyebrows at her and smirked.

  Damn, she thought and spun back around. She took another sip of her soda and figured she could use a dip in the pool to cool off.

  She left her plate and drink and settled at the side of the pool, far from the view of the bar, and pulled off her shorts and camp shirt.

  She slid into the water and relaxed back, letting the water cool her off.

  “Long day?”

  Lara Patterson, a guest who had been doing laps, approached her.

  “Yes,” she said with a smile. “How are you tonight, Mrs. Patterson?”