by Rebecca York
Bile bubbled up Eliana’s throat. “Make me an offer.”
“Forty-six thousand.”
Eliana swallowed. If her math was correct, that was the amount Scott had run off with. “That’s not even half of what I paid for this place.” She’d blown almost her entire savings so that she wouldn’t have to worry about another payment and focus only on operating expenses. She had a business loan with a line of credit, but she needed to be careful about how she used it.
“You won’t get a better offer, and trust me when I say this place will fail, again, if not done properly, and from what I was told, you were pretty much going to do the same old same old. Sure, people will come out for the first month, but they will be bored after that and go looking for something with substance.”
Wow. What a condescending bitch. Eliana had grown accustomed to her ex-husband and his belittling words during their marriage. But when she walked away, she promised herself she wouldn’t allow another person to treat her that way ever again. She stiffened her spine and took in a slow, deep breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Levi maneuver his boat into the dock. “Tell your client thanks, but no thanks.” Eliana’s mom had always told her that it wasn’t asking for help that made a person weak; it was allowing pride to stand in the way of accepting it.
Time to push her pride to the side and ask for help.
But on her terms.
***
Levi backed the Morning Wood into his spot at the docks. His chest tightened as he stared at Stephanie walking around what should be the dance floor at Castaways while Eliana stood with her arms folded across her middle. He shouldn’t be surprised that Eliana would entertain the idea of selling the bar, but if she did, he’d have to find a new place to dock his boat, that was for damn sure.
He shut off the engines and focused on finishing up the charter. His favorite pelicans swooped down, landing on the posts by his vessel, waiting for him to slice open the latest catch so they could battle the fish below for the tasty treats. “I can either filet these and put them on ice, or I can grill them up, and you can eat them here.” He pulled the four groupers that his two customers had caught out of the cooler.
“Do you mind just fileting them for us? My wife wants to cook them for dinner.”
“Not a problem.” He set up his cutting table while Murphy, the largest of the pelicans, eyed him as if Murphy were a hawk and the fish in Levi’s hand was his prey.
Levi went about making sure he got as much meat as possible, leaving out all the bones. He prided himself on the total experience, and since he’d been running charters, the majority of his customers recommended him to their friends, and often some returned for a second or even a third time. What started as a way to hide, because he could no longer do the one thing that mattered, became the thing that soothed his soul. He still didn’t want to engage with the world and preferred to live out his days doing one fishing excursion after the other. Having few responsibilities meant he could come and go as he pleased, and no one could rip his heart out and leave it on the floor to be stepped on over and over again.
He laid the meaty filets on the ice he’d put in baggies and then wrapped them in paper and handed them to his customer. “Thanks again. I appreciate your business.”
One of the men handed him an envelope. “Next season when we’re down, we’ll be sure to use you again.”
“Take care.” Levi cleaned up his workstation, tossing all the guts into the water. Birds and fish alike went crazy. Every few minutes, he’d glance over his shoulder to see what Eliana and Stephanie were up to. Mostly, he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to talk with Eliana, but he didn’t want to interrupt.
That would be rude.
And he’d already proven he was an ass; he didn’t need to do it again.
He snagged the hose and started watering down the back deck.
“Hey there,” a sweet yet sultry voice tickled his skin.
“I was hoping you’d stick around so I could apologize, but I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting.” He twisted the nozzle, shutting it off, and set the hose on the metal rack.
“I learned a lot from Stephanie.” She stood at the edge of the pier with two glasses in her hand. She held one out. “If you don’t like mimosas. I’ll drink it.”
He curled his fingers around the glass, letting them touch his soft skin. “It’s orange juice. What’s not to like.” He held her forearm with his other hand. “Come aboard and let’s chat.”
She sat on the bench in front of the center console while he positioned himself where he could watch how the sunrays bounced off her blue eyes. She’d pulled her long raven hair into a side braid. It cascaded over her bare shoulder. He enjoyed her fresh-looking skin. If she wore makeup other than maybe a little mascara, he’d be surprised.
“I want to apologize for being a controlling asshole the other day.”
“Apology accepted,” she said with a genuine smile. She brought her drink to her full, pink lips. They hugged the rims like tires gripping the road.
“When I was in the military, I tended to just do whatever needed to be done. That trait was rewarded there, but I get how that can be annoying and condescending in civilian life.”
“I understand you were just trying to be nice to the new girl.”
“So, tell me, what exactly did you learn from Stephanie?” he asked.
“Don’t you want to ask me if I’m going to sell to her client or not?”
He arched a brow. “I like a woman who’s direct. And yes, I want to know the answer to that too, but I am curious as to what lessons Stephanie might have schooled you on.”
“You don’t like her, do you?” Eliana kicked off her flip-flops and tucked her feet under her butt.
“Well, I don’t like too many people, so don’t let my judgment of her cloud yours.” Damn. He enjoyed Eliana way more than he should. And it was easy, which he didn’t like. Usually, conversations with strangers were strained. He didn’t shoot the breeze, nor did he like hanging out talking about nothing. The best conversations he had were with Cloe, and she was only four. What the hell did that say about him?
“She’s not very self-aware, that’s for sure,” Eliana said. “Did you know part of the plan was to make Castaways and all the property behind it a small luxury hotel?”
He almost dropped his glass. “No. That is brand-new information. I thought it was supposed to be a private condo association.”
“It gets better. Her client wants to move the Riverwalk so it circles behind the hotel, not in front of it, forcing people through gift shops.”
“I thought her client wanted to open some overpriced restaurant.”
“Oh. He does. But it would be more like a tiki bar pool and pub overlooking the water, but he wants to ensure privacy, which is another reason they want to change the path.”
“That’s not going to fly. The town spent years on this Riverwalk, and it’s really done a lot for the community and businesses.”
“Excepts Castaways,” she said, pointing at the dilapidated establishment. “In your opinion, why has that business always failed?”
“It hasn’t. The place was thriving. Hottest spot in town until the old man had one too many gambling debts, and he defaulted on loan after loan. He stopped paying his employees. He was stiffing the bands. He had to sell.”
“Why was I the only one who bid on the place?”
“You weren’t. He refused to sell to five other people because he worried what they would do to the place, and then he shut down. It’s been sitting here like this for a year. You were the first one who wanted to keep it as a bar with great entertainment.”
“What about before him? How successful was it?”
Levi shrugged. “I’ve only been here two years. But I’ve been told for twenty years, Castaways has been the shining star under the Jupiter Lighthouse.”
She downed the last gulp of her mimosa. “Are you serious about working for your rent?”
He shifted in his seat, sitting up a little taller. “I am.”
“What about your friends? I have limited funds, and I have to put what little I have left of my business loan into the business, not paying people I can’t afford. And then there is the issue of staff…” She let out a long breath. “This is an impossible task since that asshole took off with all my money.”
“It’s not impossible.” He stood, turned, and took off his shirt, showing off the horrific scars that lined his back. He had seven all together. One long surgical one that snaked down his spine from his neck to his ass. The other six were where pieces of shrapnel had to be ripped from his body after he’d nearly been blown to bits.
“Oh, my…” She gasped. “What happened?”
He wadded up his shirt and faced her. This wasn’t a story he told people. Not because it was too painful for him, but because he hated the way everyone looked at him with pity in their eyes. No one should feel sorry for him. They should feel bad for all the people who died that day. And those who lost the ones they loved the most.
“What happened doesn’t matter. Being in the military and being a Navy SEAL can be a dangerous job. I knew that going in. I was injured during an operation that went sideways. I wasn’t supposed to live. As a matter of fact, my buddies read me my last rights on the field because I barely had a pulse. I lost a lot of blood, and I had objects sticking out of my body, which meant they were poking around my insides and my organs. When I woke up, I learned I had lost one kidney, and the doctors told me I’d never walk again. But there was no way in hell I was going to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair. A couple surgeries later, I’m standing here with only a limp, some pain, and ugly-ass scars. If I can do the impossible, so can you.”
Holding his gaze, she set her glass down by the steering wheel and made her way to where he stood. She rested her hands on his shoulders and raised up on tiptoes, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her to his chest. She hadn’t shown him pity. Or looked at him as if he were some magical hero to be worshiped. Her kiss hadn’t been anything other than simple understanding.
Empathy between two human beings.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“Reminding me that I’m worth fighting for.”
He pressed his lips against her temple and closed his eyes, inhaling her fresh watermelon scent. She was everything a woman should be. Strong. Confident. Intelligent.
Of course, her sexy body and beautiful face just rounded out the package.
“I’m glad you’re going to stick around and make a go of it. I know you can pull this off.”
She took a step back, tucking a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear. “I need to do this my way though, okay?”
“Of course.”
“I mean it. I need to call all the shots and make all the decisions. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t—”
He pressed his finger against her lips.
“Don’t insult me by finishing that sentence. What I did on Thanksgiving I would have done for a man in the same situation, especially if he came off as kind and sincere as you did. Don’t ever take me being a gentleman or a good Samaritan as me believing you aren’t my equal, because I’ve served with some smart women who were more capable than some men I know.”
She narrowed her eyes into tiny, angry slits.
He swallowed and dropped his hands to his sides.
“Don’t ever shush me again.”
“Don’t insult me and I won’t have to.” Shit. He shouldn’t have said that, but seriously, someone must have done a number on this chick. “I won’t treat you any differently than I would one of my buddies.”
“Would you press your finger up against their lips?”
He opened his mouth but quickly slammed it shut. She had a valid point. He cleared his throat. “No. I wouldn’t have used the particular gesture. I would have interrupted him and told him to shut the fuck up. I do try to watch my language around a lady.”
The corners of her mouth curved into a slight smile. “I made a list of what I have done, what I need done, and all the money I have in this world. Do you have a charter this afternoon? Or can we get started?”
“No afternoon charters for the rest of this week. I’m all yours.”
“You might regret that. I’m a slave driver.”
“Promises, promises,” he mused.
Chapter Five
Eliana stood at the edge of the dock, fighting back the tears. It had only been a week, but Levi and his friends had managed to clear out all the bad landscaping, leaving just a few palm trees between Castaways and the Riverwalk. That had cost her nothing but a cooler full of beer and some fresh grilled fish, which Levi had graciously provided.
They had also brought in Bermuda sand and covered the cement floor with it, giving the establishment a real beachy feel. The company just happened to be owned by someone Levi knew, or one of his friends, and they gave her a great deal, along with a low interest payment plan for future sand if needed.
Levi jogged down the dock, his limp more pronounced. The last few days, she noticed it had gotten worse. She also noticed he was popping a lot of Advil and stretching out his back more often. He didn’t have any real skin in the game, yet he was working long hours, enduring pain to help a perfect stranger. She resented that in the back of her mind, she wondered when the other shoe would fall. Men always showed their true colors; it was just a matter of how long it would take for Levi to reveal his agenda.
With Gino, it took a couple of years for her to see him for who he really was, and part of that was on her because she didn’t want to believe the man she loved could be a narcissistic bastard. By the time she had been honest with herself, she’d been drowning in self-doubt.
“It’s looking really good.” Levi stood next her, looping his arm over her shoulders. “Were you able to order the tables, chairs, and stools?”
She blinked. “I haven’t pulled the trigger yet.”
“Why not? If you want them in time for the grand opening, you’ve got to do it by tomorrow or shipping is going to cost an arm and a leg, if you can even get them in on time.”
Lying had never been something she did well, and it wasn’t that she felt the need to keep the truth from Levi, but her pride wanted her to keep her problems hidden from the world. She chewed on her thumbnail, staring at the center bar. A couple of Levi’s buddies milled about, cleaning up from a long afternoon of hard labor. She’d done a bang-up job of failing at life. She couldn’t fail at this. But she desperately wanted to do it on her terms.
And she needed to prove to herself that she could make it on her own.
Being alone isn’t being brave or strong. Asking for help when you really need it is. Her mother’s words floated through her mind like a warm hug.
“You’re worried about spending the money.”
Before she’d married Gino, her mother had been her sounding board for most of her major decisions. Eliana fingered her pendant. Gino had destroyed so many of her relationships, and he never allowed her to make her own decisions. He controlled every aspect of her life, and even now, thanks to her ex, she doubted her ability to make a sound decision.
According to her mother, nothing happened in a vacuum, and right now, the only person she had in her corner was Levi, but would he be as good of a sounding board as her mother? Or would he just make her feel like shit like Gino had. The only way to find out was to take that leap of faith.
She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If I order the ones I really want, it will drain my business loan, and I won’t be able to fix the stage or the bars, much less buy anything for the opening.”
“That’s a little bit of a problem.”
“It gets worse.” She ducked out from under his arm and leaned against a post. The evening sun moved behind the horizon, casting an orange an
d purple glow across the sky. The sounds of the water lapping against the shore calmed her nerves. She’d been up all night crunching the numbers, but no matter how many times she’d done it, she still came up short. “The town of Jupiter has fined me five grand for the mess that the previous owner left behind, and I got nailed for some back tax fine that he never paid that was attached to the deed for the tune of eight grand. There is no way I will be able to pay for all of this and have a grand opening in a couple of weeks. Best case scenario I can come up with is if I pay off the fines first and then get a job and purchase the rest as I can.”
“If you do that, when do you think you could open?” Levi asked.
“Depends on how long it takes me to get a decent paying job, but being conservative with my numbers, I’m guessing Easter, maybe before if I’m lucky.”
“It’s going to be hard to handle all the details while holding down a full-time job.”
“I know. I thought I’d get a waitressing or bartending gig. That way I can spend my days working on things for Castaways.”
“It should be easy to get a job doing that this time of year, but do you really want to do that? You’d be burning the candle at both ends.”
She tossed her hands wide. “Of course I don’t want to do things that way. But what choice do I have?”
“There are always choices.” He inched closer, taking her hand into his. He ran his thumb across her skin like a lover or best friend would do. Her pulse slowed to a steady, even beat, but her throat went dry. “I could have listened to everyone who said I’d never walk again and lay in that hospital bed doing absolutely nothing. But I chose to fight, even when the odds were stacked against me.”
“I already called the bank and applied for a larger line of credit. They turned me down. I have no family to borrow money from. I’d rather die before groveling at the feet of my ex-husband for anything, so I’m honestly at a loss for how to keep up the good fight. But don’t think for one second that I’m giving up, because I’m not.”
“Good, but I think I might have a solution for you.”